Page 58 of Lease to Love

He shrugged. And then he refreshed my drink.

He remembered which one I'd been drinking.

He made sure I ate.

He told Miss Cheryl how proud he was of everything I was building with House of Autumn. He told Mr. Keegan I was the hardest-working person he'd ever met. When someone asked how we'd gotten together, he looked at me with a smile that should have been illegal and said he'd been trying to get my attention for years.

I almost kicked him.

Because the worst part was that he was good at this.

Really good.

The picture of the perfect boyfriend.

Warm. Attentive. Affectionate.

And I barely recognized him. Hell, I barely recognized myself.

Because somewhere between the second drink and the third conversation with somebody I hadn't seen in years, I stopped thinking about how fake this was.

I just enjoyed being here.

Enjoyed the music, the laughter, the familiar faces.

The feeling of being surrounded by people who knew me before I became somebody's landlord problem or Ayo's ex-girlfriend or the woman who couldn't make her rent on time.

I was just Summer.

Langston Park's Summer.

Two hours into the evening, I needed air.

Or space.

Or maybe just five damn minutes without feeling Roman's hand at my waist, confusing the hell out of me.

I slipped away during a lull in the cocktail hour and found myself near the bar, drink in hand, watching the room.

That's when I saw him.

Roman stood several yards away, talking to David McMillan. I knew him as Uncle Dave because everybody in Langston Park knew him as Uncle Dave. He owned a construction company that worked all over the DMV and had been a proud Langston Park resident longer than Roman had probably been alive.

I watched Roman laugh. Smile.

Not that shark-smile thing I'd imagined he used in business meetings. Not a smirk.

A real smile. Teeth and everything.

And goddamn, the smile changed his entire face.

He had dimples.

I didn’t know Roman Sterling had dimples.

I was still staring at his mouth when his eyes suddenly lifted… Straight to mine, like he'd felt me looking.

There were the butterflies again.