FOOTSTEPS BOUND DOWN the stairs and Roman appears, smiling widely at the two of us before catching eyes on my empty wine glass. "Ede, you can't just hand out wine to everyone. He's not even 21 yet."

"Yeah, yeah," Eden groans, grabbing the wine bottle and standing up. "I'm going to sleep. I figure you'll stay in Roman's room, but there's a guest bed as well, Braylen. Just down the hall. Night, boys."

She sashays away, standing on her toes to kiss Roman's cheek before disappearing from the kitchen. All too suddenly we're alone and I find myself wishing that Eden hadn't taken the wine with her when she left. Roman's eyes are on me, his shoulders slumped. It suddenly felt like all of these things made sense about him. Like I was seeing more of him than he's ever let me see before.

        "Are you hungry?" he asks tentatively, breaking me out of my stupor. I watch him as walks into the kitchen, ruffling through the fridge looking for food.

        "Not really," I admit. He stops searching and turns to me, running a hand over his head. "Rome?"

         "Are you mad?" he asks, eyes turning down. He leans forward onto the counter just beside me, forcing his head to tuck close to his chest. "I just...I don't want you to be mad."

         I raise my eyebrows in confusion. "Mad about what?" I press. "Roman, look at me."

        He does, slowly. His eyes were pained, apprehensive. "You're really cut up about this," I notice, worry for him settling straight in my chest. "Rome, why would I be mad at you?"

         "I don't know," he murmurs. "For not telling you, I guess."

         A soft chuckle leaves my lips. "You're adorable." The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them and for once, I don't regret saying them. I want them to stay in the air between us, right where they belong. "Rome, I'm not angry with you. I swear."

        He stares at me with a hesitant expression. Like he doesn't believe me. "Are you sure?" he whispers.

       I breathe out a sigh before reaching out and grabbing his left hand, pulling him close to me until my back was pressed against the counter and he was pressed against me. Roman sighs loudly and I bring my hands to his face, caressing the soft skin on his face and placing a small kiss on his lips. His eyes lower to mine slowly. "We were kids," he starts, breathing softly. "I met Eden a few years ago. At my birthday party."

        I nod, bringing my hands from his face to settle low on his hips. "I had just broken up with my first...everything," he mumbles. "I was heartbroken. I thought that the love of my life didn't want me anymore. And she shows up with her bright eyes and charm. And no one said it flat-out but sentences would trail off. 'Wouldn't it just be so great if you and Eden...?'

       "She became one of my best friends pretty soon," he continues. "I was confused and sad and lonely and she was there for me. Through it all. And pretty soon my own brain started filling out those sentences. Because it would be great with Eden. It would be as easy as breathing with her. It would make my dad happy, it wouldn't make me gay, and maybe he'd actually be able to look at me at the dinner table."

        I inhale sharply through my nose. "So, what happened?"

        "We both hung out one night and, I don't know," he recounts, an unreadable expression on his face. "We were just talking and then I kissed her and she let me. The next morning we woke up and laughed about it, about how weird it had been. And then she missed her period.

        "Telling our parents was the scariest thing I've ever done. Her dad was livid. Threatened to kill me. Her mother was a bit kinder about the situation. The two were going through a divorce at the time, so lines were quickly drawn. Eden and her mom stayed together and her father left. This was their house; she and Isla stay here permanently but Whitney moved into a smaller place nearby. I come home every weekend, sometimes more to see them."

I swallow hard. "Which is why you disappear every Friday. For them." Roman nods once and something inside me deflates. He was so good, so incredibly, indescribably good. How could he have thought I'd be angry at him? "How did your father take it?"

Roman's face turns ashen. "Not well," he chuckles bitterly. "I think it would've been fine if this was the only thing. But me getting a girl pregnant, me being pansexual, me deciding to forgo college to provide for my daughter...he couldn't handle it. I haven't seen him since Ede and I told him about Isles."

"I know I should probably say 'I'm sorry' or something, but I'm not," I spit out bitterly. "I think you're better off here, with people who accept and understand you."

Roman nods once. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I just wish he didn't make me feel like it was a mistake, you know? I don't regret that night with Eden, even though I'm not in love with her. I don't regret having Isla. She's...for a long time, she was the only good thing I had in my life. She's still the best thing to ever happen to me."

I smile. "You love her a lot. I can tell."

        "I love them both," he whispers, smiling softly. "They're my family."

        I stand on my toes and wrap my arms around him, thinking that if anyone deserved a family as good as this one, it was him.

¥

        I brush my teeth quickly, staring at my reflection in the porcelain mirror in front of me. Roman was already in bed—his room was tucked in the furthest corner of the house—and my head was spinning. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the prospect of Roman's bare chest waiting for me just behind the bathroom door. I didn't know.

        I had this strange feeling in my chest like I was floating on air, like I couldn't breathe but also like I couldn't take any more oxygen in my lungs. The rush burns through my veins over and over and I spit out the toothpaste abruptly.

"Roman cares about you. And you care about him. Couldn't be any more simple than that, no?"

Maybe it was simple. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could love him, or at least try to. Maybe I didn't have to feel shitty for the rest of my life. Maybe I could be happy.

"B?" Roman calls out. I'd been in the bathroom for too long.

"Just a sec!" I call out, quickly cleaning my lips of any residual toothpaste. I go to fix my hair before realizing there was no hair to fix. A soft chuckle leaves my mouth and I pull open the door, leaning against its frame as seductively as I can whilst dressed in Roman's old t-shirt and baggy sweats.

He's sitting up in bed, pectorals on full display, and he's staring at me. A laugh wracks his body and then he's wiping away tears. "And what are you supposed to be?" he asks teasingly, grinning.

I rush forward and hop into the bed beside him, leaning against the headboard next to him. I blow out a sigh. "So," Roman starts, and I glance at him. "About that crazy sex—"

I've already rolled over and pressed my body against his, straddling him. My lips come to meet his unceremoniously, moving with their own will. Roman bucks his hips up to meet mine and a throaty moan leaves my mouth. His hands rest on my lower back and I grab them, lowering them until they cupped my butt through my sweats. Roman laughs against my lips and kisses me harder.

       "You'll talk me through it?" I breathe out against his lips. I pull back and can tell it takes Roman just a moment to understand.

       His eyes widen and he nods a few times. When he speaks, his voice is breathless. "Yeah, 'course," he pants out. I like that I can make him feel this way without even touching him yet. "Are you sure, though?"

I grin widely, bringing my lips down to his quickly. "Do I seem sure?"

He laughs again. "You do," he admits. "But I want to ask all the same."

"Yes," I whisper. For good measure, I lift my hips off of the bed and press my lips against every part of his neck. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." Roman chuckles huskily and I place one more kiss on his neck. "Did I make that clear? Yes."

        Roman grins, bringing his finger to caress my cheek. "You're so beautiful," he whispers.

       "There's not even a word for what you are," I breathe out slowly, watching the grin that spreads across his face.

        We make out for a little longer before Roman stands up, bringing back lube and a few condoms. I swallow hard as he sits back down on the bed, staring at everything. "Are you sure? I'll probably be awful at it. You might not even finish. That'll make me feel like shit because I always make you—"

        "Braylen," Roman interrupts. "I'm here with you. That is all that matters."

        "All that matters," I repeat. "Okay."

I take a deep breath, calling back some of the confidence I'd seemed to have lost in the past ten minutes. It doesn't take me long to get all of my clothes off, especially with Roman's assistance, and he's quick to follow. My hands wrap around him and I watch as his chest lifts up and down, cool air blowing from his lips.

My own lips aren't idle, either. I kiss every inch of his chest, leaving small little patches of red that would probably turn into bruises in a moment. My hand speeds up almost instinctively; I wanted to make sure he felt good. That was all I really wanted, actually. Roman curses lowly as my hand works and then his back is arching and his nails are gripping into my back. He finishes in my hand, his eyes on me the entire time, and my cheeks heat up.

I let out a soft sigh and Roman's large hand cups the side of my face. I lean into the touch, which seems to surprise him a bit, but he doesn't comment on it. "You okay?"

"Nervous," I admit with a small smile.

        "I can prep myself," he remarks, unabashedly, like always. It would infuriate me if I weren't so turned on.

        I shake my head. "No, I want to do it."

        Roman smiles softly at me. "All right," he agrees, handing me the bottle. After talking me through the motions, he allows me to ease my fingers into him. I glance up at his face immediately, sure I'd done something wrong, sure I'd hurt him. His head was thrown back. In pleasure or pain?

        "God," he moans out, bringing a hand to his face.

        Pleasure it is, then.

        I sink another finger in, relishing in every sound he makes, every breath that rises in his chest and comes out of his mouth. I was beyond hard and remove my fingers so I could roll on a condom. "Shit, Braylen," he breathes out, eyes rolling back. "Please."

        Roman's hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer and closer to him until my body was pressed against his. "Please," he repeats. Reading the apprehension on my face, he squeezes my hip. "Don't freak out."

        I gnaw on my bottom lip, knowing there's no use in denying it. "Rome, I can't not freak out."

        "What did I just say?" he mutters, a teasing sound to his voice. "You won't hurt me, okay? I know you won't. I trust you."

        I stare at him, and some part of me wants to ask if that's all. I knew he trusted me. I knew he wanted me. Was that it? Could it be possible, would it ever be a possibility, that he loved me? I didn't know.

        I blink back my thoughts and sink into Roman, a harsh gasp leaving both of our lips at the same time. The serendipitous harmony of our voices has my eyes squeezing tightly in pleasure. "No," Roman breathes out, squeezing my hip again. "No, look at me."

         I open my eyes. I look at his swollen lips, his red face, the drops of sweat glistening across his perfect skin. I see his tattoos and his lip piercing, his bare chest, and everything else, and I am enamored. I am his.

         "Christ, Roman," I groan out, slowly rocking my hips against him. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open but it didn't go without reward. Watching his eyes roll back with each thrust was enough incentive for me to keep watching.

His mouth hangs open, profanities and whimpers spill out of his lips, matching my own. I thought to be under him was heavenly, but this was something else entirely. The feeling of his hands on my hips, long fingers digging into my pelvis as we move with one another—I was sure I'd become addicted to it. If he let me.

"So beautiful," he moans, hand coming to my jaw, caressing the skin so tenderly that my hard, sloppy thrusts feel out of place.

        We both finish quickly, our eyes trained on one another, but I'm quick to grab a second condom and go again. By the time I feel ready to pass out and Roman's eyes are squinting shut, I've lost count of how many times we've had sex.

In the end, our legs are wrapped together and he's holding me. "You never told me it felt like that," I breathe out. "I can't catch my breath."

Roman laughs loudly. I can feel it vibrate against my cheek. "It was good for me too. If you couldn't tell."

"I could tell," I mutter, chuckling softly. "Roman?"

"Hmm?" he hums, rubbing circles along my bottom.

I want to say it. I want him to know because he has to. Because I can't tell Robyn or Devin or Hunter or my family. I suppose I could talk to Hayley, but I didn't want to. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to tell him everything. How he makes me feel alive again, like I'd been buried and forgotten but he sees me and he remembers. He digs me up and he wipes away the dirt and gets me clean and thinks I'm beautiful either way. He thinks I'm good either way.

"I'm tired," I whisper instead, blinking back tears. I was tired. Tired of holding back, tired of trying to heal, tired of wanting everything and letting myself have nothing.

"Go to sleep," he whispers back. "I'll be here when you wake up."

I shut my eyes, trying to fall asleep to that promise. But my brain can't help but think about the fact that August was fast approaching. There would come a day soon when he wouldn't be there.

What was I to do then?