Chapter 83 A promise

Chapter 83 A promise

"Ruby...." 

"Don't bother calling me."

She walked out the door, into the night, and didn't look back.

I stood in the empty hallway, my costume still rustling around my ankles, and felt the tears start to fall.

Romeo's car was waiting in the parking lot. Ruby was right. 

The engine was running, the lights off, his silhouette barely visible through the tinted windows. I walked toward him slowly, my heels clicking on the asphalt, my dress trailing behind me.

The passenger door opened.

I climbed inside.

He didn't say anything. Just looked at me, at the costume, the makeup, the flowers still woven through my hair. His eyes were dark, soft, full of things he couldn't say.

"You were magnificent," he said finally.

"Thank you. Ruby left."

"I know. I saw her give my car the fuck you sign." 

"She's angry at me. At us."

"I know."

"She said I always choose you."

Romeo reached across the console and took my hand. His fingers were warm, familiar, grounding.

"Is it true?" he asked.

I looked at him and felt weak in the knees. I really couldn't resist him. 

"Yes," I said. "It's true."

He kissed me then, soft, tender, full of all the words we couldn't say out loud. I kissed him back, and for a moment, the world outside the car ceased to exist.

"Please take me home," I whispered.

He put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

\-——————————————-

The annex was dark when we got inside. Sarah had left but dropped off some dinner inside the annex. 

Romeo locked the door behind us, three deadbolts, plus the chain, plus the bar. I stood in the middle of the room, still in my costume, the train pooling around my feet like water.

"Let me help you," he said.

He turned me around and began unfastening the buttons. His fingers were slow, careful, reverent. Each button revealed a new inch of skin, my shoulders, my spine, the small of my back.

The dress fell to the floor.

I stepped out of it, wearing only the thin slip beneath.

Romeo pulled a bottle of wine from his jacket, a dark glass, no label, the kind of thing that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

"For your debut," he said, twisting off the cap. "To celebrate."

"I don't really drink."

"Same." He handed me the bottle. "But tonight, I want to remember every second."

I took a sip. The wine was sweet, sharp, warming as it went down. Romeo drank after me, his lips on the same spot mine had been, and I felt a shiver run through me.

"I missed you so much," he said.

"I missed you too."

"I hated every second of it. Every time she touched me, every time I had to pretend..." 

"I know. I could see your face. But you still let her touch you."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you. Every night. I wanted to climb through your window and hold you and never let go."

"Then why didn't you?"

He set the bottle on the nightstand and stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of him through his shirt.

"Because if I saw you, if I touched you, I wouldn't have been able to leave." His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. "And if I didn't leave, they would have known. Someone would have found us." 

"Romeo..." 

"I can't lose you, Calliope. I can't." His voice cracked. "So I stayed away. I let her touch me. I let her hang on me. I let everyone believe that she was the one I wanted."

"But she's not."

"No." He kissed me, hard, desperate, hungry. "She's not. She'll never be. There's only you. There's only ever been you."

I pulled him closer, my hands fisting in his shirt, and he lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he carried me to the bed, laying me down gently, his body covering mine.

"We really shouldn't..." I started.

"I know."

"Mrs Vanderbilt..." 

"She's asleep. The twins are asleep. The whole house is asleep."

"Romeo..." 

He kissed me again, cutting off my words, and I stopped arguing.

\---

The wine was forgotten.

His clothes joined mine on the floor, shirt, jeans, the hoodie he'd worn to hide his face in the auditorium. I traced the scars on his chest, the muscles of his shoulders, the sharp line of his jaw.

He touched me like he was memorizing me, every curve, every hollow, every place that made me gasp. His hands were reverent, desperate, hungry.

"I'm not going to be gentle tonight," he said, his forehead pressed to mine.

"Good."

"I've been pretending for days. Pretending I don't want you. Pretending I don't need you. Pretending that her hands on my skin don't make me want to crawl out of my body. But I just miss you so fucking much. I can't hold back."

"Romeo..."

"Tonight, I don't want to pretend." His eyes were dark, blazing. "Tonight, I want to feel. I want to feel you."

I pulled him down and kissed him.

\---

We made love like we were trying to erase the days apart.

His hands were everywhere. His mouth was everywhere. He whispered my name like a prayer, and I whispered his, and the world outside the annex, the spies, the pack, the uncle, the boy in the hospital, faded into nothing.

When it was over, we lay tangled together, sweaty and breathless, the sheets twisted around us.

"I'm not going to let her touch me anymore. I promise," he said.

"Romeo..."

"I'll figure something else out. Another way to throw them off." He pulled me closer, his face buried in my hair. "But I can't... I can't keep pretending that I don't want you. I can't keep letting her put her hands on me when all I want is you."

I pressed my face to his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"We'll figure it out," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Together."

He kissed the top of my head.

"Together," he said.