Page 13 of Loving Roman (The Summer Twins #3)

–roman–

I press into Alice, trying to meld her body permanently to mine. Our kisses linger, neither of us wanting to separate, but eventually, we need to take a breath. Our lips stay connected as we each suck oxygen into our lungs.

I’ve been dreading the moment we have to say goodbye.

I want to stay in this bubble we’ve created forever.

I want to confess that I’ve fallen in love with her.

That I don’t want to go our separate ways.

I want to know where she lives and whether we can make a relationship work somehow.

I want her phone number and last name. I want to maintain contact.

I want to build a life with her by my side. If only it weren’t impossible.

I don’t want to lose her.

“Alice …”

She presses her finger to my lips and shakes her head softly. “I agree to your proposal,” she murmurs with a quiet smile touching her kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes sparkle beneath the blue sky as she peers up at me through thick lashes.

Hope flows swiftly through my body, filling all the empty spaces— how did she know? —and my cheeks lift with a grin knowing she wants more too.

“We’ll meet back here in this exact spot one year from today.”

My heart sinks like the teenage boy I rescued in the sea.

I was wrong. She’s happy to keep this as a vacation fling, and I could kick my own ass for putting the suggestion on the table that very first day.

One thing I’ve learned about Alice is that she’s a stickler for keeping to the rules.

And while I’m also that way inclined, I want to break the rules this once.

Smash them to pieces.

Obliterate them until the pieces are so small they’re no longer in existence.

She pushes up onto her toes and presses her lips to mine in a barely there kiss. Without any thought, I cup her cheeks and hold her to me to deepen our kiss. I don’t want to let her go. I won’t survive the year not being able to see her, speak with her, hold her … kiss her.

After long moments, she pulls away, and I press my forehead to hers as agony tears through my body. Saying goodbye is more painful than I could have imagined. It’s like I’m cleaving off a part of my body.

“Give me your number,” I beg.

Without lifting her forehead from mine, she shakes her head. “We agreed, Roman,” she says softly, her eyes boring into mine, begging me to understand. “Our lives don’t have room for a relationship.”

My rational mind knows this. It’s why I made the suggestion of a vacation fling with no strings.

I don’t have time for a relationship outside of the kids.

They take up all of my time, and until this week I was satisfied with that.

But I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know I could feel this way, and I resent that I can’t have my job and Alice, too.

I blow out a long, defeated breath. “I know.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “I … I just don’t want to give this up. I don’t want to give you up.”

She raises her hand and presses it over my heart. “This week has been one of the best of my life. I’ll hold it close in my memory and my heart. I know I’ll draw on this experience often when I’m lonely. Spending this time with you … it’s been a true gift. One I’ll always cherish.”

“Me too.”

She grins, and I slide her hair behind her ears so there’s nothing hindering my view of her beautiful face. Her clear eyes capture mine, and we stare at each other like we’re both committing the other to memory.

Her smile falls. “I really need to get going. I promised Noah and Heather I’d meet them for lunch.”

My chest tightens as if a boa constrictor is wrapped around me, and I swear I’m having a heart attack. I hold back the grimace that wants to break free and smile softly. “Drive safely, please.”

“I will.”

I lean down and capture her lips again, lingering for as long as she’ll allow, reluctant to let her go.

I’m proud of myself when I pull away and open the driver’s door for Alice.

She dips inside her car, and I lean down to draw the seatbelt across her body.

I can’t resist one more kiss, and when I pull away, her glistening eyes and the tears on her cheeks capture my attention.

Swiping beneath her eyes, my heart shatters into the sharpest shards. “Don’t cry,” I murmur.

She chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. This is just so hard.”

Dropping my forehead to hers, I agree. “More difficult than I could have imagined.”

“Tell me we’re doing the right thing,” she whispers, seeking validation, but I can’t give it to her .

This feels wrong on so many levels.

“Twelve months will fly by,” I say instead.

She nods. “Yeah, it will. I have a new job and a house to get settled into. That will give me something to focus on.” She draws a sharp breath. “And you said your job keeps you very busy with long hours. We’ll be back here before we know it.”

I force a smile to my lips. “We will.” I take one last kiss from the woman I know I’ll think about constantly and close her inside her car.

Tucking my hands into my pockets so I don’t rip open her door and drag her back out, I watch her start the engine and back out of her parking space.

She waves and smiles sadly before driving away.

I’m left standing in the parking lot, my heart in tatters.

The urge to jump in my car and follow her is overwhelming, but I need to get some gifts for the kids, as well as Kate and Oliver.

Shopping will be the perfect distraction and give me time to gather myself before I head home.

Pulling into the driveway, I’m thankful the kids are still in school, so I have a chance to recalibrate before I’m bombarded. I turn the engine off and sit in my car to peer at the house I share with six almost teenagers.

I love the work I do. I really do. It fills my cup like nothing else could.

Until Alice .

I study the house I’ve called home for the last thirteen years and remember the kids who have come and gone from my care.

The work I do is important. I know that.

I’ve cherished every moment I’ve had here, even the frustrating and heartbreaking ones.

But as I look at the house, a tiny seed of resentment takes root.

This is the reason I can’t pursue something with Alice, and it makes my gut twist.

The feeling is unfamiliar and unwelcome.

I shove it down deep and climb out of my car, collect my things, and traipse inside. Nothing good can come from negativity and resentment.

Without thinking twice, I unpack, wash my laundry, and set about making lemon drop cookies for the kids when they get home from school.

They always make their own way home on Fridays, seeing as it’s the only day they don’t have any after-school activities.

I purposely keep the afternoon free so they can wind down after a busy week.

It helps them transition into the weekend.

Going from room to room, I check everything is in order, then shoot Kate a quick text.

Me

I’m home.

Thanks for taking care of the kids and the house.

Everything looks great.

Will I see you tomorrow for our usual Saturday catch up?

I don’t expect her to respond straight away because school has only just finished, and I know she likes to wait out front with her students to ensure they’re collected by their parents, so I’m surprised when my phone buzzes.

Kate

Yay! I’m glad you’re home safe

Oliver and I had so much fun with the kids, but I can’t wait to hear all about your vacation

See you tomorrow

My lips spread wide as I chuckle quietly. I can’t imagine Oliver being thrilled about staying for the week with a bunch of kids, but he’d do anything for Kate.

The screen door bangs open, and it sounds like a herd of elephants has crashed through the front of the house.

I place the last cookie on the cooling rack and poke my head around the kitchen door.

The kids’ eyes light up as they drop their school bags and bolt for me, almost knocking me over with their exuberant greeting.

I laugh loudly as I wrap my arms around them all and hold them to me. Even Sammy joins in, which raises my spirits further. That tiny seed of resentment gets pushed down deep to ensure it never sees the light of day again. Obviously, the week away skewed my perspective.