“Honestly, I don’t think you’re ever going to get there.”
My blood went cold. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Open your eyes, man. She’s never going to be a sub. She’s vanilla, and we both know it. Do you really want to hide who you are? Why do we run this place? It’s so we can be ourselves with people just like us. With this chick, you’re going to have to be someone you aren’t. Is that what you really want?”
It didn’t take me long to find my answer. “No.”
“Then cut her loose, and go back to Isabella. She’ll take you back in a heartbeat.”
That was where I met my obstacle. “But I don’t want to go back to Isabella. I want Rome.” I couldn’t deny it because the feeling was deep in my gut. Despite her plainness, I craved her. I wanted to drag her into the dark with me, becoming swallowed in the shadows until we were one with the darkness. I didn’t want to do it with anyone else—only Rome.
“Well, you can’t have vanilla girl. You tried and failed.”
“I didn’t fail. We just…hit a rough patch.”
“After what happened, she’s not going to want anything to do with you, man.” He shook his head, his hard jaw stern just like mine. He had the same predatory look I had—the same look our father had. “She’s going to think you’re a freak. A monster.”
Unfortunately, he was probably right about that.
14
Rome
“Yo, what’s up?” Christopher walked inside my apartment and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “What’s the big emergency?” He fell on the moth-eaten couch and put his feet on the coffee table. He turned his ear toward the door like he was listening for something. “It’s awfully quiet around here. Did someone move out?”
“The guy across the hall did.”
“The one that plays music all night long?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. “Good riddance.”
I sat beside him with a glass of wine and the full bottle in hand. “I don’t know what to do about Calloway. It might not work out.”
Christopher almost spit out his beer as he swallowed. “Whoa, hold on.” He wiped his mouth on his collared shirt and set the beer on the coffee table. “What did you say?”
“We got into a fight last night, and weird stuff happened…”
With both eyebrows arched, he stared me down. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that.”
Christopher and I weren’t related by blood, but it was still weird to talk about my love life with him. It was something neither one of us ever mentioned. “We were in bed and…” I felt awkward just saying that much. “And I wanted to sleep over, but he wanted me to leave.”
His eyes narrowed as his gaze darkened. “He slept with you then kicked you out? Now that’s a dick move.”
“We didn’t sleep together. We just…yeah.” God, this was weird.
“Oh…gotcha.” Christopher would normally make a joke or two, but he kept his maturity unnaturally high. “Did he say why?”
“No. And then I got kinda mad and said some things I didn’t mean…that he was going to go out and hook up with someone. Then he yelled at me and told me to mind my own business. So I slapped him.” I cringed at that last part.
“Shit. That sounds like a real fight.”
“It got out of hand.” To say the least.
“Why are you thinking about stepping away? Couples fight all the time.”
“But don’t you think it’s weird he won’t let me sleep over? It’s the second time he’s done that.”
Christopher grabbed his beer from the table and took a drink. “Honestly, I’m on his side for this one.”
“What?” Seriously?
“You haven’t been seeing each other long, and you haven’t slept together. If the guy doesn’t want you to sleep over, I think he’s entitled to that. Frankly, if a woman said that to a man, no one would blink an eye over it. He would have to respect that and back off. This is a double standard.”
My jaw dropped. “It’s so not a double standard.”
“Sorry, sis. It is.”
“But you don’t think it’s strange he won’t tell me why?”
He shrugged. “Have you told him everything about you?”
“Most of it.”
“I don’t know… I think everyone is entitled to a little privacy. If you guys had been dating six months, I would say otherwise. But right now, I think he’s right. And I think you need to apologize to him for slapping him.”