“I don’t usually either.” Maybe some guys wouldn’t admit that, but I didn’t care. Foolish pride served no purpose. I wanted total honesty with Juliet.

  Her mouth twisted in a yeah right smile. I leaned down and kissed her, then whispered in her ear, “I think I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I wasn’t deliberately trying to come up with lines to get in her jeans. Around her, my mouth seemed to open and whatever was in my head or heart poured out.

  Her disbelieving smile softened, but something painful flashed in her eyes. A memory maybe. Whatever it was had nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t push her now, but I wanted to know what bothered her so I could fix it.

  She glanced at her chest, cupped her tits and adjusted herself. The sexy shimmy and jiggle didn’t do a damn thing to calm the erection she’d given me.

  To keep myself from grabbing her again, I scooped her jacket and my shirt off the ground.

  When we were finally dressed, I led her out of the trees and back onto the path toward her house.

  “I’m sorry. Do you get in trouble if you’re late?” she asked.

  I captured her hand and tugged her closer while we walked.

  “Yeah, I can get in trouble,” I admitted. “It’s like being in prison. Except, they give us just enough freedom to know we’re not really free.”

  “Roman.”

  The sadness in her voice stopped me. I turned and faced her, distressed to see tears shining in her eyes.

  “It’s okay, Juliet,” I tried to reassure her. “It’s only temporary. I just need to make it through this phase in my life to get to the next one.”

  “You’re so brave. And clever.”

  I wasn’t worthy of being called either of those things, but her mouth tipped from sad to happy, so I didn’t argue.

  “What happens if you get in trouble?” The note of fear in her voice proved she was the clever one in this relationship.

  I blew out a breath. “Anything from getting demoted to level one, which means round-the-clock supervision, to being removed and sent to a stricter home.”

  “You’ve already moved around a lot, right?”

  “Yup. They prefer to ambush you at night when you’re not expecting it.” I tried to keep my tone light and teasing, but my stomach churned with so many memories of being dragged out of bed and given fifteen minutes to shove my shit in a garbage bag. I didn’t share those depressing flashbacks. She seemed to have enough of her own sadness, no need to pile on my years of misery. I wanted to shield her from the bad in the world. Not alert her to even more depressing situations.

  “That’s awful.”

  I shrugged like I didn’t care, which after years of trying to convince myself, sometimes I actually believed. “It sucks, but whatever.”

  Her eyes searched my face as if my cool demeanor didn’t fool her. But she didn’t press me any further.

  “Do you have a roommate?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, he’s in middle school, though. I call him Pip. He’s a crazy-talented artist, but super shy.” Actually, poor Pip was probably wondering where I was, scared he’d have to fend off the bigger bullies in the house all by himself.

  Those fuckers should’ve known by now not to fuck with Pip, but I worried anyway.

  I tried to never get attached to anyone. Not that I was attached to Pip, but I felt responsible for him, and that bothered me. Eventually, I’d let him down.

  I was definitely getting attached to Juliet.

  Today, there was no one waiting in her driveway. I walked her to the back door and gave her a quick kiss before jogging away.

  For a brief moment, in the midst of the chaos that was my life, I’d found peace.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliet

  Days and weeks melted into one another. Roman and I were inseparable. We never had as much time together as we wanted but the moments we shared were intense.

  Half the time we ended up making out in the park, other times we stole a few moments in the photography lab. Mr. Broom seemed oblivious, which worked in our favor.

  Roman somehow had his gym class switched to mine. The days the boys and girls were grouped together were my favorite.

  Even if it was something idiotic like teaching us ballroom dancing. We lived in a poor, rural area. The likelihood of anyone in this class ever using ballroom dancing skills was pretty slim.

  It might have been a silly, frivolous thing to teach us, but I secretly loved the lessons. Especially the way Roman made it clear to every boy in our class that I was off-limits. And the step away stare he shot at every girl who approached him to be their dance partner.

  Yeah, his new-guy-with-the-violent-temper reputation commanded the interest of every single girl in our school. They seemed to be caught up in some fantasy of “fixing” the bad boy.

  Only I knew the truth. Roman wasn’t bad. He was angry—but he had plenty of valid reasons for that rage. He didn’t need fixing, he needed someone to see his goodness.

  I was happy to be that someone.

  “Lift your head, Juliet,” the teacher shouted. “Feel where he leads.”

  “I feel where you lead all the time,” I mumbled.

  Roman rumbled with laughter. I loved making him laugh and seemed to be the only person capable of teasing a genuine smile onto his oh-so-serious face. Occasionally, some wacky thing that came out of Vienna’s mouth would make him chuckle, and I loved those moments too.

  We truly understood each other. He laughed at my jokes, no matter how random they seemed. Roman was the first person who truly got my quirky sense of humor and appreciated it instead of thinking I was a weirdo.

  “Sometimes I’m not sure who leads who.” Roman winked and spun me around.

  That was ridiculous. I was so under his spell, it wasn’t funny. He pulled me in and I pressed myself against his chest for a brief moment—even though we were supposed to remain at arm’s length.

  Besides giving me an opportunity to publicly touch my boyfriend for a solid forty-five minutes without fear of getting in trouble, the dance lessons were great because we didn’t have to change into our dorky, inappropriately sized gym uniforms. Today, I’d worn a short, floaty chiffon dress Vienna had given me for Christmas. It was frilly, with layers that fanned out each time Roman spun me around, making me feel like a modern fairy-tale princess.

  Class finished and Roman gave me a quick peck on the lips before I dashed off to the locker room with Vienna. I didn’t need to change, but I did need to collect my backpack for our next class.

  “Girl, the way that boy looks at you,” Vienna sighed. “Gives me goosebumps.”

  “He’s kinda ew. Like doesn’t he live in a detention center or something?” One of my cattier classmates—Diane—said without looking at me.

  “You didn’t seem to think he was ew when you asked him to take you to prom,” I said sweetly. As if the whole school hadn’t been talking about the way Roman flatly turned her down.

  Vienna laughed and slammed her locker shut. “Don’t be such a bitter bitch, Diane, it’ll give you wrinkles.”

  More nastiness came out of Diane, but I’d stopped caring about what my shallow classmates thought of me a long time ago.

  I grabbed my stuff and hugged Vienna before taking off to meet up with Roman.

  Except he wasn’t in the hallway waiting for me like he normally was.

  A sick feeling settled in my stomach.

  Doug and his friends had been increasing the verbal attacks on Roman whenever they could get away with it. So far, Roman ignored the insults, but I didn’t doubt if one of them laid a hand on him, they might not get it back.

  Finally, he emerged from the gym, smiling when he saw me. A whoosh of relief passed my lips and I took his outstretched hand. “Were you waiting long?”

  “Is everything okay?” I blurted instead of answering his question.

  “Mr. Dawson wanted to talk to me about trying out for baseball.”

  “Isn’t it too late in the season?”

  He shrugged. “They’re down a player. I know zip about baseball, except that it looks boring as fuck.”

  “I hope you didn’t say that to him.” I snort-giggled and covered my mouth.

  “Nah, I just said I didn’t have time and I don’t think I could get permission from Pine Bluff.” He peered down at me. “Would you rather be dating a baseball player?”

  I almost laughed again. As if any other boy in this school could compare to Roman. Yet, I sensed a hint of seriousness in his voice and wanted to reassure him. “Only if it’s you.”

  “If I’m doing anything after school, it’s finding a job.”

  “I hear that,” I mumbled.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Maybe the ice cream shop connected to the drive-in theater for the summer? That could be fun.” Fun and keep me out of the house until late.

  “Fun huh?” He slipped his arm around my shoulders and I soaked up his warmth.

  The soft patter of Vienna’s heels over the tile was the only warning I had before she plowed into us from behind. “Ugh, Diane is such an uber bitch. You were smart to run.”

  Laughing, I shrugged her arm off my shoulder.

  Roman frowned. “She say something to you?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. I didn’t want Vienna to repeat Diane’s comments about Roman.

  “Maybe we can drown her on our class trip.” Vienna skipped ahead, raising her arms in the air. “Another tragedy at Fletcher Park, news at eleven.” Her eyes widened and she stopped dead in front of us. “Or we could push her over the cliff.” She mimed pushing someone and watching them fall. “Weeeeee, splat!”

  “You’re terrible,” I scoffed, stepping around her and linking hands with Roman again.

  “What class trip?” he asked.

  “Oh, you’ll be thrilled, lover boy,” Vienna sang, hurrying to catch up to us. “You’ll get to ogle your girl in a bikini all afternoon.”

  Roman raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  Laughing nervously, I pushed Vienna. “I’m so not wearing a two-piece in front of these cretins.”

  “Not even for me?” Roman teased.

  “Maybe. If you ask me nicely.”

  “Later!” Vienna waggled her fingers at us and took off running down the hall.

  Roman and I strolled into art class a few minutes before the bell and sat in our usual spots. Chloe and Jameson, another couple in our grade, sat across from us, eagerly discussing their prom plans. I shifted uncomfortably. I hadn’t brought up prom because I figured there was no way Roman could afford to go and I didn’t want to make him feel bad.

  Under the table, he found my hand and twined our fingers together. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Do you have a date for prom?”

  “What? No.” How could he ask me that?

  Then I looked into his laughing green eyes and knew he was only teasing. He winked but didn’t have a chance to add anything to our conversation. Mr. Broom started class.

  Naturally, Roman and I had worked on our photography projects together. He’d taken an embarrassingly large number of photos of me for his assignment.

  He also had a talent for capturing breathtaking landscapes and pretty much anything else he turned his lens on.

  After the introductory lecture, Roman leaned over. “How do you feel about sticking around after class?”

  A tingle of excitement zipped through me. “Sounds good. Are you allowed to?” I whispered back, making sure to keep my voice low. Enough rumors about Roman had been spread around the school without me adding to them.

  “I have special permission for this project,” he assured me.

  That Roman sought out permission from the counselors—when I knew how much he hated asking anyone for anything—just to spend time with me meant a lot.

  Mr. Broom seemed oblivious to why maybe two teenagers shouldn’t be left alone in a darkroom together without supervision, but yet, he did.

  Not just us either.

  Other kids used the space to get high. Roman and I had no interest in drugs.

  We were too high on each other.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Roman

  My photography project really did need to be finished, but it was impossible to concentrate around Juliet. Not in the sexy dress I’d been admiring since the moment I saw her this morning. It appeared to be see-through but wasn’t. Trust me, I’d been staring holes through it all day long.

  We focused on finishing her photos first, before moving to mine. That way if we ran out of time, she wouldn’t be late turning in her assignment. Of course I didn’t phrase it that way. Then she’d insist on me going first and I just wasn’t that kind of guy.

  She always came first.

  While we waited for the photos to develop, she perched on the counter, swinging her legs and lightly tapping the cabinets below with her heels.

  The project was to make something that scares you look beautiful. Working on the assignment together gave us a chance to learn more about each other. I’d discovered Juliet was terrified of bees. So we spent a couple afternoons in the park photographing honeybees as they buzzed from flower to flower.

  “This one’s too fuzzy,” she said, pointing to a half-processed picture hanging in front of her.

  “It’s too soon to tell.”

  “I think I understand why the world moved to digital photography,” she grumbled.

  “You’re cute.”

  She scrunched up her nose at me, only proving my point.

  I stepped in between her legs, resting my hands at a spot right above her knees, pushing her dress up to run my hands over her soft skin. Those amazing little legs of hers wrapped around me, pulling me closer.

  A shiver of pleasure raced down my spine as she slid her arms over my shoulders, threading her fingers through my hair and raking her nails over my scalp. I’d come to crave her touch. It felt so good to be touched and wanted. Even a look from her had the power to light a fire inside me I never knew existed.

  Our lips met. Juliet wasn’t shy about kissing me anymore. We kissed for hours some afternoons. Never going further than stroking our hands over each other. I was dying to do more. On those days, my body thrummed with the need to be inside her for hours after we’d said goodbye. No amount of shower jerk-off sessions cured the ache.

  I wanted to be surrounded by her warmth, swallowed whole by her desire. With Juliet I could shut off my brain for a few merciful minutes and be happy. I never pressured her to go further. Just like with kissing, I wanted to wait until she was ready. Until she came to me.

  I’d take it from there.

  That afternoon, I found it harder to restrain myself than usual. I blamed the damn dress. All day long I fantasized about sliding my hands up her legs, under the filmy material. I’d sat through all my classes but couldn’t remember a word of the teachers’ lectures.

  She licked her tongue against mine. My hands slid higher. I swear I almost came in my pants when my thumbs grazed her inner thighs and she ever so slightly spread her legs apart.

  Inviting me to do more?

  The tip of my thumb brushed against her hot center. No, that was her satin underwear. Her damp satin underwear.

  That was a good sign, right?

  Keeping one hand clamped around her thigh, I continued to brush my thumb along her seam, pressing harder with each pass. Exploring. Discovering. Her breath hitched and she moaned as I slowed at the top. I pressed harder over that spot and she squirmed.

  Christ, I needed another hand to touch her in all the ways I wanted. Her hard nipples poked against my chest and I so badly wanted to tease my fingers over the tips. But then I’d have to take my hand out from under her dress and release her thigh and I didn’t want to let go.

  I ground my finger into her harder, moving my thumb in slow circles. Her breathing sped up, sharp panting puffs of air against my cheek.

  She tore her mouth from mine. “Roman,” she whispered, harsh and urgent.

  Our foreheads touched. “Does that feel good? Do you like me touching you there?”

  “Y…yes,” she stuttered and squeezed her eyes shut.

  I was definitely on the cusp of something major. “Tell me what you need, Juliet.”

  “I…I don’t know.” Another low moan tore out of her throat and her hips jerked, pressing her warm, wet, satin-covered center into my hand.

  “Oh!” she gasped.

  I caught her louder moans with my kisses. My hand squeezed her ass, dragging her to the very edge of the counter. I pressed my hardness against her and she went off completely. Crying out too loud for me to silence with a few kisses. I clamped one hand over her mouth. The last thing we needed was someone busting in on us and ruining what was probably the high point of my life. She bucked and jerked her body against mine. Clothes in the way or not, the friction felt amazing.

  Oh, shit.

  Familiar white lightning shot down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to rein it in, but it was too late. We both came, panting, sweating, and whispering each other’s names.

  “Roman?” She cupped my face with her hands and dragged me down for a long, lingering kiss.

  So intoxicated with the moment, at first I didn’t realize what the sound coming from the door meant.

  “Hello?” Mr. Broom shouted, then knocked again.

  Our teacher’s voice snapped me into action. I flipped Juliet’s dress down, smoothing it over her legs before reaching over and unlocking the door. “Hey, Mr. Broom,” I greeted, trying to sound casual while ignoring the sticky mess in my shorts.

  “Oh! It’s you two. I wasn’t sure who was in here. How’s it going?” he asked without a hint of I-caught-you-in-the-act coloring his voice.

  Behind me, I heard the soft rustle of Juliet’s dress and click of her sandals as she slid off the counter to the floor. “I’m not so sure, Mr. Broom. I don’t think mine came out very well.”

  She sounded perfectly normal and calm. Was I the only one with a heart about to explode from my chest?