Page 41 of Hate On

She mused about it all day, thinking, too, to what Edgar had said.

A thirty-year squabble.

What kind ofsquabblelasts for thirty years?

One thing was certain…she didn’t want whatever was going on between her and Roman to turn intoanotherthirty-year squabble.

Maybe they could be friends.

Maybe they could be…more.

She didn’t know.

But first she had to get him to talk to her.

On her way home from work, she sent him a text. She’d ignored a text from him on the drive home that night and wondered if that perhaps had something to do with his studiously ignoring her during today’s meeting. They weren’t little kids throwing tantrums and it was time to start acting like the adults they were.

Still, she tried again.

Her message was simple.

Truce?

16

Roman

Truce.

He brooded over that simple word as his older brother, George racked up the balls on the pool table. “What are you brooding about?” George asked, his gaze appraising. “You’ve looked at the phone probably three times in the past ten minutes.”

“Nothing.” Roman shoved the phone back into his pocket, debating on how to answer Julianna. He hadn’t answered yet because he didn’t knowhowto answer her. He wanted to see her. He wasn’t even sure if he was still mad, but his dad was still riding his ass and Roman kept remembering her expression that night in the elevator after his comment,it was fun. Granted, she’d said it first and she’d fucked him over.

But you did start it.That annoying reminder was one he didn’t need.

“For somebody who is brooding over nothing, you sure as hell are broody,” Alessandro commented. Alex was the baby of the family, and every bit as spoiled as one would expect. He was also sharper than a knife’s edge and his keen gaze took in Roman, taking his measure and a smile lit his face as he came to some internal conclusion. “It’s a woman.”

“Fuck off,” Roman suggested and gestured to the table. “Just play, dickhead.”

Without thinking about it, he tugged his phone from his pocket, studying the message once more.

Truce.

She wanted a truce.

What exactly did that mean?

“It’s your turn now, son,” George said, and when Roman looked up, there was a sly grin on his brother’s face.

Annoyed, Roman put the phone down and bent over the table with his cue stick. Calling it, he sank one ball, then another. When he straightened, he saw that George was pawing at his phone, scrolling through shit that he had no business looking at.

And Alex was standing at his side.

Both of them had looks of wide-eyed surprise on their faces.

“What the fuck, dude?” Alex said, awe in his voice.

George was a little more circumspect. “You’ve got a death wish,” he said flatly. “A million women in the world and you choose a Castle to go and tangle with.”