Roman - Part 5

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Why was he so hot?

It was a question that I'd never get tired of asking. It baffled me that every single inch of him, from head to toe, was totally and utterly perfect. Yes, his parents were both very attractive, but holy shit.

"He's twenty-one, I swear" Roman lied to the waiter who didn't look convinced.

"I'm sorry" the middle aged man replied, "but I'll need to see some ID".

I snapped out of my lustful gaze and squirmed in the chair.

"It's fine" I replied, "I'll have a Coke".

The waiter strolled away and Roman turned his attention back to me.

"It's that damn baby face" he grinned, "you're too cute to get served wine in an Italian restaurant!"

I blushed and looked away.

The restaurant was indeed very fancy. Each table had been draped in a fine white cloth, a large candle decorating the centre and the hum of Italian music whispered by, low enough not to disturb the conversations that were flowing between loved up couples, all men and women, except us.

I gulped down the free water and must have looked as awkward as I felt.

"Are you okay?" Roman asked, catching my eye, "you seem nervous".

"Nervous?" I half barked, as though I'd completely forgotten how to communicate like a human, "no, no, I'm just... I um... I'm fine".

The waiter returned with a bottle of red wine and a smaller bottle of Coke. He placed them both down, followed by some glasses, and leaned down between us.

"If" he whispered, "some of this wine was to somehow spill into this glass", he slid a second wine glass toward me, and Roman grinned at me with his beautiful white teeth. "Well, I'm pretty busy tonight, so I probably wouldn't notice".

The bronze skinned man stood up and winked dramatically at me before gliding off toward another table.

"So, Davey" Roman said as the wine glugged into my glass, and then into his own, "tell me about yourself".

Was it just me, or was the temperature in the room beginning to sky rocket. I loosened my already loose tie and chuckled awkwardly.

"There's not much to tell" I shrugged, and that was true.

I wasn't particularly interesting at all, especially to someone like Roman who probably had a ton of cool stories from all the different places he'd lived, and schools he'd gone to. Compared to him, my life was pretty dull. Compared to anybody, my life was pretty dull.

"Nonsense" he laughed, and held his glass up until I did the same, "tell me about... The scar beneath your right ass cheek".

I cocked a brow. How did he know about my scar?

"Don't forget" he smiled, sipping, "you were the one who ran half naked from your house when you saw me outside".

I smirked as I took a mouthful of the strong wine. I'd never had wine before, and admittedly, it was a little gross.

"My mom and dad took us to a waterpark in Florida when I was younger" I explained, "one of the slides was faulty, I cut myself going down it".

"Damn, that must have sucked".

"Yeah, until we got free admission for life" I chuckled, "now it's your turn".

Roman sat back confidently in his chair. There was something extraordinarily charming about his carefree attitude, but it also made me a little envious. Here I was sweating all over myself at a simple question, and he was acting as though this was the easiest thing in the world.

"Why are you always so confident?" I asked, and immediately felt the sting of regret. "No... I don't mean... Like, obviously you should be confident... I just mean..."

Roman laughed as the waiter returned and took our order. My face was now the same colour as the candle, and when the man left the table, Roman's eyes returned to me and sparkled.

"When my mom died" he said, and now I'd really gone and put my foot in it. "Dad couldn't really handle the grief and a young kid to look after. He sent me to a boarding school in England".

"England?!" I gawped, and he nodded.

"My grandparents on my mom's side live over there, so he dropped me off one day, and I was fifteen the next time I saw him".

The image popped into my head. Mike seemed so kind, yet he'd abandoned his own son at a time when Roman would have needed him the most. It hurt my heart to think about it.

"I'm sorry" I replied, and I truly was, it was awful.

"I didn't think I'd fit in over there, being all American and shit" he chuckled, "and I didn't for a while. The other boys were all pretty well to do and snobby, so I kept to myself until I met Harry".

I hit my tooth with the wine glass as I gulped.

"He was my roommate, and we became really close" Roman continued, "he had this... I don't know, this glow. No matter how difficult things were, Harry seemed to sail through it with ease. I asked him the same question that you asked me one time, and his answer was simple".

Roman gazed out onto the street beyond the window next to us and smiled to himself.

"Confidence isn't about worrying if they'll like me" he said, his eyes following a raindrop down the glass, "it's knowing I'll be fine if they don't".

For some reason the words hit me in the chest and as I mulled over them, they made total sense. The mention of this Harry guy however, stuck in my head.

"So you're not worried if I don't like you" I smiled, and now I realised that I'd already drank half the glass of wine.

"Should I be worried?"

We were looking into each other's eyes again. This was becoming a regular occurrence and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

It wasn't exactly a revelation that I was ferociously attracted to him. His dad had all but spelled it out for him, but now it was my turn to be confident, so I took a deep breath.

"No" I said, "no, I like you. A lot".

He filled both our glasses again and sat back down before his trademark smile lit up his handsome face once more.

"Good" he nodded, and we tipped glasses for the second time, "because I like you a lot, too".

I couldn't even class them as butterflies anymore. They were like butterflies on crack, or perhaps steroids. Every fibre of my body tingled as Roman regarded me with his stunning eyes.

"Gentlemen" the waiter returned, but his hands were empty. "Could I possibly interest you in a table a little more private".

I glanced at Roman and then back at the man. This date was going from good to better by the second, yet Roman seemed less enthused.

"Why?" He asked, and the waiter stopped dead as he made to walk off.

"Excuse me?" The man smiled, and Roman repeated the question.

"Why would we need a more private table?"

The suit wearing man adjusted his collar and smiled wider.

"I just assumed that you and your young friend here would prefer a more intimate setting", he said, and now I could see his smile beginning to falter.

"Why?" Roman pressed, as cool as a cucumber.

The man stared at him for a moment before saying something under his breath and hurrying off.

"What was all that about?" I half laughed, genuinely curious as to why he refused a more intimate table. To me, that sounded wonderful.

"Look" he said, and nodded toward the front desk where the waiter was whispering to what looked like the manager, who appeared to becoming increasingly frustrated as he glared at our table.

A moment later, he stormed toward us, but Roman remained completely calm.

"Excuse me, gentlemen" he said sternly, "but I'm going to have to insist that you take a table in one of our booths, this table is reserved".

"No" Roman smiled, "it isn't".

The man's wrinkled skin turned to a shade of purple that I hadn't ever seen on a human being before, a small vein began to bulge in his forehead.

"It is now" he growled, and slammed a reserved sign in the centre.

"Come on" I said, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second, "we can sit over there, I don't mind".

"I do" Roman smiled, and sipped casually from his glass, "so unless you can explain why you want to move two young men from the window seat of your restaurant, I think we'll stay right here, thank you".

I'd never heard a person as young as Roman argue with someone who was old enough to be my grandpa before. Yet it wasn't really an argument, because only one of them was becoming furious, and it wasn't Roman.

"Sir, I'm not going to ask you again" the man insisted, and Roman nodded as he placed his glass back down.

"Thank you" he said, "I'm glad we've resolved that issue".

"OUT!" The manager barked, which made every head in the restaurant turn toward us, and now I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

As I sank down in the chair, Roman barely batted an eyelid.

"You should get a sign" he told the man, "hang it on your door, or better yet, a poster" he added, and I was so confused that I gave up.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean" the man replied smugly as he took the two wine glasses from us, followed by the mostly empty bottle.

"I'm sure you do" Roman nodded, "or is it a case that you'll take our money, as long as we're hidden away in one of your booths?"

My eyes widened. Surely that wasn't what the man was insinuating, but when I looked at him, he swallowed and shrugged.

"We reserve the right to refuse anybody" he quipped, "and that's just life".

The man hurried off as my heart sank in my chest. How, in this day and age, could somebody be so cruel? We hadn't even done anything.

"Chin up, Davey" Roman smiled, as he stood up and reached out his hand, "they don't deserve our custom, anyway".

I gingerly took his hand, but all I wanted to do now was leave. The restaurant was almost full, and people continued to stare as he led me from the table and stopped next to the bar.

"Do you like wine?" He asked me, but I was too mortified to answer so I shrugged as he grabbed me under his arm and called the waiter over.

"Two bottles of your most expensive wine, to go" he added with a smirk.

The man who had served us, and seemed genuinely uncomfortable by the whole thing, nodded and fetched two bottles.

"Do you have any idea how expensive wine is?" I gawped, thankful that most of the people had returned to their meals. Roman shrugged and swiped his card.

"On second thought" he added, "take fifty bucks for yourself".

The waiter cocked a brow, but smiled apologetically and keyed in the amount before Roman swiped again.

"Dude" I gasped as we stepped out into the rain with the two bottles, "that was like five hundred dollars!"

"I know" Roman nodded, his arm still over my shoulder as we walked through the rainy night, "that manager is gonna be pissed when he checks his credit card statement".

Between two fingers, Roman held out a plastic card and my eyes widened.

"You learn a thing or two in boarding school, Davey" he grinned, and flicked the card into a puddle on the street. "Now, we have two bottles of wine and nothing to do, so lead the way".

I considered it for a moment and nodded.

"I have an idea" I told him, and he looked down at me, "but I'm afraid it means that we're going to be spending the rest of our night doing something a little weird".

Roman smirked and squeezed me a little tighter.

"Oh yeah?" He whispered seductively, "and what might that be?"

As the rain fell even heavier, I took a deep breath and snuggled into the muscular man.

"Playing Fortnite with a pretty cool little guy".