Page 21 of Inside Out
“Anything. I have very eclectic tastes. I have a vinyl record collection I’ve been working on all my life, more CDs than any one person needs, and I also have thousands of songs downloaded to my phone. I would love to hear more of your original music someday.” And, someday, I would let him. I was more curious about his collections though. “Seriously, feel free to look around.” He gestured to the huge entertainment center that took up an enormous chunk of wall space. It was too big and modern to be something he purchased from a store.
“Who made this for you?” I asked once I was standing in front of the ornate metal structure. There were typical level shelves for books, sculptures, and picture frames, but other sections had smaller shelves at angles for unique ways of stacking CDs. Sporadically placed throughout the unit were taller sections that were perfect for vinyl record jackets. The entire thing might’ve looked industrial if it wasn’t for the intricate and delicate metalwork in between the storage units. It reminded me of the popular metal art people hung on their walls, except these were built into the unit. They weren’t the typical family trees, butterflies, or flowers I was used to seeing displayed above fireplace mantels. These looked like they were tailored for the beautiful man in the kitchen. There was the half mask I associated with Phantom of the Opera, an intricate sunrise, a pair of running shoes, a convertible car that looked like an old Mustang, Brutus the Buckeye, and two entwined hearts above a picture frame that was permanently built into the structure. Inside the frame was a photo of two men dressed in suits. They stood looking at one another with huge smiles and so much love in their eyes. My heart squeezed inside my chest when I recognized a much younger Rome was the man standing on the left. He was cupping the taller man’s face and looked as if he were wiping away tears of joy. I instantly knew the man on the right was the reason Rome could relate so well to Howie’s heartbreak from losing his wife.
“That’s Peter,” Rome said softly. I was so caught up in looking at the shelf and staring at the photo of Rome and Peter I hadn’t heard him walk up behind me. Rome placed his hand at the small of my back, and I relaxed into his touch. “He made this massive beast as an anniversary present. He locked me out of the garage for months while he built it.”
“It’s a beautiful work of art.”
“Peter got so tired of me storing my records and CDs in ‘the tackiest possible ways’ all over our house and designed this.”
“How tacky?” I asked, wanting to know that side of Rome and not just the neat and orderly vibe I picked up from him all the time.
Rome groaned, and I turned away from the picture to look into his blue eyes. “The worst! I’m talking fruit crates and any hideous thing I could find that would hold my treasures.”
“You strike me more as an IKEA guy,” I said, gesturing around the clean, modern room. “You’re always so neat when I see you. There’s never a wrinkle in your shirt or a crooked tie around your neck.”
Rome snorted. “You’ve met my secretary. Do you think she’d let me represent such an esteemed position in a wrinkled shirt and an askew tie? I keep extra shirts in my closet because I can be a bit of a train wreck with condiments.”
“Huh. I never would’ve guessed.”
“Are we okay here? Do you have questions you want to ask?” Rome sounded worried and I wanted—needed—to put him at ease.
“About your slovenly ways?”
Rome’s deep chuckle warmed me in places that had gone cold seconds before when I saw proof he was a man who’d loved hard. Was there room for anyone else in his heart? “I was talking about Pete.”
“I could tell by our conversation this morning about Howie you were a man who’d experienced great love and an equally great loss.”
Rome nodded. “Some days, it feels like Pete died just yesterday, and other days, I struggle to remember his voice.” He shook his head. “This isn’t exactly the tone I wanted to set on our first date. First, I sound and look as stiff as a robot when you arrive, and then—”
I silenced him with another soft kiss. I allowed my lips to linger a little longer than the first time, but I didn’t slide my tongue between his lips when they parted to gasp in surprise. I cupped the back of his neck and rested my forehead against his. “I’m attracted to your realness.”
“Maybe I should make a fool of myself more often,” he said then chuckled. I hated the idea of anyone besides me in Blissville seeing this vulnerable side of him. I opened my mouth to express the sentiment, but the oven timer went off.
“How about we continue this conversation over dinner?”
“Sounds great.” Like after our first kiss, Rome linked our fingers together and led me to the kitchen.