Chapter 85 85

Chapter 85 85
Roman's POV

I eased into my car and slammed the door shut. I threw my keys onto the passenger seat and sank back into the leather, taking huge, jagged breaths of the stale air inside the cabin. My hands were shaking against the steering wheel.

God, was I losing my mind! I couldn't go back to my apartment like this. The image of the Benningtons' smirking faces and my mother's bitter, disappointed glare was burned into my mind, making the skin on the back of my neck feel hot and tight.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed my phone, and hit Harmony's name before I could second-guess myself.

The line didn't even ring twice before her calming voice filled the quiet car. "Roman? Aren't you supposed to be at a dinner with your mom right now?"

"I left," I said simply. I rubbed a hand over my face, leaning my head back against the headrest. "Like I said, it was a complete disaster. Look, are you busy? Can we hang out right now?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, then the faint sound of her turning a page in a textbook. "I'm just reviewing clinical notes. Is everything okay?"

"No," I admitted bluntly. "I need to get out of my own head. Let's go to that old midnight donut shop down on 26th Street. I'll come and pick you up from your building in ten minutes."

"Okay," Harmony replied. "I'll be downstairs. Drive safe, please."

"Thanks. See you in ten."

I turned the car on immediately the call ended, peeling away from the estate. True to her word, Harmony was standing on the curb when I pulled up, wearing an oversized sweater and nothing underneath but a pair of worn-out sneakers. We grabbed a box of hot, greasy glazed donuts and drove up to the top level of the old abandoned parking garage near the rail yard. It was a spot Miles and I used to hide out at during freshman year when we didn't want to go to class.

Once we got there, we sat on the hood of my car, our shoulders brushing against each other in the November air. We quietly ate our donuts and watched the distant cargo trains slow-crawl across the tracks below us.

The simple absurdity of sitting outside at nine o'clock on a Tuesday night, eating cheap sugar with our fingers, instantly cured my bad mood. The heavy weight in my chest simply evaporated. Harmony and I had undeniably grown closer since our kiss on Saturday night, but as she sat there, her hands tucked into her sleeves between bites, I could still tell she had some walls up. She was here, trying her best to comfort me, but she kept her posture guarded, like she was careful not to let herself drop too far.

"Alright, let's hear it," Harmony said, wiping a speck of sugar from her lip. "How bad was it?"

"Worse than bad," I groaned, shaking my head as I stared down at my sneakers. I told her about the disastrous dinner, detailing the Benningtons' pretentious bragging and Mr. Bennington's out-of-line comments about my hockey career and my knee injury. But I made sure to leave out the part where I had agreed to the dinner as an exchange for borrowing the two thousand dollars from my mother to pay off her brother Benji. She didn't need that burden on her shoulders.

"The guy practically called me a terrible hockey player right to my face. And then they started comparing me to Aaron, saying how he never would have gotten his knee hurt because he actually had talent. My mom just sat there and nodded along, as if I was the biggest disappointment in the city."

Harmony let out a soft snort, shaking her head as she leaned back on her hands. "Wow. They sound like a charming bunch of sociopaths. You should have told Mr. Bennington that if he likes Aaron's playing style so much, he can try going to where Aaron is for some private lessons."

"Wow, Sinclair, that's dark!" I commented, and she chuckled.

"Just don't let a bunch of snobs who have probably never broken a sweat in their lives make you feel like you're second best." She advised.

"Thanks, Firecracker," I muttered, the last lingering trace of anger leaving my body.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the distant whistle of a train echoing through the empty lot. And on a sudden impulse, looking at the way the cool wind caught the dark red strands of her hair, I decided to take a leap.

"Hey, Thanksgiving is next week, you know." I began. "Do you have any plans?"

"Nope. I usually spend Thanksgiving and Christmas alone." She sighed and leaned backwards against the windshield of the car. Her hoodie rode up as she did so, exposing even more bare thighs and a sliver of what looked like jean shorts.

"That's sad." I noted. "But Miles' mother is hosting at their family house down in Springfield. He told me to invite you. Do you... maybe... want to come with me?"

I held my breath expectantly. Harmony looked up, her dark eyes wide with mild surprise. She stayed still for a second as if processing the offer, before an eager nod came. "Actually, yeah. I'd love to get out of the city for a couple of days. Miles already asked Quinn too, about a day ago. She looked like she didn't want to go, but if I'm going, I can probably convince her to come along so we can turn it into a group trip."

"That's perfect," I said, a wave of relief washing over me. "The more the merrier. Miles' mother lives pretty far out, and she loves hosting a massive crowd. She'll probably cook enough food to feed our entire defensive line anyway."

"I'll talk to Quinn tonight, then." She promised and gave me another one of those rare smiles.

The drive back to her apartment building went by too fast, I didn't want the night to end. When I finally pulled up to the curb and parked in front of the building, a pregnant silence filled the small cabin of the car.

Neither of us made a move toward the door handles. I stared straight ahead at the steering wheel, my heart beginning to thud against my ribs as I remembered the taste of her lips from Saturday night. I wanted nothing more than to reach across the console and pull her into my lap, but I didn't want to push her walls and make her retreat.

Harmony shifted in her seat, unbuckling her seatbelt with a weirdly loud click. She turned her body toward me, looking at my face with a calm, matter-of-fact expression.

"I will allow you to kiss me again," she said.

That was all the invitation I needed. Without waiting for any more from her, I swiftly reached across the center console, my large hand instantly finding the soft skin of her jawline, and pulled her forward. I kissed her deeply, my mouth dropping over hers with all the built-up hunger and frustration of the entire night.

The heat of her lips was electric, instantly obliterating the memory of the dinner and all the harsh words I heard tonight. Harmony let out a tiny, soft gasp against my mouth, her fingers coming up to grip the fabric of my black t-shirt as she leaned into the space between the seats.

Then I deepened the pressure. My thumb started to trace the line of her cheekbone, tasting the sweet remainder of the donuts and the peculiar scent that always followed her. It made me want to lock the doors and never let her leave the car.

But just as the heat was beginning to turn dangerous, she pulled back sharply, her breathing ragged and her cheeks flushed a deep, brilliant pink. Her dark eyes were wide, full of a sudden, guarded panic.

"Okay..." she sighed and took a quick, stabilizing breath. "Okay, that was..."

"Was it too much?" I asked sheepishly, and she half snorted, half chuckled.

"No, no. Goodnight, Roman," she whispered, her hand already reaching for the chrome door handle.

Before I could even find my voice to reply, she popped the door open and slipped out, the cool air rushing into the cabin as she hurried up the concrete steps and disappeared into the safety of the apartment building lobby.