Page 181 of Hate to Love You
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“You don’t know? Abigail, you lived in that building.”
What the fuck.
“Roman, I just want to go home,” I glare at him.
“You are going home.” He replies, his answer short.
“That’s not my home Roman.” I shake my head at him, as he smirks back at me.
“It used to be,” He says, his eyes sparkling as he stares at me, “is there a reason you don’t want to go there?” He probes, trying to pry something from my lips.
“Bad neighborhood,” I reply with a shrug, brushing off his question before looking back out the window. “And I just don’t like it there.”
“Fine,” he sighs, relenting. “But first, I need to check on something at the penthouse.”
I fight to resist the urge to cave and give in to his wishes. But instead, I scoot silently across the backseat toward him, resting my head on his shoulder as his arm wraps around me, pulling me ever closer.
“Thank you,” I whisper in response, my body tired after dancing all evening, and my feet aching as my heels finally claim my toes as their victim.
With his other hand, Roman reaches across, and places it on my knee before giving it a squeeze. Warmed by his body, I close my eyes, letting sleep claim me.
The sound of a door slamming drags me from my slumber.
“Fuck!” He rumbles in my ear.
Groggily I look around, blinking the sleep from my eyes.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Roman murmurs quietly, rubbing his hand down my arm. “You can stay in the car.”
“How long was I asleep?” I ask, my throat dry.
“An hour.”
“It doesn’t take an hour to get from the gala to here,” I say, straightening, my bones cracking as I flex my spine.
“We may have circled a few times,” he says quietly, clearing his throat. “I thought you could get some sleep. It’s been… a night.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head.
“I’m not a delicate little flower, Roman, I’m fine.”
He scoffs quietly to himself, a soft smile on his lips. Lips that are so perfect, that I find myself leaning in, electricity crackling between us as I stare up at him.
He leans forward, his lips ghosting over mine, kissing me softly, but setting my body on fire at the same time.
“Shall we head up?” I breathe, watching him smile.
Without saying a word, he exits the car, the door slamming closed behind him, but before I have a chance to open my own door he’s already there, extending his hand to me.
Sliding out of the car I glance up toward the massive building, staring at the place where I once lived.
My pretty prison…that nearly killed me.
This building is a reminder of all that I lost, not just myself but my child too.