Free Cousins (Cousins #2) by Lisa Lang Blakeney Page B

Dad."
    "It has nothing to do with that juvenile prank. It's because I know things about that family that you don't know." My father's voice starts to rise. "And from what I've heard, Roman is very much like his father. They're dangerous people, Elizabeth, and they don't follow rules. They make their own. Those types of people are always dangerous. Family or not."
    "They've been nothing but good to me, Dad."
    "If I front you six months worth of rent for a new apartment would you move?"
    Does he know that I'm sleeping with my “dangerous” cousin or am I just paranoid right now?
    "Dad, I'm not going to take your money. Let me figure this thing out on my own. Let me be an adult."
    My father sighs in defeat. There's no disputing the whole let me be responsible argument. I've won this round.
    "All right, Bitsy. Just be careful."
    "Can I ask you something, Dad?"
    "Anything."
    "What makes Uncle Joseph so dangerous? And if he is such a threat, why did mom suggest for me to stay here in the first place?"
    "Regardless of how I feel about her husband, I know that my sister would never let anything happen to you. That's the only reason why you're still there. Let's leave it at that."
    "Fine."
    "I'm putting your mom back on the phone now. She's chomping at the bit to find out about your trip."
    "Okay, Dad. Bye."
    "Bye kiddo."
    Tonight is the party at Jagger's and at this point I'm running a little late. I run a little smoothing serum through my curls while I finish my conversation with my mother. We talk for about ten more minutes about my pitch meeting, the weather in the Bahamas, and if I'm seeing anyone special.  
    I told her that Ethan and I broke up a while ago but obviously never gave her the details as to why, so as far as she's concerned I'm on the open market. I swear my mother could set back the women's liberation movement a hundred years with her ridiculous need to set me up with someone.
    I'm sitting on the edge of my bed and fingering through a few of my curls while staring in the mirror. Every time I reach the end of one strand, I think about Roman and how he loves to play with my hair. In fact, for the past few days, almost everything I see or do in this house reminds me of Roman.
    I've been shamelessly looking for him to come through the front door everyday since we've returned from the Bahamas, and every day he doesn't. Earlier today I finally broke down and sent him a text.  
    It was a mistake.
    Me: Hey
    Roman: What's up?
    Me: Where have you been?
    Roman: Working
    Me: Umm … are we okay?
    Roman: Yep
    Me: All right then. I'll see you later.
    Roman: Cool
    His monosyllabic answers felt like tiny little needles pricking at my heart. He is obviously still angry with me for shutting him down and it hurts like hell. It was my fault though. I let things go way too far and then ran away. Once again.  
    Of course the next obvious thing for us to do was to have sex after all those orgasms he tortured me with. Why wouldn't he think that I would want that? Why wouldn't he be mad that I didn't? I'm ridiculous, and even I know it. Why can't I leave this man alone? Why can't I just worry about School Bucks and finding a part time job? Why can't I get my act together? I'm a hot mess.
    But Roman is my weakness.  
    He's frackin' irresistible.  
    Just like a Hershey bar … I took a couple of real yummy bites and then realized at the last minute that I was about to eat the whole damn candy bar. So I stopped myself. And even though it hurts like hell right now, I know it was the right thing to do.  
    So no more indulgences for me anymore. I'm totally off chocolate, and I'm going to stick to my very simple vanilla plan.  
    1. Go to Jagger's. Have fun at Jagger's. Nice and easy. Safe and simple. No more slippery, slimy Ethan. No more toxic-for-me Roman.
    2. Find a job so I can move out of Roman's house.
    3. Find an angel investor for School Bucks.
    Easy peasy.
    I've got this.
    ***
    Jagger lives in a very modest one bedroom apartment