Page 16 of Hale Yeah, It’s You

“What’s just you, Frankie?” Hazel eyes, today pulling a deep hunter green, stare into my own curiously.

“The background checks, the workers, it’s only me.

Mom and Dad have to run the store since I’ll be here, and Mike only works part time, so we need him to cover the weekend shifts.

I’m happy to donate as much as I can to make this a good production for the kids.

” I smooth my hands over my skirt again, biting my lip to keep from coming out of my skin.

It’s taking everything I have not to blurt out more, to beg him for answers I so desperately need from him.

“If it’s only you, I can print the pass today and you can start tomorrow. But, please clear it with Mrs. Betty so she doesn’t think I’m stepping on her toes. And if you need any help, I’m sure the shop teacher, Mr. Daniels, and I can fill in the gaps.”

I let out a breath, thankful he’s agreeing so easily. “That would be great, I look forward to it. I’ll talk with Mrs. Betty and if she agrees, I’ll try to stay out of your hair.”

Roman stands, his chair bumping lightly against the bookcase behind him. He walks around his desk, stopping right in front of me. I stare at the floor, unsure what he plans to say or do, afraid he’s about to take it all back and toss me out of here.

His fingers brush under my chin before he tips my head back to meet his gaze. “Frankie.” He says my name like it hurts as it leaves his lips. “I’m sorry about the other night, I was a prick. I want us to be able to talk. It wasn’t fair for me to be upset that you’ve moved on.”

My skin is hot under his touch, my lips tremble and I’m not sure I can get the words out, but they need to be said. No matter what comes of the truth, I need to say it out loud. “That’s the thing, Roman,” I lock my eyes on him. “I haven’t moved on. Not in the way that you mean it.”

It happens so fast I almost don’t register the movement.

Roman lifts me up out of the chair, his strong hands are gentle but firm.

I am putty in his hands, the warmth in his fingertips scalds my skin even through my blouse.

He sits down into the chair he’s pulled me from, repositioning me onto his lap, my legs off to the side.

My chest is pressed to his, one of his hands holding the back of my neck and the other dangerously close to the slit in my skirt.

I’m trying to catch my breath, but his lips find mine with an urgency that takes the very breath from my lungs.

They’re soft, two silky pillows pressed against my own.

I wrap my arms around his neck, afraid he’ll pull back at any moment, but he doesn’t.

His lips part, and his tongue slides gently against my lips, a quiet moan escaping from me as I taste him.

These are not the lips and hands of a nervous teenage boy. This man knows what he’s doing, and what he’s doing is wrecking me in all the best ways. It’s different than I remember, but somehow in this moment, it’s like coming home.

He tastes exactly how I remember. Like smooth chocolate and desire.

I let my fingers knot in his hair as he deepens the kiss.

A hunger I haven’t felt in years coils tightly in my belly.

I press my body into him as much as I can.

His fingers singe my bare skin as he rubs circles on my upper thigh, and my body reacts to his touch.

I gently bite his lower lip and he groans from the contact, the hand on my neck sliding up to tangle in my hair.

It’s pure ecstasy and it’s only a kiss; I don’t dare imagine what anything more could do to me .

We take from each other, kissing and groping and devouring as if no time has passed at all.

His lips slide down my jaw, kissing my throat and my collarbones before coming back to my mouth.

I can feel the length of him where I’m pressed into his lap.

I loosen my hold on his hair, slowing the kiss down, trying to savor the moment.

His hand cradles the back of my head as he pulls his mouth from mine.

I stare at his swollen lips, before risking a glance into his eyes, afraid I’ll see regret in them.

“God, Frankie,” he drops his forehead to mine. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. My breathing refuses to slow down. The explosive chemistry I’d always felt between us is still there. I want to pull him back to me and never stop kissing him.

“Meet me after school? We can try and have that talk again.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and then stands, taking me with him.

“Where are you staying?” I ask, my voice shaking with need and an ever growing fear. I think I might need him, and that scares me, but it also makes me feel alive. I’m unsteady on my feet, but Roman doesn’t let go of me, his hands holding my upper arms.

“Do you remember the old Miller house? I bought it. I don’t have much furniture yet, but I can make us dinner and we can talk.”

Of course I remember the Miller house. We had our first kiss on the back porch of that old house. I wonder if he remembers.

“I remember it.”

My chest rises and falls as I try to catch my breath. I want this, I want him to talk to me, to hash out all the things that we’ve left too long. But part of me is terrified by the intensity of my reaction to this man. The one man I vowed to never give the power of breaking my heart again.

“There’s so much I want to say.” My voice trembles.

I smooth a hand over my skirt, suddenly awkward after we’ve both lost complete control in his office.

I need to tell him the truth about Alayna.

I need him to know that I’ve promised to give Clay a chance.

I want to believe that Roman still wants me and that there’s a chance for us to find the happiness we left behind as kids…

I feel incredibly selfish and crazy, because my wants and needs are conflicting and confusing. I don’t even know where to start.

The phone on Roman’s desk begins to ring, and he sighs, walking around the desk to pick it up. “Dr. Clarke,” he gives me an apologetic look. “Yes, I’ll be right down. Give me five minutes.”

Roman runs a hand through his sexily disheveled hair. “I hate to run out of here after that, but I have a meeting with a student to get to. I’ll let Kate know you need a badge.”

I shake my head, my cheeks burning. “Don’t apologize, this is your workplace. Go, I’ll be fine.”

“Please, Frankie, will you have dinner with me?”

The tenderness in his voice breaks through any lingering resolve. I stare at those perfect lips, the lips I want back on mine, hell, all over my whole body. I nod at him, “Yes, Roman, I’ll have dinner with you.”