Page 120 of Watched

I was hopeful that Smith might show up, since I left the cameras on to announce our arrival, but he didn’t. Blade then grumbled for the entirety of the body disposal. I apparently spoiled his fun. We unwrapped Ryan’s body from the plastic sheet and left him laying against a dumpster for the police to find. When Smith receives word of his dead accomplice, the message will be clear.

He’s next.

“Have you ever been to therapy? About what happened to you?” Rome asks softly.

He’s so fucking caring it melts my heart. “Yeah, baby. I went every week for a year. The dreams weren’t as frequent for a long time, but the last year, they’ve come back.”

His lips thin. “If you want to go again, I’ll come with you. I just…I don’t really know what to do to help you.”

“I’ll let you know if I need to. Unless this is you indirectly telling me you want me to?”

“I guess it is…yeah. I also have my own issues I should probably talk about.”

“Then we’ll go.”

His brows burrow. “You’ll go to therapy just because I asked you to?”

“Of course I will.”

His adorable curls scuff against the pillow with a sheepish nod.

I thought this fuckery with Smith would be long put to rest by now, but he’s hiding himself well. No sites on the dark web hint at his presence, and he’s been avoiding every internet forum. I would be a fool to let my guard down at any point before I witness him bleed out with my own two eyes. He’s on a vengeful hunt for yours truly. I put him in prison for five years, and his reputation was decimated through that trial. His life has no other purpose than seeking revenge. While I’m flattered by his obsession with me, this situation has become an ever-growing headache.

I gently push Rome onto his back, my chest releasing its pent-up tension as I slide my arm under his neck and the other over his arm to rest on his stomach. He inhales a sharp breath as I slide my knee over his thigh to get comfortable.

This. This is how I want to spend every night for the rest of my life.

My heart drums when he turns his head, and I capture his lips in a slow kiss. Everything disappears with the caresses of his tongue against mine, the sudden relief drawing a deep groan from my chest.

He pulls back with a taunting smile. “We aren’t fucking.”

“I didn’t ask to fuck.”

“Don’t be a prick.”

“I thought you enjoyed my prick-like personality.”

“Tolerate,” he counters, turning his head back to stare at the high ceiling.

Positioning my mouth against his ear, I watch in awe as his lids close and he smiles softly. “Why do you like it? My mouth against your ear, I mean.”

The crackling wood fills the silence. I’d texted Xander and had him come over and light the fire when we landed in London. I extended an olive branch and offered for him to come to Manchester with us, but he declined, stating he only attends Rome’s home games and sits in the back of the crowd so no one can draw a connection between them.

“I guess I like knowing you’re right there,” Rome confesses before promptly scoffing, “Don’t let that go to your head.”

“Already has, baby. Already has.”

He’s still apprehensive towards me and this entire situation, and rightfully so, but I will fight until my last breath to earn his trust again, to prove I’m worthy of even a fraction of his attention.

Him ordering that man to not touch me is the conformation I needed that his feelings—albeit shattered—are reparable.

Chapter forty-nine

RAIN

Adjusting my black coat, I step out of the elevator.

“Mr Weston!” Faith, the front secretary calls as I pass her desk and continue past the glass wall of offices to my right. “Mr Weston! He’s in a meeting!”