"Don't make me pull those covers off." He warns refusing to leave. "Get out of bed nerd."
"Who are you calling–"
He whips the covers clear off of me, and I am immediately exposed and freezing. Juliette still has the central air running, and I'm only wearing a very thin neon yellow tank top and a pair of pink and white polka dot panties. My stretched out, worn out pair of panties. The ones you wear when you're almost completely out of clean panties. Crap. I have no doubt Roman is used to slick, worldly women who only wear lace thongs and push up bras and look like Victoria Secret models, the way I've seen women slobber over him. I'm sure I'm giving him a country mouse eyeful.
"Shit." I hear him mutter under his breath. "Where are your pajamas Duchess?"
"This is what I sleep in genius. Get out!" All I can do is fuss at him to save face. I'm more angry at myself than anything he's said or done. Hell, I'm angry that I haven't washed clothes yet. I do own better looking underwear than this.
He runs his hand back and forth over the top of his head and exhales roughly.
"We're going out. Be ready in fifteen minutes. I'm not playing."
"I don't have time to play with you." I say back.
"Good. We're in agreement then."
"That's not what I–"
He closes the door sharply behind him, which makes the whole house rattle a little, and I throw my hands in the air in utter frustration.
"ASSHOLE!"
Not too long after, I hear a soft knock at the door and imagine he's about to tell me what he thinks about me calling him names.
"Oh so you're knocking now?!"
"Elizabeth? It's me sweetie."
Oh God. It's Juliette. I pull the covers up to my chin so that she doesn't know that Roman just saw me practically nude, as well as to save her from my rancid breath. Where the heck is my pack of gum?
"Oops Auntie."
She enters the room gingerly like she's frightened that I'm going to throw a bottle at her head.
"Is it safe?"
"Ha ha. I thought you were Roman again."
"He's just being a good cousin honey. I know that I said that you wouldn't see him much around here, but he's just trying to get you out of the house for a while."
"So you put him up to this?"
"His father did." She holds her hands up like she's under arrest. "It wasn't me. I know how dedicated you are to your work."
Even though he's eerily quiet, Joseph has been nothing but super sweet to me since I've been here, and I can tell the way he is with Juliette, that he is possessive and protective by nature. Of course he would want someone to look out for me. He probably feels responsible for me since I'm currently living under his roof, but I just can't. Not with Roman.
"It's not like I don't know the city Aunt Juliette. I've lived here for years. I went to Penn. I don't need a babysitter."
"Is this about Roman burying you alive when you were six, because that was our fault sweetie. We should've been keeping a better eye on things. He was just doing what boys that age do. Roman was always a handful."
"Auntie–"
"You're not going to stop saying aunt are you?"
"Not to your face." I smile. "It just seems inappropriate to call you by your first name."
"My brother has always had a stick up his ass with formalities and stuff. I get it though. We were raised that way by your grandparents. It's just that I remember us both promising each other that our children would call each other by our first names. We thought the whole title thing was stupid when we were kids. We had to call anybody over the age of twenty-five aunt this or uncle that. Even our cousins. It was ridiculous."
"It's a shame that you and Dad can't figure out how to fix this thing between the two of you. I'm pretty sure he misses you."
"What makes you think that?" She asks wistfully.
"Just a feeling."
"Well maybe one day we'll clear the air. Having you here is actually a big step in the right direction."
"How does helping your homeless niece repair things between the two of you?" I chuckle.
"I don't know if ten years ago he would have ever allowed you in this house. He must be mellowing with age or maybe because you're an adult now. Either way, it's progress."
I smile but wonder to myself what on earth could have happened to make my dad avoid his only sister for most of his adult life.
"Will you tell me what happened?"
She exhales tiredly.
"Your father and Joseph have some issues."
"What issues?"
"They don't like each other. Your father didn't want me to marry him. He made me choose. I chose Joseph."
My father is many things, but making his sister choose between him and the man she loves sounds extreme even for him.