Sweet Rome

* * *

And after much more persuasion and a couple of hours buried deep in her soft depths, we’d accepted the invitation and right now, in this truck, all I could think was that I’d completely f**ked up.

I hadn’t realized how long I’d been sat in my truck, just staring out of the window, when the sorority house’s main door opened and out walked Molly, immediately stealing my damn breath.

Opening the truck door, I got out and when she was a few steps away, reached out and pulled her into my arms. “Baby…” I croaked, my anxiety showing in my voice.

Wrapping her arms around my waist, she gripped onto me tight. “Hey, Rome. You okay?”

Pulling back, I pressed my lips to hers and nodded, “Yeah, no, maybe. I don’t know…”

Scrunching up her nose playfully, she tilted her head, asking, “Mm? You look kind of uncomfortable. Then again, I’ve never seen you in anything other than a T-shirt, jeans, and those damn cowboy boots you never take off, unless it’s to put on your cleats. Is it the fact you’re all suited and booted in your Sunday best that has you scowling and sitting outside my sorority like a creepy stalker?”

Unable to hold in a laugh, I put my arm around her shoulders and led her to the truck. “Get in, sexy, before I shut that mouth of yours for you.” Lifting her into the high cabin, I couldn’t resist skirting my hand up her bare leg and running my fingers along her panty-covered folds. Yelping at the touch, she scowled at me as she belted up.

God, I loved this girl so damn much. As I stared at her, I felt the familiar sense of dread that had been plaguing me since I’d accepted this bastard invitation. I couldn’t lose her. I was non-negotiable on that, and no matter what my folks were up to, they would have to learn that too.

Jumping into the driver’s seat and pulling out onto the road, I looked over at Mol, who was fiddling with radio, head nodding along to Blake Shelton telling the world they could kiss his country ass, singing every line, her out-of-place English accent sounding completely wrong against his southern Oklahoma drawl. Snorting through my nose, I shook my head, earning a scowl from the wannabe Dolly Parton beside me.

“What?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. You just look all beautiful tonight and I’m having a real hard time focusing on the road.” It was true, maybe not what I was thinking right then, but she wouldn’t appreciate me ripping on her for her terrible singing.

She ran her hands down her dress, no longer singing, and began worrying her lip. “It’s so not me. Ally dressed me up like a bloody Barbie doll in all this designer stuff to make me look appropriate for your fancy parents—I look like I’m trying too hard. They’ll see right through me.” She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I guess I’m just worried they’ll hate me.” Flicking her eyes up at me nervously, she added, “Well, hate me more than they already do.”

That sentence alone just sliced through my heart. It was so friggin’ clear she didn’t want to go tonight, and it became more than apparent she was doing all this for me, sacrificing her pride for me.

I’d never felt more like a selfish ass.

For the next fifteen minutes, we didn’t speak.

I couldn’t.

Sensing my strange turn in mood, Mol scooted over to me, pressing in close, her leg hitching over mine. A wave of protectiveness took hold and I instructed, “I want you to listen to me, okay?” We needed to be prepared, make a plan in case this so-called “olive branch” was a huge load of crap.

Sitting up, those golden-brown eyes looked at me intently.

“They will probably pick on anything they can tonight, viciously. Whatever they say, don’t let it get to you. I’ll protect you. If you need to leave at any time, for whatever reason, we go—no ifs or buts. But promise me you won’t let them hurt you.”

Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I promise.”

Gripping her thigh, using the skin-on-skin contact to gain strength, I said, “Then why do I have a feeling I’m about to lose you?”

Without missing a beat, my girl made me pull over, and no sooner than I had parked on the graveled hard shoulder, she straddled my lap, saying sternly, “You will not lose me.”

I wanted to believe her so bad. But if this was all a setup, if my parents somehow got to her, she’d bail on me the first chance she got. Why would she stick around? Panic swelled at that thought.

Looking her dead in the eyes, I tried to tell her how much I loved her, but the anxiety was making me lose all sense. “I can’t, Mol. You mean so much to me. Do you know that? Do you realize how I feel about you? How much I need you? Because I do. I know I don’t say much about my feelings, but… but… I… I…” I love you. I f**king love you… But the words wouldn’t come, stuck in my throat, along with intense fear.