The Dare Collection: July 2018. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
would never hurt her—and he wouldn’t—he was too overpowering and overwhelming. He would swallow her whole and all that would be left of her identity would be connected to him. Roman’s woman.
Not Allie, strong and mostly confident business owner who didn’t need to lean on anyone. That person would be gone, and she’d never be able to get her back.
If Allie didn’t have her gym, she didn’t have anything. She’d be starting over from scratch, selling her soul in the process. It was easy for Roman to tell her to trust him, to talk to him, when she was the one making all the sacrifices and he was making none.
“Is that what you really think?”
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken all those thoughts aloud, but she’d put it out there and she wasn’t about to take it back now. “Isn’t that the truth?” Roman had all the chips in this scenario—he had since they’d met. No, not since we met. That first night, we were on equal footing. There was no going back now, though. They were who they were, and neither of them could really change that.
He clenched his jaw hard enough that she feared for his teeth. “Talk. To. Me.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing this whole time. Just because I’m not saying what you like doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” She slid out of the booth and stood. “This was a mistake.”
“Allie, if you walk out that door, that’s it. I’m not going to chase your ass down just so I can keep bashing my head against the same damn wall.” He said it with such finality, her throat burned and her eyes prickled.
Because this was it. They’d been hurtling toward this moment since the first time they’d realized each other’s identities. Part of her had thought they’d find a way around, but he was too uncompromising, too sure that he knew what was best for her.
And he was right—he was nothing like her father or the abusive men who drove the women to her shelter in flocks. Roman would never hurt someone like that, no matter how angry. She’d stake her life on it.
No, the damage he dealt wasn’t physical. It wasn’t even intentional. That didn’t stop her from feeling like he’d reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. “Goodbye, Roman.”
“Allie, wait.”
Her feet stopped, even as her brain demanded she keep moving. Almost against her will, she turned and looked at him.
Roman stood and glanced around them. She’d been vaguely aware that they had an audience before then, but the reality of the situation came crashing down on her. She was having a very public breakup with a man who wasn’t even her boyfriend. This is what my life has come to. “If you have anything left to say, now’s the time.” She waited, holding her breath, wondering if maybe he’d say something that would override her fears and put them back on something resembling solid ground.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. The warmth was gone from his eyes, leaving the cold businessman in his place. “If you don’t take this investor’s offer, you’ll be sentencing both your gym and the shelter to death.”
Allie flinched. She knew that she was in trouble better than anyone, but that didn’t mean she’d put the women who depended on her at risk. Not until she’d exhausted all other options. “I’ll find another way.”
“Good fucking luck.” He shook his head and walked around her. “I do mean that, Allie. It’ll take a goddamn miracle to save you at this point, and you just turned down the helping hand I offered. That’s on you—not me.”
She watched him walk away, a pit opening up inside her with no end. Allie had hit so many snags since she’d set herself on the goal of opening her own business and nonprofit, and every single one of them she’d fought her way through. By all rights she should be furious at Roman, and that should drive her to figure out a solution to this problem.
But all she wanted to do was go home and cry herself to sleep.
She turned to pay for their drinks but caught sight of a fifty that Roman had left on the table. Even pissed as hell, he had ensured that he held up his end of the bargain, at least when it came to this. Stop thinking about that. She’d given him the only answer she could. Ultimately, his investor could paint whatever pretty picture they wanted, because when push came to shove, money talked. Once the papers were signed and Allie was no longer in control, the investor could do as they pleased and she’d have no power to stop them.
She’d made the right call. She was sure of it.
She just didn’t know why it felt so freaking awful to have pulled the proverbial trigger and put an end to both the investor talk and her time with Roman. She should be relieved. It was over. She’d held up her end of the bargain, and she was free. Not to mention a vacation for the record books, the kind she’d remember fondly for as long as she lived...
Even if all she felt right at that moment was overwhelming sadness.
Allie left the restaurant, thought about grabbing a cab and ultimately decided to walk. She needed to expend some energy, to work her way through the crap circling in her head. Roman’s words kept ringing through her mind, telling her that she’d never figure out how to save her gym and the shelter on her own. That she was destined for failure.
Fuck that.
It was easier to focus on business than to deal with the yawning chasm of loss taking up residence in her chest. It didn’t matter how much she told herself that she and Roman would never work—she’d secretly hoped that he’d have a solution that would take care of her fears. Depending on Roman to shoulder all of that was totally fair. It wasn’t that... Allie shook her head and picked up her pace. Maybe it was partly that. She didn’t want to depend on him for everything—for anything—but she had still kind of been on the verge of doing exactly that. Weak.
She couldn’t afford to be weak. Not in business, and not in her yearning for Roman.
Allie still had to fight not to call him as she strode down the block toward her apartment. She wanted to talk to him, to yell, or cry, or...something. Connect. She’d been adrift for so long, and she hadn’t realized it until his grounding presence had slammed into her life. The fact they’d spent only a week together should have been a bucket of cold water on her, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. They had a connection, and it scared her. It didn’t seem to scare him as much, but what did he have to lose? The scales of their risk were not equal.
Roman would move on with his life after this. She had no illusions that he’d be happy to leave her behind, but he was a driven individual who wouldn’t let a little heartache stop him from reaching his goals. He’d find a better-fitting investment for this client. And the next, and the next.
Eventually he’d start dating. Even as chaotic as his schedule had to be, he was too much of the full package not to find a woman willing to put up with it. They’d date the appropriate amount of time and then he’d propose on an island a whole lot like West Island. Hell, maybe he’d actually propose there.
The thought made her sick to her stomach.
Just get home. You can break down when you get home.
She flagged down a cab and rattled off her address. Through the entire drive, Allie focused on breathing, putting every bit of concentration she had on that single task. It got her as far as her front door and then she slumped to the floor. “Oh, God, what am I going to do?”
“YOU’RE IN A pissy-ass mood.”
Roman stared at his drink. It was his second, and he forced himself to sip it instead of shooting it like he wanted to. No matter how good of a friend the man next to him was, he still couldn’t afford to lose control. Mostly because I’ll end up drunk texting Allie and