Savannah

The breath in my lungs didn’t return. Not after that casual revelation.

He had dropped those words so carelessly, like tossing crumbs on a table, but they landed inside me like an earthquake. He loved me.

Or at least, he’d said it. Again. For the second time today. That was the part eating me alive. He’d said it once before and laughed it off, playing it down as a response to something snarky I’d said—as if it were only meant to entertain me. Maybe that’s what it was then. Maybe that’s what it was now.

But then again... maybe not.

"You good, Sav?" Roman asked, his smooth, steady voice breaking through the storm in my head. He glanced at me briefly, a flicker of his green eyes caught in the dim dashboard lights, before refocusing on the road.

I nodded too quickly, a reflex. "Yeah."

What was I even thinking? Of course he didn't mean it that way. He couldn't. He loved me because I was the best friend who made him laugh. That’s what best friends do. They say "I love you" after drunken nights, or big arguments, or when they’re being sentimental.

Just "best friend" love. That’s what I kept telling myself. Over and over.

But my chest was tightening like a fist around my heart, because I knew damn well that what I felt wasn't the kind of love friends were supposed to feel. And worse, I wasn't sure if he knew the difference either.

"You're unusually quiet tonight, Sav," Roman noticed, his tone laced with something I couldn't pin down—concern, suspicion, or perhaps a dark amusement.

"Am I?" I exhaled, trying to sound casual, but the sigh came out heavier than intended.

My eyes drifted out the window just as we passed the ‘Welcome To New Hope’ sign—but from the opposite side. We had passed it days ago on our way in with butterflies in our stomachs; now, there was a pit in my gut the size of the universe. It all came rushing back. The rehearsal dinner. The way he kissed me against that brick wall. The way I had shattered under him and let him see every raw, broken part of me.

Crossing into New Hope, we were just best friends who argued over playlists. Now? We were changed. Different. Deliciously ruined.

That car wasn't just a car anymore. The leather was a shrine to the moment I gave in. Every time I sat here, my body would remember the whimpers that slipped past my lips when he made me his. We were leaving New Hope as something that had no label. A cocktail of shame, regret, lust, and hunger surged inside me.

Was it love? Or just a proximity-induced fever? Fear slithered through me. What happens now? Would he go back to his usual rotation of women? Would we act like the past seven days never happened?

The thought burned. If he suggested pretending it never happened, I would break. I wanted him so much it made me dizzy, but I wasn't stupid. Back home was his territory—his playground. Why would he still care for my body when he could have anyone? Was I just a convenience of the trip?

"Savannah," his voice cut into my spiral. "If you're this uncomfortable riding with me, I can call Reese and we’ll switch." His jaw flexed. "I don’t like feeling like I’m bothering you."

"No! It’s not that. I was just... thinking."

"Are you sure? I know I deserve your anger."

"I'm not mad at you, Roman." My voice was small. I twisted my fingers in my lap. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to make it up to you. For how I lashed out."

"You don't need to do anything, my love."

The way he said my love made my heart slam against my ribs.

"Roman... maybe I can make you coffee for a week? Or cook? Or—"

His voice dropped into a dark, sinful growl. "Or maybe you could do me the honor of letting me have you tonight... until you're shaking too hard to remember what you did wrong."

Air caught in my throat. I choked on oxygen, eyes snapping wide. He didn't even look at me; his gaze stayed glued to the road, his face a mask of perfect calm. The only giveaway was the way his veins stood out as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "I hold nothing against you. But if you wish to clear the bill—forgo the coffee and the little gestures. Let me show you exactly how much I crave you."

Heat ripped through me like wildfire. I darted a look toward the back, making sure Reese was far enough behind us not to hear his filthy, beautiful words.

"Roman, you can't just say things like that out loud."

He smirked. "I’m being honest, my love."

I tried to tease back, though my voice trembled. "Bold of you to think I’m taking my clothes off for you tonight."

He didn't even blink. "Brave of you to assume I can’t have my way with you with your clothes ontonight."

My soul nearly evacuated my body. His voice was low, rough, and extremely lethal.

"So... you still want me? Even though we’re not in New Hope anymore?"

His laugh was dark. "Savannah, I can’t stop wanting you. You're an addiction I have no intention of curing."

He reached over, his hand sliding to rest on my bare thigh, the heat of his palm searing through my skin. "I'm all yours, Savannah."

As the car rolled closer to the familiar streets of home, a strange sense of relief washed over me. No matter what the world called us, I knew the truth now.

Roman was mine. And I was his.

At least, so I thought...