Teaching Roman (10 page)

For one moment, I lost myself in the possibility of us. I imagined a life that included him. Not just a relationship—an entire lifetime that stretched past college and medical school and middle age and wrinkles.

Roman’s arms wrapped around my waist. “Are you okay? Does it still hurt?”

I couldn’t form words. The lump in my throat was too large. Instead I turned on my heels and kissed him with slow, soft lips.

When we broke apart, Roman stared down at me, and I saw the same confusion in his eyes.

“I—” he started, but I kissed him before he could say something we’d both regret. Soon the spell would be broken and I would be called back to my ordinary life in Olympic Falls. We’d made an agreement, and we had to stick to it.

Roman helped me get dressed, his hands lingering on my thighs as he tugged up my panties and his fingers trailing lightly over my breasts as he helped me with my bra. Thanks to the peppers there was no way I was letting him in my treasure trove, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he brushed aside my hair and kissed my neck.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, but I don’t feel like eating anything hot,” I admitted.

“Fair enough.” His hand dropped to mine and he pulled me toward the kitchen. “I just need to clean up the kitchen.”

But Aba was already there. The counters were clean, save for a jug of milk. She smiled at us, and her grin only grew wider as I blushed.

“In the future,” she said in her heavy accent, “milk is best.”

“Best for?” Roman asked, obviously confused.

She pointed to his pants and said without missing a beat, “For the burning, lover boy.”

I
took a long sip of the white dinner wine Aba had given me. For the moment, under the twinkling strands of light hung over her porch, I was completely relaxed. The contentment I felt around Roman increased each day even as the unease of our upcoming deadline knotted my stomach. Here in Mexico everything felt possible, but I knew that sense of possibility would dissipate the moment I stepped on the plane. How was I supposed to erase the memories of days spent on the beach with him and nights spent in bed, whispering, kissing, and laughing?

Laughter filtered through my thoughts and I turned to see Roman and Aba carrying large bowls toward the outside table. They spoke quickly in Spanish, much too quickly for me to follow what they were saying. But from the joyful looks on both their faces they felt as happy as I did a few moments ago. A knot tightened into my stomach and I set down my wine glass.

“Can I help you with anything?” I asked, eager to distract myself from the confusion churning inside me.

“No, no, no!” Aba flapped her arms at me, shaking her head. “You sit.”

“Aba doesn’t let guests lift a finger,” Roman added with a smile. “I’m surprised I was allowed to help you.”

“You are a man now. You should be taking care of your lady,” she informed him.

I blushed at being called his lady. It felt old-fashioned and a little dishonest considering that we’d spent this afternoon tangled naked in bed with one another. Since Roman and I’s agreement, I’d been anything but a lady. Part of me was actually going to miss the total abandon I felt here—with him. Back in Olympic Falls I would be Jess Stone again—good girl, premed student, best friend. I yawned at the thought.

Roman’s fingers trailed softly down my bare arm, drawing my attention back to him. “Tired?”

“I had quite the work out today,” I whispered.

“I’d hoped you might be up for a bon voyage party,” he admitted with a grin.

I did my best to meet his smile, but failed miserably. Why did he have to bring up the fact that tonight was the end of everything we’d started here? But before I could start crying, Aba began ladling food onto my plate. Rice and chicken. Beans and peppers. I had no idea what any of it was called in Spanish, but it all smelled delicious.

I ate until I thought I might burst, laughing until I nearly cried as Aba told me about Roman’s childhood exploits. I howled over a story involving a jellyfish.

“Laughing at my pain? You wound me!” Roman clutched his chest dramatically.

“I’m going to be a doctor, I have to be able to laugh off the pain,” I said, widening my eyes innocently.

“I question your bedside manner.” His fingers knit through mine.

I arched an eyebrow at the unintended double meaning in his statement, and he turned away unable to keep a straight face.

“You!” Aba pointed at her grandson. “Take the dishes into the kitchen and let the girls talk.”

“She’s putting you to work, huh?”

“Aba is more interested in you. I can’t say that I blame her.” He released my hand and planted a swift kiss on my lips before standing to gather our dirty plates.

“Women shouldn’t take care of a man’s every need,” Aba told me, her accent thick on her tongue. “They go soft.”

As luck would have it, I’d just taken a sip of wine and choked on it, trying not laugh.

“Only in the home,” Aba continued, a sly smile creeping over her lips. “A Spanish man does not ever go soft there.”

I opened my mouth, trying to think of something to say, but she’d literally stolen my ability to speak.

“Poor American girls. I forget sex is not to speak of in your country.”

“We talk about it,” I admitted. “Just not with people...”

“Who are old as I am?” Aba waved this off with a flutter of her hand and a laugh. “But we old people know so much about it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Aba leaned forward and placed her hand over mine. Her skin was thin as paper, but the weight of it was comforting. “Roman—he is in love with you. You love him?”

“I...” I swallowed against the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. My heartbeat sped up as I considered her question, even though I already knew the answer. But the fact was that it was impossible. We’d only just gotten together and we both knew the relationship had to end. Still none of that seemed to matter to my heart. “I don’t know.”

Aba’s dark eyes stared at me, reflecting the wisdom that came with her age. It was something I felt lacking in myself, especially this week when every decision I made seemed to feel so wrong and so right at the same time. “You do.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” I said quickly. “Roman and I—we can’t be together. It’s not allowed.”

“By who?” she asked with a snort. “Love is love. It’s not to be allowed. It only happens.”

And it had happened to me. As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t. We’d crashed into love as recklessly as we’d crashed into bed. It was something I couldn’t take back, which made the fact that I was leaving tomorrow all that much harder to bear. “I wish we could be. I really do, but I’m a student and he’s a teacher.”

“He’s not your teacher,” she pointed out.

“Not anymore,” I allowed. “But that doesn’t matter. There are rules.”

“The heart cares not for rules.” She folded her hands in her laps and looked at me as though daring me to challenge her on this.

“No, it doesn’t,” I whispered. I knew that she was right. That no matter how much I tried to deny the fact that I’d fallen for Roman Markson, I had.

She stood and gathered the remaining bowls from the table. “You will be together.”

She disappeared in a swirl of brightly colored skirts back to the kitchen before I could respond. Before I could tell her that was impossible.

T
he beach was quiet. Moonlight sparkled in ripples across the water as we slipped off our shoes. My toes sank into the soft sand, still warm from the long-set sun. Roman’s hand closed over mine and dragged me toward the waves lapping gently along the shore. But tomorrow’s impending goodbye weighed heavily on me, stealing the short time we had left together.

Aba’s advice echoed in my mind. Romantic relationships were important. But it was a lot easier to tell someone that than it was to make one work. Besides, I had plenty of people in my life to keep me balanced. How many times had Cassie and Jillian seen me through a rough patch? Or dragged me away from the library? I didn’t need a boyfriend.

Aba wanted me to take a chance with Roman. That much was clear, but she had no clue how complicated that would be for both of us. We made sense in Mexico, so, of course, she saw us that way. But we both had lives back in Olympic Falls.

Roman dropped my hand, drawing my attention back to this moment. I only had one more evening with him. I shouldn’t waste it. He waded in a few feet and called. “Trust me?”

My mouth twisted into a smile. The swimming lessons he’d promised me had been few and far between, but maybe it was the relative calm of the ocean tonight. Or maybe it was that I wasn’t the same girl who’d flown to Mexico less than a week ago.

Or maybe it was that he was here with me.

Tugging the knot tied at the side of my wrap dress, I let it fall open. I couldn’t see Roman’s eyes clearly in the dark, but I did know he was suddenly very still. I made a show of it, shrugging the dress over my shoulders and finally letting it flutter to the sand. Thanks to the unexpectedly hedonistic side of myself I’d discovered during my time here, I was braless. Hooking my thumbs in the band of my panties, I called out, “Does this answer your question?”

“Come on in. The water is warm.” I heard the smile in his voice.

“I thought we were going for a swim.” I wiggled my panties lower but didn’t take them off.

Roman’s shirt was over his head in a flash, revealing his perfectly lickable slab of abs. He strode toward me and grabbed me around the waist. “Your turn.”

“I feel like you got more bang for your buck.” I raised my eyebrows suggestively as I pressed myself against him. My body responded immediately, my skin blazing to life at his touch. But underneath the smoldering intensity of his embrace, a delicious ache spread through my chest. My breath hitched as a familiar rawness built in my throat. Roman’s finger tipped my chin up so that our eyes met. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t have to. The same happy confusion shone in his dark eyes.

But we didn’t speak because we both felt the moments between us slipping away. We’d said a week, but that was before—before the irresistible connection I felt to him had shifted, evolving into something I wasn’t prepared for.

Something I’d never felt before.

Suddenly all the questions I’d had vanished along with all the reasons why I didn’t need him in my life. At that moment he was the very air in my lungs. He was the beat of my heart. With his finger still pressed to my chin, Roman leaned down, slanting his lips to meet mine in a gentle kiss. The breeze brushed past us and the tide washed over our feet and Roman Markson was kissing me for the first time.

It wasn’t my first kiss. It wasn’t our first kiss.

But it was the first kiss that ever mattered.

I’d gone a thousand miles away from my life to finally discover home in the arms of someone I had to leave tomorrow.

But this—what was happening between us—was so much more. This wasn’t a fling. Roman wouldn’t become a wistful story I told about
that one time in Mexico
. I was going to see him on campus. But this wasn’t like other guys I’d slept with. I couldn’t imagine averting my eyes out of embarrassment or sharing a casual greeting. The thought of leaving him behind—leaving us behind—seemed impossible.

Roman broke away and peered into my eyes searchingly. “I don’t want you to go.”

I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t have a choice, and we both knew it. I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Let’s not talk about it now.”

Part of me wanted to discuss it. I couldn’t help wishing that we could find a way. We could stay here forever, abandon our lives in Washington, make love on the beach, grow old together. A smile crept onto my lips at the idea, but it was as fleeting as the fantasy.

“Jessica, no one has ever fit into my life like you. I’ve spent this week feeling as if I’d found the piece of myself that I never knew was missing. I know what we said, and I know that there are a million reasons to end things tomorrow—” Roman began.

I pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t.”

The only thing that would be harder than running into him on campus would be wondering if I made the right choice. If we stuck to our plan, there was no choice. We’d agreed to spend a week together. I’d never regret this week. I never wanted to regret Roman.

He pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me softly. This wasn’t how I wanted to leave things between us. I didn’t want our final memories to be full of sadness. Roman made me feel alive and I craved the rush of electricity I found when our skin touched. Tomorrow I would go back to being Jess Stone, responsible pre-med student. Tonight I wanted to be reckless and passionate, rebellious and carefree.

Everything I had to leave behind at the security gate tomorrow.

Tonight belonged to Roman, and I needed to remind him of that. Sliding my underwear off, I kicked them off triumphantly and waded backward a few feet until I was up to my knees. I beckoned him with my finger, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist me. He glanced away for a split second, but when he finally looked back to me a smile curved slowly across his lips.

“Aren’t you getting daring,” he said. He dropped his shorts, and we stared at each other. Here we were—both naked, both vulnerable—and I’d never felt more comfortable. My gaze traveled down his muscular body and I whistled appreciatively.

“You shouldn’t be hiding that behind sweater vests,” I informed him.

He caught his dick in his hand and winked. “This?”

“Definitely not that,” I said.

“I’m going to have to get a professorship at Berkley if you want me to teach in the buff,” he said dryly.

“Wait until the administration sees the enrollment for your class.” I licked my lips as he walked slowly toward me. “They’ll want all the instructors to adopt your dress code.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Roman pointed out, grabbing hold of my waist and swinging me in a large circle before gathering me close to him. I giggled as the light-headed ecstasy of simply being with him washed over me. I didn’t even protest when he pushed us out further into the water.