"OH, RIGHT THERE," I moan out loudly as Roman's hands work all over my body. My eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure and I couldn't seem to open them for the life of me. "God, that feels so good."

         He grunts once, clearly concentrated. "Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

         I let out a breathless moan. "Please. You cannot imagine how good that feels."

         The shrill sound of a cell phone ringing causes my eyes to snap open. Roman, who had been straddled around my back, climbs off of the bed and pads along his bedroom floor to look for the source of the sound.

         I frown at him, pointing a finger. "You didn't finish my massage, mister!"

         "Will you ever want me for more than my hands and fingers?" he muses quietly, looking through his meticulously clean room for the phone.

         "Ha!" I laugh, rolling out my shoulders that were substantially looser now after nearly thirty minutes of massaging from Roman. I did love his hands and fingers. I could not deny it. "That was kinda funny, Rome."

         He grumbles softly. "Where the hell is that phone?"

         I bite on my bottom lip before reaching into the back pocket of my jeans and pulling out the black device. Roman stands up straight, glaring at me. "Sorry. That's on me."

         The shrill sound still fills up the room. "Well, answer it!" he exclaims animatedly.

         I giggle before pressing accept call, bringing the phone up to my ears. "Hello?" I ask.

         "I am currently standing in your bedroom. Why are you not in it as well?"

         The breath leaves my body. "Who is this?"

         There's a loud sigh over the phone. "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps your little brother that you forgot all about! Who the hell else would it be? Couldn't you tell by my voice?"

         I slap a hand against my face. He was right. I had completely forgotten that Hiro was coming early for the wedding. I check the date. Was it really August already? "Okay, in my defense, I only just met you, like, a year ago. And your voice has dropped like seventeen octaves since then!"

         "Where are you?" Hiro presses.

         I look up at Roman who is staring back at me with a confused expression. "Yeah, that one might be a little hard to explain, Hiro."

         "Hiro?" Roman whispers softly, eyebrows raised.

        I place a hand over the phone to mute myself. "Yeah. My little brother."

        "Who are you talking to?" Hiro asks, voice rising in pitch. Hmm. Maybe puberty didn't hit him that hard after all.

        My eyes bulge. "How can you still hear me?"

        "Because this isn't the 18th century anymore. People don't cover up phones to hide the sound. They usually just press the damn mute button. Now put me on speaker," Hiro says.

         I shake my head, though he can't see me. "Nope. I can't do that. No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

         "You're the one that forgot about me. The least you can do is this one thing your little brother is asking you to."

         Roman raises an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"

        I frown. "He wants to talk to you."

Rome smiles an easygoing smile. "Great. Put him on speaker."

"Yeah, put me on speaker!"

I sigh. "No! Hiro, you don't even know who this is!"

"Hmm. Could it be the smoking hot Italian man that rides a motorcycle and goes by the name of Roman?" he asks, feigning innocence.

"How do you—"

"Bridget's words, not mine. Now put the dude on the phone. Please," he says, drawing out the word.

I curse softly to myself before removing the phone from my ear. Roman's brows raise in amusement as I angrily tap the speaker button, shoving the phone towards him. "Why, hello, there," Hiro says. "I'm Hiro. Care to explain why my brother is with you instead of me at the moment?"

Roman purses his lips. "Well, that's sort of a loaded question there, Hiro."

I wince. "Okay, you could've just asked me that question, Hiro!"

He shushes me. "I want the smoking hot Italian man to answer it."

"The smoking hot Italian ma—shit, why did I call him that?" I grumble. "Look, I left because I needed to get away for a little while. Roman's been letting me stay at his place."

Hiro gasps. "Is he gay?" he whispers, seemingly forgetting he's on speaker. His next question is for Roman directly. "Are you gay?"

"Something close to that, I suppose," Roman says with a laugh. "I'm pansexual."

"Cool," Hiro responds. "Are you having sex with my brother?"

        A harsh gasp leaves my mouth. "Oh my god, this is so weird! Why would you ask that?"

        "Yes, I am," Roman says with a smirk on his face. "Quite often, actually. At least five times a day."

         I glare up at him. "I'm gonna hurt you."

        Hiro laughs over the phone. "I'm gonna hurt you, too, idiot," I hiss, cheeks turning red with anger. He only laughs again.

         "Yeah, yeah," he calls out. "Just come home soon. Please."

        I bite on my bottom lip. "Okay. I will. Soon, I promise."

He sighs over the phone before there's a beep, signaling the end of the call. I toss my phone onto the bed and run a hand over my hair which was growing at a surprisingly fast rate. I wouldn't be surprised if it was practically the same length it'd been before by Oba's wedding two weeks from now.

Roman slides onto the bed next to me, kissing the skin of my waist. "I can finish that massage if you'd like," he murmurs, smirking at me as his lips trail up higher. He plants a kiss on my shoulder before bringing his hand to the nape of my neck. "You're upset."

"No," I retort, though that's not entirely true. "I should be there, right? I mean, leaving was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I don't even remember why I did it."

Roman's fingers caress my skin soothingly. "You were upset. You're allowed those feelings. You're allowed your space."

"You mean, your space," I argue before sighing again. "I don't know, I just. Sometimes I feel...everything. I feel everything all at once and I can't shut it off. I can't stop the thoughts and the thoughts become actions and then next thing I know my little brother is calling me because he has no clue where I am."

Roman blinks back at me. "Be honest," I murmur. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No," he emphasizes, kissing my shoulder again. I turn my head to him and his lips find mine. It's a gentle kiss, one that is romantic and soft and nowhere near what we were supposed to be to one another. "I don't think that."

"Sometimes, I do," I admit. "Sometimes I think I might be crazy."

        "You're not," he murmurs, kissing me again. "Stop saying that, okay?"

        "Okay." I smile softly and kiss him back. "And for the record, we don't have sex that often."

        Roman snorts. "Please, B. You're insatiable."

       "Not true!" I mutter, pursing my lips. "Okay, it's kind of true," I concede and Roman throws his head back in laughter, eyes squeezing shut.

And it's that moment right there. That moment when I realize that summer would be over in just fourteen days, that I'd be going back to school. Everything that happened this summer comes rushing back to me and at the center of it all is him. Him smoking a cigarette outside of the hospital with a relocated nose. Him and his fingers on me at the boxing gym. Him kissing me in Florida. Him and his paintings and his bed that we spent so many mornings wrapped up together in. Him smiling down at Isla, him laughing at me, him in the rain's downpour, him in the summer sun, him, him, him, him, and nobody else.

And what would happen at the end of this? Would he become someone I didn't talk to? Would he, who became my best friend this summer, be reduced to only a stranger? How long will I feel this way for him? How long will it take for these feelings to go away?

Did I even want them to?

Tell him. Tell him how you feel. Before it's over.

"Something wrong?" Roman asks. I realize I'd blacked out. His face was serious now, concerned. He was staring at me.

I shake my head, ready to lie again. Fourteen days. Tell him. Tell him now.

I breathe shakily. "Do you remember when you asked me about my dream from that night in Florida? I told you I saved you. I didn't tell you why."

"You do not have to," he whispers. "I shouldn't have asked about that dream. It was too personal. I'm sorry."

"That's the thing, though. Roman, everything about you and me is personal," I say. He begins talking again and I press a hand to his chest to stop him. I glance down at my fingers, feeling his heartbeat as it rattles against my palm. The heartbeat that I already had memorized. I swallow hard. "Since we met in that bar that night, you've known every little thing there is to know about me. And for so long I fought that. I fought that because I knew that if I didn't I'd want to know every little thing there is to know about you, too. I'm so fucking tired of fighting."

"What are you saying?" he whispers, voice fragile and strong at the exact same time. His heart thunders underneath me.

I take another breath. "Losing...losing him was unbearable. I don't think I'll ever be able to describe the pain and I don't know if I'll ever really be past it. And for a long time, I thought that I could never feel what I felt for him ever again. I thought that that part of me died, too. But seeing you on that bridge, even just in my nightmare, Roman, it paralyzed me. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe until I knew that you were okay. I think I understand it now. That part of me never died. How could it? It's been right here, with you."

Tears fill my eyes and I sniff loudly, gripping his shirt underneath my grasp. "I don't want to go. I don't want you to leave. I don't want to lose you in any sort of way. A-and I want this to be real. I mean, I know it's real. And I know that you know it, too. I'm sorry for wasting so much time. I'm sorry for not admitting that I...that I—"

Knock.

There are three more raps on the door. I furrow my brows. Since I'd been living here, Roman hadn't gotten any visitors. Who could that possibly be? And why did they choose now to visit?

Roman's eyes flash to mine. His face was just as confused and nearly as tear-stricken. "Someone's at the door," I mumble quietly, something inside me deflating.

Roman turns towards the door, looking torn. "Stay right here. I'll be back and you can finish what you were saying. Okay?"

I nod once and lose my breath as his lips touch mine. It's a quick kiss but it makes my head spin. By the time I've opened my eyes, he's gone.

I sigh softly and grab the shirt I'd taken off when Roman insisted on giving me a massage. I'm just pulling it over my head when I hear Roman's gasp. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hisses with more venom than I've ever heard him use in my life.

"Rome?" I call out, stepping outside of the room and rushing down the hallway. A tall, classically handsome man stands at the door. He had glasses and a cleft chin and hardened eyes.

"Now, now, now. Is that any way to speak to your father, boy?" he asks, and his smile is nothing but pure evil.

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um.