Page 92 of Forever Fighting
I pinch his nipple brutally hard, making him jump and swat my hand away.
“We have two more days here before we return home.”
I sag. “Yeah. That kind of sucks, but?—”
I’m cut off when my phone rings again. Adam.
“I’m going to answer it,” he tells me.
I wince. “This won’t be pretty.”
“It was never going to be since I made you mine.” He winks at me and slides my phone across the counter to answer it, instantly putting it on speakerphone. “Hey.”
“Hey?” Adam barks indignantly. “That’s how you answerherphone? Hey?”
Roman picks up my coffee and drinks half of it down. If it burned his mouth, he doesn’t register it. “What do you want me to say?”
“That everything my fucking network is reporting is bullshit.”
He meets my eyes as he says, “It’s not. I married Braelyn in Vegas. I knew what I was doing even if she was a bit too drunk to know. I would have married her sober if she’d asked me to.”
“You motherfucker! How could you do this to me? I believed you were on my side. You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you betrayed me.”
“I did,” Roman admits. “I wish it weren’t like that. And this wasn’t me getting even with you for betraying Braelyn, which you did. I love her. That’s all there is to it.”
“I can’t believe this. It can’t be real. Braelyn was going to marry me. She doesn’t love you. There’s no fucking way.”
He grins at me. “Whether she does or doesn’t, this is the situation.”
“Nash would fucking hate you for this. You’re a traitor?—”
“Nash would fucking hate you for what you did to Braelyn,” Roman cuts him off, his jaw locked tight and his voice colder than death. “Don’t you dare call me a traitor.” He shifts his weight and glares furiously down at the phone as if he wants to reach into it, pluck Adam from the other side, and strangle the life from him. “It’s funny, all this time I was tainted by your friendship with Nash and our friendship over the last six years. I was plagued with guilt over this. But these last few weeks have really shown what an unremorseful, selfish piece of shit you are. You don’t deserve her.”
“You don’t either, and you know it. You’re the selfish one. Not me. I believed you were helping me winmygirl back.”
I roll my eyes. I kept my mouth shut, biting my tongue, but that’s my breaking point.
“That’s so lame,” I smart. “I’m not your girl. You lost the privilege of calling me that when you decided to start sticking your dick into Corporate Barbie. You knew the risk. You knew what fucking someone else could bring down on you and yet didn’t do it once or even twice. You did it again and again over weeks and then brought your side piece into our apartment and our bed. So fuck you, Adam. You have no right to try to win me back and you sure as shit have no right to comment or be angry about what you let go of. Roman and I were a long time coming. I think you already knew that, which is why you’re not shocked, just pissed. So take your sanctimonious anger, wad it up into a ball, and shove it up your ass because you can go fuck yourself with it.”
I hit end on the call and Roman stands here for a minute, giving me a look. “You just totally handled him like a boss.”
I preen at that. “That’s because I am a boss.”
His lips twitch and all that ice has melted into fire. “A sexyfucking boss. That was insanely hot. Nice job. But you know he’s not done with this.”
That gives me a moment of pause because I do know that. Our marriage and whatever pictures of us kissing on the beach coming out embarrass Adam. And if I know one thing about him, he doesn’t like to appear the fool. Especially not in front of others, let alone the world.
29
BRAELYN
We didn’t end up staying the extra two days. The resort felt tainted. Anytime we left our villa, we were paranoid, always looking over our shoulder and keeping our heads down, fearful of being photographed.
Boston won’t be better. If anything, it’ll be worse, but it somehow feels better than being here. Roman finished up everything he had to do in the restaurant yesterday and this morning, one day after our marriage made headlines, we left for the airport, but instead of flying home commercially, Roman had the Fritz jet come pick us up.
I didn’t argue it. Everything has spiraled out of control.
Adam and I used to be photographed, especially when we first started dating. We’d go to a charity dinner or out on a date and inevitably, our faces would end up somewhere online. It was annoying, but it wasn’t that big of a deal and it fizzled out quickly. Even when we got engaged, there was some press with it, but not a ton. Boston isn’t like New York or LA with that and I’m not a celebrity.
