Page 10

Chapter Ten

Eva

T he rest of the week, Roman came over after work to continue building my bookcases. I sat there and talked with him while he worked and tried not to ogle his body too obviously.

The more time I spend with him, the easier it is to put aside the attraction and just focus on getting to know him. He’s actually really funny, and he has a great sense of humor.

It’s now Friday, and instead of going out with my brother and their friends, he’s decided to keep working on it.

“You really don’t have to do this tonight,” I tell him as I follow him to my office. “It’s Friday. You should go out with Walker.”

He waves me off. “Nah, I’ve got the better sibling tonight.”

He winks at me, which sends my heart into a flutter, but I laugh it off. “I’m glad you see it that way. I’ve been trying to tell him that for years.”

“What I’m wondering is, why aren’t you going out with your friends on a Friday night? You’re young and in a new and exciting city.”

He starts to drill the shelves into their spots—the final step of this entire process before he puts the crown molding all around the perimeter.

“I’m exhausted. My boss has this strict deadline that I’m trying to meet.”

I smile, but he turns around.

“You’re not too stressed out, are you?”

“I’m kidding.” I laugh. “I mean, I’m tired, and I have been working hard, but I love it.”

“Just tell me if it’s too much. I can get a little obsessive when I want something done quickly.”

I try to bite my lip from laughing because those are true words. I haven’t known him long, but I can already see that when he has his mind set on something, he doesn’t rest until it’s done.

Even with these bookcases. It’s not like we’re on some crazy deadline and they need to be done in a week, but he has been hell-bent on getting them done as quickly as possible.

An hour later, we’re standing next to each other, admiring his work.

“Wow,” I say on an exhale. “They look amazing. I love them!”

I can feel his eyes on me as I gawk at my new office.

“I’m glad you like them.”

When he doesn’t move, I look up at him, and his eyes are darker, more serious than they were a moment ago. A charge sparks in the silence, subtle but undeniable, like the very air around us has turned, conscious of the shift.

My body is suddenly very aware of how close we are standing. If I lean an inch closer, we’d be touching. The temperature seems to rise with just the thought of my skin coming in contact with his.

The pull between us is irrefutable.

He looks away, back at the bookcases, and coughs. “So, uh, I’ll have someone drop off some paint swatches. You can pick what color you want them to be.”

A flicker of disappointment burns in my chest at the loss of connection.

I nod my head in response. “That sounds great. Thanks again for doing this. I still can’t believe you were able to do this by yourself in a week.”

He chuckles lightly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

I smile. “Sorry. I just didn’t think someone whose suits were worth more than my entire savings account could be good with their hands.”

The moment I say it; I regret the words. His face changes instantly as he looks me up and down slowly. I don’t understand how his eyes on me can garner such a reaction.

I shift uncomfortably in my spot, looking for a way to change the topic—again.

“What are you doing the rest of the evening?” I ask quickly.

He seems caught off guard by the question. “Nothing. I was just going to shower and watch some TV.”

“You’re welcome to hang out here. I was planning on doing the same thing.”

He shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t think much of my invitation, though I’m not sure where it came from. “You got more beer?”

I smile. “I do. Come on. I’ll get some snacks out too. You can’t do a Friday night hangout without food.”

“I didn’t realize that was a requirement.”

I gasp as we enter my kitchen. “How could you not know the rules? That’s a universal girl rule.”

“Believe it or not, Eva, I’m not in the habit of hanging out with girls on the weekends.”

My eyebrow rises in doubt. “Why do I feel like that’s a bunch of bullshit? You hang out with my brother. I know what you guys get into on the weekends.”

I open the fridge and pull out two beers. He grabs my magnetic bottle opener from my fridge and pops open the top for both of us.

“Cheers,” he says as he knocks our drinks together. “To hanging out with my first girl friend. Emphasis on the space between girl and friend .”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not surprised that I’m your first girl space friend.”

He leans against my island while I pull out a wooden serving board and then begin to grab items out of my fridge and pantry.

“You know it doesn’t usually work. That’s why most men aren’t friends with women.”

I keep my eyes trained on my task at hand while I think about his words. “There are a lot of people who are friends with someone of the opposite sex.”

He laughs. “Like who?”

I stop for a moment to think about it. I can’t think of anyone my age, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. “My parents are friends with many people of the opposite sex.”

His eyebrows turn down at me. “Couples friends don’t count, Eva.”

“Fine. We’re friends.”

His head falls back as a boisterous laugh echoes in my kitchen. “That is the worst example you could have possibly come up with. We are like the epitome of what not to do.”

“How so?” I stop and place my hand on my hip.

“We both admitted attraction to each other. Being friends—true friends—only works if there’s no sexual tension. We’re a tower of cards, balancing with the hope that no wind hits and knocks us down.”

“What a weird way of putting it. Fine. I can’t think of anyone at the moment.”

His triumphant look annoys me.

“Let’s drop it and go enjoy our movie and snacks.”

Our focus shifts to the counter, where my masterpiece is done.

“Holy shit. You did that while we were talking? Are we having a party?”

“Charcuterie boards are not only for parties. Plus, I love Italian food. It’s my obsession. I’m all for any excuse to have it.”

I grab the board and lead him toward the family room, then place the food down on my wooden coffee table.

“You like Italian food?” He plops down on the couch next to me, his large frame taking up more of the couch than I anticipated. Our bodies are practically touching.

“I love Italian food,” I reply as I grab a piece of prosciutto and aged Parmesan cheese.

“You’d appreciate dinner at my ma’s house. She’s straight off the boat from Italy and the best cook I’ve ever known.”

I feel my stomach rumbling, just thinking about it. “You are so lucky. Bring me leftovers next time.”

He smiles, and I notice the lines at the corners of his eyes, which show his age. “Really?”

“Of course. In fact, I request leftovers from here on out. Italians are notorious for cooking in large quantities, so I’m sure there will be enough.”

He takes a swig of his beer, and I try not to focus on watching it go down his throat, which is strangely erotic. Is it possible to have a fit neck? I think it is because his seems like the neck of a perfectly sculpted man.

“You’ve got that right. Leftovers are a staple in Ma’s home. Tupperware filled to the brim with leftovers.”

“I look forward to tasting her food,” I reply casually, then lean back on the couch and grab the remote. “What are you in the mood for? Comedy, drama?”

“I’m down for anything.”

I shuffle through the options until I find a comedy that I’ve heard really good things about.

Ninety minutes fly by in what feels like the blink of an eye. As the credits roll down the screen, I scan the coffee table. We demolished the charcuterie board and went through six beers.

The alcohol is making me feel slightly loosened up and buzzed.

I look over at Roman, who laces his fingers together and lifts his arms over his head as he stretches, then meets my eyes and smiles. My heart jumps at his lazy grin. It makes him look so young and innocent. Not the successful CEO I’m used to seeing.

I wonder how many people get to see this version of him.

“I didn’t expect it to be that funny,” he says. “Thanks for the invite.”

With both our heads leaning back on the couch, I take a moment to appreciate how good he looks, splayed out like this in front of me. His long, toned legs stretched out. His hands resting on his stomach. His hair ruffled and out of control.

It dawns on me that I’m checking him out, but I realize his eyes are doing the same to me. They move up my body as his teeth bite on his bottom lip.

“You’re welcome,” I whisper, which pulls him out of his trance.

He stands up quickly. “I should head home. I need a shower, then could use a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you later, Eva.”

I sit up on the couch. “Bye, Roman,” I reply while he is already halfway to my door.

Then he’s gone, and the electric energy that filled my apartment just moments ago disappears with him. It leaves me with a loneliness that I’ve never felt before.

I fall back and sigh. What are you thinking, Eva? Do you really think you can be just friends with him?

It feels like we’re going down a dangerous road, kidding ourselves into thinking we can maintain this friendship without things getting confusing.