8
“‘He’s not the Messiah; he’s a very naughty boy!’ Best. Line. Ever!”
Romeo chuckled at my impression as he finished off the rest of the popcorn.
I snatched the bowl from his hands and gaped. “You’re meant to be an athlete! Isn’t that an overload of starchy-carby-crappiness for you or something? You’ve polished it all off, you greedy bugger!”
He waggled his brows, flexing his muscled arms. “I’m a f**kin’ machine, Shakespeare. Popcorn’s no match for me!”
I held up my hands, palms forward. “Sorry, I forgot I was talking to the Bullet!”
Romeo’s hands shot out, grabbing my wrists, and he threatened, “Don’t,” with a harsh tone.
I didn’t stop, assuming he was joking, and shuffled closer to his laid out body. “Allaaabbbaaammmmaaa!!! Get to your feet for your hometown quarterback, Romeo… ‘Bullet’… Prince!” I mimicked the roar of the crowd and began to sing his personal Jumbotron stat song. “There’s a bullet in the gun. There’s a fire in your heart. You will move all mountains that stand in your path…”
He jerked me forwards and I landed against his torso with a smack, my nose almost flush against his. “Quit it, Shakespeare. Fuck!”
I frowned at his mood, wrenching my wrists from his grip, sitting back. “I’m only kidding. You don’t have to be so bloody grumpy with me.”
Rome’s sudden troubled gaze turned to stare out of the window. “I know, sorry, but I f**kin’ hate all that shit. You don’t know how much. I don’t wanna be the Bullet to you. You’re the first person to ever not be affected by all the football fame.” He looked back at me once again, cupping my cheeks. “To you… I just want to be Rome.”
My stomach flipped and I leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m not affected by the football fame, not at all, but I can’t deny that it really was something watching you out there today. Don’t you get nervous in front of all those people?”
“Nah. Used to it now. This is my fourth year with the Tide. However, this has been the worst season so far, by a yard. Well, up until today that is.”
The sounds of smashing bottles from outside echoed around the room, and I shuffled to his side, laying my head on his chest, loving how it was between us… right… easy. Rome happily picked up a piece of my hair and wound it around his finger, only to let go and do it again.
“So, MVP?” I asked quietly after a few minutes, enjoying the little tranquil oasis we’d created in my purple and white room.
“Yeah. Crazy considerin’ I couldn’t hit a truck for the first half.” His gaze flickered to mine and down again. He seemed nervous. “The fans and team are pumped, sayin’ it’s because of you. That you’re my good luck charm, all from that one sweet kiss.”
I froze and my breathing stopped, the trigger hitting me hard. I could feel my heart stop, and pins and needles devoured my arm. My hand slapped to my chest and I rubbed it against my sternum, willing the sensation to go, to just disappear. I focused on my breathing and remembered Grandma’s advice, Breathe in for five through your nose and slowly out through your mouth.
Alarmed, Rome lifted his head, his face stricken with worry. “What? What’s wrong? What did I say?”
He reached for my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again the threat of an anxiety attack seemed to pass at his touch.
Rome smoothed back my hair from my sticky forehead. “What is it, Mol? Tell me.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just something that my Grandma used to say to me. It took me back to those days. I panicked. I-I just… I was just surprised when you said it. Of all the ways to say what you did, you quoted her word for word.”
His hand remained in my hair, kneading the back of my neck. “What did she say to you? What did I say?”
“That I had sweet kisses.” I smiled weakly at the bittersweet memory. “Grandma would say that one sweet kiss from me would make any problem just that little bit easier.”
An endearing smile flitted across Romeo’s face. “I believe she might be right. She must have been a wise woman because that’s exactly what you did for me tonight at the game.”
Tears filled my eyes as I thought of the woman who raised me, the missing part of my heart. “She was. She was everything to me. We used to say we were a matching set. When she died, she took half of my soul with her. I don’t like to think of my past too much… It kills me to remember all that I’ve lost.”