Chapter 6

Roman POV

It was just past midnight when I finally got back from the gym. The house was quiet, cloaked in shadows and silence, except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the wooden floor under my feet.

I dropped my duffel by the front door and rubbed the back of my neck, sweat still clinging to my skin beneath my hoodie. I should’ve just gone straight to my room, locked the door, and stayed the hell away from her. That was the plan.

But I could hear the faint sound of laughter. Hers, It was soft, muffled, and coming from the kitchen.

Fuck.

I should’ve turned around. Walked away. Pretended like I didn’t hear a damn thing.

Instead, I moved closer.

Her voice floated through the hallway, light and full of life. She was on a video call or something, chatting about absolutely nothing, and yet I stood there like a fucking idiot, listening to every word.

She had that kind of voice bright, warm, easy to get drunk on.

I hovered by the doorway for a second too long, debating whether or not to walk in, when she looked up and saw me.

Her smile faltered, and something like heat flickered behind her eyes.

She ended the call quickly, flipping her laptop shut like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

"Didn’t hear you come in," she said, brushing her hair back.

I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, now you’re here. So?”

I tried not to look at her bare legs. She was wearing some oversized T-shirt and socks, nothing else. The sight shouldn’t have affected me, but it did. Like a punch to the gut.

She looked too good. Too comfortable. Like she belonged here. And that pissed me off.

“I’m not here for small talk,” I muttered, walking to the fridge.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you're here to raid the fridge in the middle of the night like a raccoon?”

I didn’t smile. Couldn’t.

She was always doing that—chipping away at the walls I’d built around myself. Her energy was annoying. Infectious. Beautiful.

I hated that about her.

“You shouldn’t walk around the house like that,” I said without turning.

“Like what?” she asked innocently.

“You know what.”

She scoffed. “It’s not like you haven’t seen legs before, Roman.”

I slammed the fridge shut. “Don’t tempt me, Ariana.”

She blinked, caught off guard, and for a second, the air between us shifted, Tense.

Her voice dropped a little when she said, “I wasn’t trying to.”

But she was.

She didn’t even realize the way she teased, the way she looked at me like she wanted something she couldn’t name. Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

Either way, it was dangerous, And I was already too close to the fucking edge.

“You should go to bed,” I said sharply. “Your mom and my dad aren’t here to babysit you.”

“I don’t need babysitting.”

“Then act like it.”

I turned to leave, to end this before I said something I couldn’t take back. But her voice stopped me.

“Why do you always do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Push me away like I’m some kind of problem.”

I clenched my jaw. “Because you are.”

She flinched like I’d slapped her, and instantly, I regretted it. But I couldn’t soften it. I couldn’t let her in.

She stepped closer, arms crossed, eyes glinting. “You can’t scare me off, Roman. I’m not that easy.”

“I don’t want you here,” I said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want your voice, your smiles, or your fucking sweetness anywhere near me. You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

She stared at me, quiet.

And then she whispered, “Maybe I do.”

I stared at her too long. My fists clenched. My heartbeat reckless.

Then I turned and walked out. Fast. Without looking back.

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep pretending I didn’t want her.

And if she looked at me like that again, I’d stop pretending altogether.

I used to think I didn’t care about much. I kept to myself, played it cool, kept people at a distance. That’s what worked. That’s what kept the noise out of my head and the heat out of my chest. But that was before Ariana walked back into my life and didn’t even recognize me.

It’s insane how one person can walk through the door and throw your entire world off balance just by existing.

She still has that wild sparkle in her eyes. That same crooked smile. The same laugh that used to echo through the neighborhood when we raced bikes down sunburnt sidewalks and shared stolen popsicles under the summer sun.

And now?

Now she looks right through me. Like I’m just her arrogant, cold-as-ice stepbrother.

She doesn’t remember the boy who pulled gum out of her hair or helped her climb trees too tall for her tiny legs. Doesn’t remember the promises we whispered in the dark, the way she clung to me when she was scared of the thunder.

Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t care. Maybe it’s better this way.

But every time she walks past me, humming under her breath like she owns the hallway... every time she looks at me with that mix of curiosity and challenge—like I’m just some jerk in her way I feel it. That twist. Right in my chest.

And the worst part? I can’t tell her.

I don’t know why I’m being such a coward about it. Maybe it’s because I know what’ll happen when the memories do come rushing back.

She’ll look at me differently, Maybe even hate me.

Because the boy she knew the boy she trusted isn’t the same man standing in front of her now. I’ve changed. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. And she’s still soft. Still kind. Still everything I’ve never been good enough for.

She tried to tell me something earlier her big news. I saw the way her face lit up, how excited she was. And what did I do? I shut her down. Ice-cold. Just like always.

I told her to stay away from me when she knocked on my door..

Not because I don’t want her close. But because I want her too fucking much.

And that scares the hell out of me.

I sat on the edge of my bed, running a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. Maybe I’m punishing her for forgetting me. Maybe I’m punishing myself for letting her go in the first place.

But the truth is, I miss her.

Even if she doesn’t remember... I remember for the both of us.