Page 22 of Romano
I should try and get some sleep, but I’m much too wired. Rory looked so broken when she saw her mother in that hospital room; it made me feel utterly helpless. Our family is ridiculously wealthy, and I have the means to buy almost anything I want, yet there is very little I can do to help Rory’s mother.
It’s a mild evening so I take my drink and head out onto the terrace. Maybe I can help her. My research into Rory tells me her medical insurance only covers the bare minimum. Her mother’s oncologist is OK, but there are better ones out there. The guy who’s been caring for Aroldo is one of the best in the country. I resolve to call him in the morning and ask him to look at Alice’s notes. He might have access to treatment options that Dr. Lukas can’t offer. It’s worth a try at least.
When I’ve finished my drink, I head back inside, take a quick shower, and pull some cotton PJs on. Rory is dead to the world and doesn’t stir when I slide into bed next to her, being careful not to touch her, even though I desperately want to.
I’m running on fumes and a couple of hours of sleep will do me good. Only my brain refuses to switch off. I can’t stop thinking about Rory. How sad she was. And also how good it felt when she fell asleep on me in the car. Her light perfume fills my bedroom and my cock is rock-hard.
This is the first time I’ve ever brought a woman to my apartment. I always take them to a hotel or go to their place. My apartment is my sanctuary. None of us bring women here. The security riskis just too great. Salvo was the first to break the rule, and I have no doubt that if Christiano manages to patch things up with Cara, she’ll be moving in imminently. He’s gone completely gaga over her.
Not that I have any room to talk. The way I’ve been obsessing over Rory suggests he’s not the only one with a problem. I lie next to her for another hour before my brain finally shuts off.
Chapter 21
Rory
I’m not sure what wakes me. The room is blissfully silent. I can’t hear Joel playing with his toys, or Mom rattling around in the kitchen making coffee. Or even the guy in the apartment above us yelling obscenities at his gaming buddies.
It takes me a few moments to figure out I’m not at home, in my lumpy bed. Instead, I’m lying on a cloud. A soft, fluffy cloud draped in a million thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets.
It’s hot. Too hot, probably because I’m still wearing the hoodie I had on last night, although my sweatpants are missing. If this was anyone else, I’d be panicking about not being fully dressed, but I trust Romano. He may think it’s perfectly reasonable to step in the minute another guy so much as looks at me, like a fucking overbearing caveman, but I can’t deny he’s gone aboveand beyond to help me. I also quite like how protected he makes me feel.
Speaking of…where is he? The sheets are rumpled next to me and there’s a head-shaped imprint on the adjacent pillow, but he must have got up already. This shouldn’t disappoint me, but it does.
Then a door opens and the man himself walks in wearing nothing but a towel around his trim waist, clouds of steam following him from the adjoined bathroom. His hair is damp from the shower and I watch, mesmerized, as a drip of water slides over his hard pecs and down his abs.
I swallow hard, suddenly unable to breathe. My body temperature rises and I morph from uncomfortably warm to virtually combusting in the blink of an eye. Our eyes meet and there’s a blinding flash of heat. I force myself to look away, embarrassed that I’ve been caught staring at a man I’m not supposed to want. God damn him for being so fucking desirable.
“Are you OK, Rory?” he asks in a husky voice and my gaze is drawn back to him. This is a good time to get up, pull my sweats on, and get the hell out of here, but I’m stuck in stasis. A dragonfly caught in amber.
“I’m not sure,” I reply, unable to stop watching that water droplet as it disappears below the fold of the stupidly small towel he wears. The towel that barely covers anything at all. The exact same towel I’d very much like to see on the floor.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Judging by the predatory way he stalks toward the bed, there’s a subtext to his question that doesn’t involve breakfast or a change of clothes.
“I should probably get up…go see Mom…or something…”
“She’s fine. I called an hour ago. She’s come around from the surgery and has been moved into a recovery room. I’ll take you there. We can pick up Joel on the way.”
“How do you know about Joel?”
Dark eyes take in the smudges of mascara around my eyes and the tangles in my hair. “He came up in the background check I ran. I spoke with Mrs. Hopkins and he’s happy. Watching cartoons and eating chocolate buttons, she said.”
Although I should be worried Romano’s been digging into my life, I don’t have the energy to care. It’s doubtful he’d find out anything about what happened in NYC. That shit got buried real quick. Landon’s family didn’t want a scandal and I didn’t want them to know about Joel.
I stare up at him, my hands fiddling with the strings on my hoodie. Mom’s OK. With a long, slow exhale, some of the tension I didn’t realize I was hanging on to vents away. Romano sits on the bed next to me, still wearing the world’s smallest towel, and reaches out to stroke my cheek.
“It’ll be OK, Rory,” he tells me.
“How do you know this?” I want to snap at him but my voice is drenched in vulnerability, and his irises soften from obsidian to warm chocolate.
“Because I spoke to her surgeon and then her oncologist. I’ve asked my uncle’s oncologist to have a look at her case to see if there’s anything he can do to help.”
Terror floods my veins. We can’t afford any more doctors! I have no clue if the surgery Mom had is even covered by our medical insurance. There was no time to check. If our debt gets any deeper, I’ll be working until I’m 150.
“I’m not sure we can—” I start to say, but he interrupts me.
“Rory, don’t worry about the money. We can figure this out later.”
My eyes narrow with suspicion. “What does that mean exactly?” Jesus, am I signing myself up for some kind of sugar baby deal? I know he’s older than me, a lot richer, and used to getting his way, but I’m not having sex for money.