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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Roman

D rew slides the papers across my desk. I scan them, looking at the final numbers for the week.

“It looks great. You plan to start on the top three floors first?” I ask as I hand them back.

He leans back in his chair. “That’s the plan. The lobby and the restaurant should be done in the next two weeks. We can work our way down three floors at a time. It will still give you enough rooms to maintain the numbers you need to stay profitable.”

“I have to say, I expected more hiccups along the way with the lobby being renovated.”

He chuckles. “Me too. Eva did a great job with finding vendors that delivered all the custom items on time. Nothing was delayed.”

Just hearing her name has my stomach feeling uneasy. It’s been three days since I invited her over for dinner, and she’s dodged each invite I put out there. I tried to stop by her place the other night, but she wasn’t there.

Something feels off. It feels like she’s pulling away from me. I’ve had this sinking feeling for days.

“Eva’s one of a kind,” I admit through the thick of my dread.

Drew stands and pulls at his neck. “Well, I should get back to the hotel. Gotta make sure my guys stay on schedule. I’ll catch ya later, boss.”

After work, I try to tell myself that I’m going to let her come to me. I’m done trying to see her and getting rejected.

I opt to walk home from work, sending Aaron home early. It’s nice out, and I can use the time to myself.

But as I walk down the streets, my mind races with reasons why Eva might be putting distance between us. Maybe she doesn’t want to take a chance with me when I’ve already told her I don’t do love.

Or could it have to do with the fact that I ran into her bathroom like a chump at even the mention of the word?

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

Weakness got the best of me.

I pull out my phone and send off a text.

Any plans for tonight?

I don’t even recognize myself anymore. This is not like me. I’m not the type of guy whose whole life revolves around one person, but that’s what she’s doing to me.

She’s making it hard for me to move from one thing to the next without wondering what she’s doing or when I’ll get to see her again.

This is why I didn’t want to do love. It’s dangerous. It’s scary. And as soon as I give in to the idea, the other person flips the switch.

I’m still a little under the weather. I’ll probably just stay in for the night.

Anger surges in my veins. Something is going on. Why wouldn’t I be able to stop over and see her if she’s sick? And if she is sick, why wasn’t she home the other night?

In a fit of rage, I start to type out a text, then delete it. After doing this for five minutes straight, I decide I’m too heated to send anything. I need to blow off some steam before I confront her.

Then my phone rings.

Walker.

“Hey, buddy,” I answer, trying to sound cool and casual. Not like his sister is currently in the midst of breaking my heart—one that I’ve worked so hard to keep guarded.

“Roman, it’s Friday night. Colton and I are going out for drinks and dinner. Come join.”

“Just left work. Where are you guys going?”

“I’ll text you the place. I’m heading there from the courthouse right now. See you soon.”

I hang up the phone and find the bar he’s talking about. It has good ratings and what looks to be a decent menu. Of course, it’s in the opposite direction of where I’m walking.

I turn around and make the hike eight blocks to the bar. Walker and Colton are already sitting at a high-top table when I get there.

“You made it,” Colton greets as I approach the table.

I pull my jacket off and throw it on the empty barstool. Then work to rid myself of my tie. “I made it. Started walking home after work so I had to haul ass to get down here. You couldn’t have made that phone call five minutes sooner?”

Walker covers his mouth to hide his laugh. “Sorry, man. Didn’t realize I needed to do things based on your schedule. My bad.”

“Let’s get a drink for this grumpy ass,” Colton says as he nods to the waitress.

I am a grumpy ass. I’m already regretting being here. What I would really like to be doing is pounding on Eva’s door. I don’t play games. If this is what a relationship looks like with her, I’m out.

I can’t be constantly walking around, wondering if we’re okay or not.

“We’ll do another round of beers. One for our friend this time too,” Colton tells the waitress, who smiles suggestively at me.

I nod my head at her, in no mood to give a fake smile.

“I’ll be right back with your beers,” she says softly, then walks away.

Walker hits my arm. “Dude, she wants you. You couldn’t even pretend to have some kind of interest? She’s hot.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I don’t understand not being in the mood. Sex cures all moods,” Walker quips.

Colton chuckles, but all I can picture is sex with Eva. Sex with Eva would cure all my moods. It doesn’t even have to be sex. Just being near her cures everything.

The moment the beer is placed in front of me I chug half of the glass.

“So,” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, “tell me what’s going on with you two. I’ve been buried in this renovation, and I haven’t had time to catch up.”

I do my best to listen to their updates because I should care. They’re my friends. I shouldn’t be so drowned in my own sorrows that I can’t be happy for their successes. But after three beers and a burger that I barely tasted, I decide I can’t do this right now.

“All right, I’m calling it a night. I’m beat.”

Colton and Walker look at each other suspiciously.

Colton turns toward me. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

Yeah, I suck at acting. I’ll definitely never make it to Broadway.

Walker lifts his chin and meets my eyes. “Dude, you’ve been like this for months. Always too busy or tired to go out. What’s up with you?”

“It’s …” I start, but Colton cuts me off.

“Dude, if you say it’s the renovation.”

I realize I’m not getting out of this without some type of honesty. Maybe it’s the three beers that have given me a bit of a buzz, but I’m no longer interested in lying.

“It’s … a girl.”

Both of their eyes open wide in disbelief.

“Whoa,” Walker replies. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“No shit,” Colton adds. “Is it serious?”

I pull at the back of my neck as more tension builds. I can’t look Walker in the eye. “It’s a bit confusing. It started casually. I’m not sure what it is right now.”

“Are you, like … in love with her?” Walker asks.

“I’m just trying to figure out why she’s been rejecting my invitation to hang out the last week.”

Colton seems almost impressed. “Wow. You’ve found a woman out there who isn’t hanging on your every word. I like her already.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

He laughs. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t mean it like that.”

“Maybe she’s busy,” Walker inserts. “It’s only a week. This is New York. People are busy.”

“She said she’s been sick.”

Colton and Walker both give me blank stares.

I shift in my seat, not quite understanding what’s going on. “What?”

“Did you ever think that maybe she’s actually sick?” Colton asks.

“If she was sick, why wasn’t she home when I stopped by the other night?”

“How do you know she wasn’t home?” Walker asks. “And you just stopped by, even when she said she was too sick?”

Doubt creeps in as they begin to hammer me with these questions. Am I … overreacting?

“Yeah, I stopped by. I wanted to make sure she was okay. And she didn’t answer the door.”

I realize my stopping by wouldn’t seem as weird if I told them she lived in my building. But admitting that feels like I’d practically be telling them who it was.

Colton lowers his head into his hand. “Dude, she could have been at the drugstore, picking up medicine. At the doctor.”

“Yeah. Or maybe she was sleeping,” Walker says.

They can’t hide their laughter as it all starts to dawn on me. I’ve got it bad. I made up this entire scenario in my head, worrying over nothing, when she is likely just sick at her place and wanting some rest.

“Shut up.” I scowl at them as they continue to laugh their asses off.

“You’ve got it bad,” Colton jokes.

They’re right. I’ve been reading her silence as rejection. And why?

Because I’m scared. Because the moment I thought she was pulling back, I felt the floor tilt beneath me.

This isn’t casual anymore. Not even close. This is … love.

I scrub a hand over my face.

I love her so much that I’m feeling unsteady. Vulnerable. And instead of sitting with that, I’ve gone straight to fear. Accusation. Doubt.

I lean back in my chair, staring blankly at the bar. I’m such an idiot. She’s probably at home sick right now, and I turned it into a breakup in my head.

The realization settles in the pit of my stomach.

I’m in love with her.

And the scariest part about that?

I haven’t even told her yet.