Sweet Rome Page 69
Loving the feeling of her warm breath against my skin, I huffed. “What the hell kind of name is Romeo for the prized son of the wealthiest family in Alabama? My folks always called me Rome in public, but in private, I was Romeo. They used it as a taunt and curse. Romeo the whore’s son, Romeo the non-returnable bad gift—and they never, ever let me forget it.”
“Where did she go, your birth mother?”
My stomach churned as I thought of the woman who practically sold me off like some damn piece of meat. I used to wonder if my life would’ve been better if she’d kept me, but hell, she was just some whore, some bitter slut. Ironic really considering that’s what I’d turned into too, a whore who treats girls like crap.
I caught Mol’s expectant gaze, awaiting my response, so I shook my head and said, “Probably back to whatever hole she crawled out of.”
Sighing deep, she dropped her gaze and said quietly, “Romeo, I—”
I knew this was it, the part when she let me down gently. I wouldn’t recover from the loss.
I couldn’t deal, so thrust her out of my arms and said bitterly, “You’re going to leave me, aren’t you? I knew I’d lose you. I just knew it. Who’s going to put up with my parents’ shit? I’m not worth everything they’ll put you through if we stay together, am I?”
Flashback after flashback of my life over recent months slammed into my mind. I’d never known such happiness, and although I’d coped with a lot during my life, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it without her by my side anymore. Sometimes you just know when a person is meant for you, and I always had with her. She got me… She f**king saved me.
I could no longer control my breathing and a hollow pain burst in my stomach, causing me to slump on the sofa and, f**k, but I couldn’t stop the tears this time. The thought of her leaving reduced me to a crying friggin’ mess.
Gentle arms folded tightly around my back and chest and I flinched and tried to get away. Molly shushed me soothingly and pulled me down until my head was lying on her lap, her fingers moving to comb through my hair.
I didn’t know if it was the comfort of her touch or the enormity of all that happened tonight, but a flood of memories raced to the front of my mind: punches, hits, harsh insults, punishments… everything.
Molly was sniffing and shaking above me, and I knew she was crying too. I’d never loved her more than I did in that moment, sharing my grief, and when she lifted my face with her hands, whispering, “Romeo—” I sucked up a breath, and for the first time in my life uttered the words, “I love you… I love you,” as I stared into her golden eyes, praying she would just give me one more chance to make her happy.
“W-what?”
I lay back on the couch, suddenly exhausted, and brought my girl to lie above me, confessing, “I love you. I love you beyond anything I could’ve ever imagine was possible.”
A gamut of emotions danced across her face before it melted into what looked like relief, and she whispered, “I love you, too, babe. I love you so, so much.”
I’d never heard those words directed at me before. I love you—three little words that, up until I’d met Molly, I thought were reserved for sappy f**king films and unrealistic dreamers. But hell, hearing them from her lips made me feel alive, and I couldn’t believe she meant it. She’d been verbally torn apart because of me, thrust from her quiet life into a shitstorm.
Rubbing at her cheeks, I asked, “Baby, you do? Even after—”
Pressing her finger to my lips, she said, “I’m not going anywhere. I came in here to tell you that. I was in the truck, listening to you hurting, and I knew I had to be with you no matter what, tell you that I’m never going to leave you.”
“But my parents…”
“Yes, your parents tonight were something else, but they won’t ever chase me from you, from loving you. We’re star-crossed, Romeo. Interfering parents come as part of the package.”
And there it was, her unshakable strength, her ability to pull me back from the darkness, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was always searching for the fairy tale, the happily ever after. But she was mine, and she f**king loved me.
“I feel stripped bare right now… like someone has ripped open my chest and all you’re seeing is a mangled heart held together by jagged scars,” I whispered, seeing her eyes glisten once more.
Fingers crawled up to my chest and she began shedding me of my shirt, button by button, pressing those damn soft lips against my heart.
It felt incredible.
Watching her slowly move down my body, I said, “No one has ever known what they’re really like behind closed doors. I’ve never told a soul. You were a big old brick through their glass fortress tonight. I could see the panic in my daddy’s eyes. You could destroy everything they’ve worked so hard for.”
Pausing, she replied, “As bad as that was, I’m glad I was there, that I now know what you cope with. We can’t erase the secrets and marred memories of our pasts, but we can build the next chapter of our lives together.”
She wasn’t leaving me.
“Mol…” I croaked, unable to finish the sentence.
“Shh…” she said, a teasing smile on her lips, and she began to push my shirt aside and shimmy down my legs.
Groaning at her touch, my hips lifted automatically as she began to undo the waistband of my slacks.