Page 88 of From Rome, With Hate

Lark: Left dinner early. Where are you?

I rock back on my heels before righting myself and type out a reply.

Me: Kiernan’s.

Dropping my phone back into my pocket, I gather the strength to lift my head and look up. Evidently, I’m not in the living room anymore. I’m in a dark hallway, the music coming from the main party area vibrating through my feet. Blue and white lights dance across the walls, and I sway, catching myself before falling over.

I slap the wall, and emerging from the other end of the hallway is a woman with dark brown hair and eyes shimmering in the dark.

“Lark,” I mutter, fighting to keep my eyes open. “I’m so sorry.”

“Rome?” the woman shouts, her voice loud and not at all comforting.

I force my eyes open wider, and it finally hits me who it is. “Macy.” I deadpan. “I thought you were someone else.”

“That’s okay.” She perks up, her tight ponytail bobbing back and forth as she tilts her head. She closes the gap between us, and my back hits the wall.

Her body presses against mine, and I try to lift my heavy hands to push her off, but it’s no use.

She must stand on her toes because she brings her mouth close to mine. Close enough for me to hear her clearer than anyone else I’ve run into since being here.

“I can be someone else for you,” she purrs. “If that’s what you want.” Her mouth is dangerously close to mine, and my world is spinning.

What the fuck?

Everything in me is screaming to push her away. The sickness brewing in me bubbles over. I want to vomit.

"Macy,” I mumble. “I’m marri?—”

Shit, the beer has done absolutely nothing for my dry mouth. My tongue feels like its ten times its normal size.

“You’re what, Montgomery?” She doesn’t offer me the opportunity to answer before she’s touching me. One hand is on my torso while the other slides teasingly up the length of my thigh.

Pressing my lips into a tight line, I slam my head back against the wall and huff a heated breath through my nose. Every move feels like exhausting work.

People pass us without offering a second glance.

Macy doesn’t give two fucks that we aren’t alone.

With a racing heart, I fight my body’s unwillingness to move, and the reaction she’s trying to painfully pull out of me.

Macy pins me to the wall with her body, and the familiar scent of her perfume consumes me. It’s sharp and pungent.

Nothing like Julianna.

“Macy.” I lift my hands to her shoulders, hoping my body will finally start working properly. “We can’t.”

“I’ve missed you, Rome,” she coos, ignoring me. “Kiss me. Fuck me.”

Lifting her chin, she tries to press her lips to mine, but my hands are on her shoulders, doing their best to push her away. I’m weak. So fucking weak.

Macy’s mouth ghosts mine and then I hear, “Rome?”

I roll my head against the wall, turning away from Macy’s mouth, and my name comes from the end of the hallway again, only louder and stronger this time.

“Rome!”

A familiar silhouette stands at the end of the hallway. Dark brown hair and shining blue eyes. They’re slanted in anger and hurt as they dart back and forth between Macy and me.