Moment of Weakness (Embracing Moments Book 1) (23 page)

Pulling open my car door, I said, “Oh,” as I got in.

“Guns really do make you nervous, don’t they?” Roman hopped in next to me.

“No—Yes—Maybe a little?” I said, tripping over my words. I put the key in the ignition and started the car.

“Most people don’t like them because they’ve never handled one. I can show you . . . teach you how to use one if you’d like.”

An image of Roman standing behind me, his body flush with mine, his breath fanning my cheek, as he rambled off the proper ways to hold a gun surfaced to the forefront of my mind. Um, yeah. Not a good idea.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, getting ready to put the car in reverse. A moment later, Roman’s face was inches from mine, his mouth sharing the same breathing space as my own. His vivid green eyes flicked between my lips and eyes. My body stiffened against the cream-colored leather seat. “What are you doing?”

His tongue darted across his lower lip, and I fought the urge to catch it with my mouth. He lingered there for far too long and then said, “Relax . . . you forgot to put your seat belt on.”

Words slipped back down my throat as I sucked in a sharp breath. Roman grabbed the strap, his hand brushing the top of my thighs as he snapped it into the buckle. “You’re free to go, Miss Parker.”

The car ride there went a lot smoother than I expected. Roman didn’t say much, which I was thankful for, because I had nothing to say to him. We even avoided any traffic issues, making it into town with time to spare. The first apartment scheduled for viewing was right next to The Little Street Café, and since my stomach was running on empty, I figured why the heck not.

As I stepped through the door, a sweet combination of butter, sugar, and flour filled my nose, making my mouth water. Glass display cases stocked with fresh pastries, Danishes, and breads lined the perimeter of the store. Several empty chairs and tables scattered the center floor. That wasn’t typical; once school started, you wouldn’t be able to move around in here. Walking to the counter, I ordered a caramel macchiato, plain bagel with apple cream cheese, and a strawberry crumble cupcake, which I planned to keep for later.

Roman cast me a bemused stare as I sat down at one of the small round tables. “I thought your first appointment was at ten?”

“Ten-thirty, actually.”

Pulling a chair out, he sat across from me. “You lied?”

I shrugged my shoulders and took a small sip of my drink. “We were running late, and besides, you look good in anything you wear.”

Roman lifted a brow, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shit. I did not just say that. I totally just said that.

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?” I said, throwing a crumpled napkin at him.

He laughed, catching it in his hands. “Hey, you said it. I was just enjoying the compliment.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my bagel apart. Roman sat there staring at me, and I felt guilty for eating in front of him. I extended my arm out, offering him a piece. “Want some?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Okay, but you’re missing out,” I said, popping a piece into my mouth. Roman looked at me as though my statement held more meaning than it should have. And maybe in a way it did.

“So how many apartments are you looking at?”

I looked down at my phone to make sure all appointments were still a go. “Four, and I hope I can find one I like, because if not, that would mean having to spend another day here.” I pulled my coffee cup closer, my fingers tracing the outer rim of the lid.

“You mean with me.”

My eyes flicked back to his. “What?”

I watched his lips part as he sucked in a deep breath and then blew it back out. The muscles in his face tightened. “I don’t think you’d hate spending the day here. I think you’d hate having to spend the day here with me . . . hate being stuck with me.”

I stumbled out a laugh. “Um . . . newsflash! I’m always stuck with you, Roman. I have been all summer.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been avoiding me.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said, looking away. “I just haven’t felt like going anywhere.”

My phone rang a second later, and I was thankful for the break in what was becoming an uncomfortable conversation. The realtor who was assisting me with the apartment showings had called to say she was early, and if we’d like to come up sooner, we could. Grabbing my clutch from the table, I stood to my feet and smoothed out my skirt. “Time to go.”

Roman stood, his hand gliding over his stubble-covered jaw. “Lead the way.”

We stepped foot out of the café and walked the ten feet to the glass-windowed building beside it. The front desk concierge welcomed us as we walked through the entrance and then directed us to the elevator. My heels clacked against the white marble floors, the sound echoing throughout the lobby. An older gentleman in a funny-looking hat and matching black button-down jacket stood beside the elevator waiting for us. As we followed him in, I said, “Twenty-fifth floor, please.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” His stubby thumb reached out to press the button with the highest number on the panel. A storm of butterflies awoke in my stomach. Roman stood behind me, the warmth of his chest beating against my back like a furnace. I thought I was over this. Over these
feelings.

The elevator dinged, and a moment later, the door slid open. I hurried out of the elevator and approached a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties. Her bleach blonde hair hung in loose waves around her face, and her gray eyes were a perfect match to her skirt suit. Her blouse cut a little too deep, and her long legs looked better than some of the contestants on
America’s Next Top Model.
The fact that she looked like she belonged on the cover of
Maxim
didn’t
bother me. It was the way she stared at Roman, like he was her next meal, that had me wanting to gouge her eyes out with my heels.

She smiled, her perfect white teeth on display. As we approached, she offered her hand to Roman. Was it wrong to feel insulted? I was, after all, the one looking to sign a lease, not him.

He took her hand in his, a smile playing across his own lips. Jealousy hit me in an unexpected wave. Her hand lingered in his far longer than I was comfortable with, and when she turned to shake mine, I brushed past her toward the apartment door.

“I’m assuming this is the door?” I questioned, forcing a smile.

She cast me an equally fake smile and opened the door. The spacious condo featured floor-to-ceiling windows, three fireplaces, and marble flooring throughout. After looking at the entire space, I stopped in front of the glass window that lined the entire wall and stared out at the view.

“Beautiful,” Roman’s voice said from behind me.

I turned to look at him. “Huh?”

“The view.” He gestured toward the window. “It’s beautiful.”

“Maybe,” I said, directing my attention back toward the window. The entire city was on display, and I imagined the skyline looked even more amazing at sunset. “But it’s too exposed—too open.”

Roman stepped closer to the window, his body angled between me and the backdrop of endless buildings. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yes, there is,” I argued.

“Why?”

“Because I’m used to walls. Walls made of concrete and brick. It’s what I’m familiar with. Without them, the space feels weak—vulnerable.”

“Have you ever considered how much happier you could be without those walls?”

I pushed an exhausted sigh from my lips and shook my head. Something told me this had less to do with the physical walls of the condo. This had to do with me. With him. With us.

My voice lowered, knowing we still had a one-person audience in the room. “I did once, and for a short while, a tiny part of me thought maybe I could be . . . maybe all it would take was finding the perfect glass.” I glanced over at him, and he looked at me with eager attention. “But nothing’s perfect, Roman, because at the end of the day, no matter how damn perfect it is, glass can still crack. I refuse to make that mistake again.”

He thrust his hand through his hair and stepped toward me. His mouth fell open as if to say something. My stomach twisted in anticipation.

“Are you two looking to sign a lease together?”

Roman’s mouth pulled tight. He eyed me for a second, trying to gauge whether the bubbly blonde’s words had ignited a reaction in me.

“No, he’s just . . .” Just what? I didn’t know how to finish that. There was no way I was telling her he was my security detail. We weren’t lovers, and I wasn’t even sure I could classify us as friends.

“I’m just along for the ride,” Roman said, answering for me. Her full lips curled into a smile that made my stomach convulse.

“Should we be moving on to the next one then? It’s just a few blocks away.”

“Sure,” I said, my lips set in a firm line, as I walked out the door.

The morning faded into the afternoon as we made our way through the city. Finding an apartment—one of my own—was something I had looked forward to, but by the time we made it to the third property, my stomach felt nauseated. The second Roman and I confirmed we were not a
thing,
the flirting and heated looks increased tenfold. I tried hard to ignore it, but when she trailed her red, manicured fingertip down his chest, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I snapped. “I’m done. I’ve seen enough. I’ll call you once I decide which one I’ll take.”

Her shapely brows knitted in a frown. “But we have one more condo to look at.”

“Not today,” I said.

“Very well.” She turned to Roman and handed him her business card. “It was nice to meet you Mr.—”

“Hayes,” Roman said, and my blood boiled.

Half of a day.

Half of a damn day, and she had already learned his name. I stormed out of the apartment, opting for the staircase rather than being forced to ride the elevator with them. Pushing my way through the glass spinning doors, I tried to remember where I had parked the car. Roman caught up with me, his breathing fast and uneven as though he had just run a mile.

“You need to stop taking off like that, or at least give me a damn warning next time.”

“Whatever,” I huffed, shielding my eyes with my clutch as I looked at the street signs. When I spotted the one I was looking for, I stalked off toward it.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“
My problem?
You really don’t want me to answer that.” I was walking so fast now, the soles of my shoes were starting to burn.

“Yeah, actually I think I do,” he countered, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around so I was facing him.

“Her!” I pointed back at the building. “
She
was my problem. She was more interested in seducing you then doing her damn job. And you!” I smacked his chest with my clutch. “You fed into it like a lovesick puppy dog.”

“What? The
hell
I did.”

“
Oh, please.
You knew her a whole what?” I looked down at the time on my phone screen. “A whole four hours before she knew your name. It took me three weeks, Roman. Three weeks.” I held my pointer, middle, and index finger to his face just to make my point.

His eyes widened. “You’re jealous of her.”

I scowled. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are. And just for the record, you never asked me my name; you just got all pissy and ran off, just like you’re doing now.”

I forced myself to turn around and walked past him. “I just want to go home.”

“There you go again, burying yourself behind those walls. It may seem fine now, but one day, Julia . . . one day, you’re going to figure out just how lonely it is.”

My nostrils flared at his words. Like he was any better. Time and time again, he made it a point to keep people out,
keep me out.
And yet here he was, lecturing me on something he had already mastered doing. I hurried down the sidewalk. The parking garage was a few more blocks down on the right. My arms swung at my sides, and my heels stomped against the concrete as I weaved through the passerbys. I was almost there when my entire body froze.

Robby walked straight toward me, his arm curled around Megan’s neck as she giggled at something he said. The possibility of running into them hadn’t even crossed my mind. Why weren’t they in Europe? I twisted in place and bolted back in the other direction, hoping there was a shop I could escape into.