There are a hundred and one reasons why Kristen Farrow should resist pursuing a relationship with pop star Roman Dean... But she is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Upon first glance she is addicted to him, even while knowing that he may some da...
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"Am I taking you back to the family house or the hotel?" Roman asked, still looking out the window of the restaurant.
Kristen paused for a few minutes, not wanting to talk to him again right away. She moved her salad around with her fork. "Back to my hotel is fine," she choked out. "I have to get dressed for the party."
Roman rolled his eyes skyward and snorted. "Oh yeah. That."
Kristen sighed in aggravation and pointed her eyes at him. "Why don't you tell them to cancel it if you're not in the mood for one?"
Roman got quiet for a minute, chewing softly. He reached for his glass and took a long sip of the wine he'd ordered. His face took on a softness she hadn't seen all evening. It made her want to reach out and touch him. How the hell did he manage to have her emotions all over the place like that?
"Because it means too much to them," he quietly said.
Kristen eyed him for a moment, taking note of the genuine emotion in his eyes. "Oh."
"This birthday is very significant for them."
"Why?"
Roman's eyes stared aimlessly out the window. He was quiet for several minutes. Before long, that hardness was back. He looked over to her, gesturing towards her salad. "Are you done?"
Kristen glanced down at her half-eaten salad and resumed eating. "No. I still have a little bit left."
Roman threw his burger down on his plate and shoved it away, wiping his mouth hard with his napkin. "Yeah well, as soon as you're done we'll get out of here. I've lost my appetite."
Kristen looked at him, anxiety gripping her chest. She hated this back and forth with her emotions. They were about as screwed up and twisted as his. It was difficult for her to stay mad at him and she hated that. "I'm sorry," she timidly said. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No. I'm just ready to go. I have things to do."
Kristen swore and slammed her fork down on her plate. "Oh my God, would you please stop saying that? I know that already!"
"Obviously not. It's taking you forever just to eat one damn salad."
"You know what? I don't even have to finish. This shit is ridiculous. It was your damn idea to get something to eat. We could've just stayed at your family's house if this was how the day was going to turn out."
"God no. That would've been torture."
"You know what? Screw this shit. Where's the waitress?" Kristen looked around for the waitress, her pretty face twisted with exasperation. "Let me get a damn doggy bag so we can get out of here."
Roman dismissively waved a hand at her, ignoring her attitude. "It's fine, go ahead. Finish."
