Hired Love

"Baby, who's this?" Stacy thought she heard some possessiveness in Roman's tone which would've been absolutely ludicrous as he didn't have any reason to be.

Matt was here. She still loved him. His betrayal had done nothing to taper her affection towards him and it annoyed her beyond words. Did Claire know he was here? Why had he come? "Uh..." She began. "This is Matt," Then added for emphasis. "Claire's boyfriend."

Matt winced slightly before adjusting his features. He offered a small smile, looking from her to Roman and then back to her. His eyes were small, a bright blue.

"Could I speak to you for a moment?" He asked her.

Roman wasted no time. "What about?"

Stacy's head snapped to him. What was he doing? She asked him to help her keep her mother happy, not fight her battles for her. This was bit overkill. "Yes Matt, we can talk. Do you have a problem with that, baby?"

She hoped to God he heard the reprimand in her voice, hoped to God he and his masculinity would take a fucking break.

"No," Roman cleared his throat, eyeing her. "I don't. Don't take too long."

He slipped back into the room, shutting the door. Stacy waited a few moments after the door closed, taking deep breaths. Was he here to apologize, or had he figured out there was no way she could have had a fiancé less than a week after they broke up? Whatever it was, she was ready for him. There was a lot she wanted to say but before talking she wanted to beat the shit out of him for breaking her trust and making her look like a fool by sleeping with her sister. What she didn't expect were the words that flew out of his mouth.

"You were cheating on me?"

Flummoxed, Stacy stared at him. He had the guts to talk about cheating to her face when she'd caught him groaning like an enraged bull on top Claire? The nerve. The man was obviously devoid of his thinking capabilities.

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His eyes were cold as glaciers. He stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, any closer and he might have been inside her. "How on earth do you have a fiancé, Stacy? We broke up merely days ago."

Stacy was bewildered. Really, had he lost his memory somehow? "You've got to be fucking kidding me. That's all you have to say? You slept with my sister and God only knows how long it's been going on and you have the temerity to accuse me of cheating on you?

Matt's breathing slowed. "I realize I was wrong, and I apologize for that. It was a mistake, alright? One thing led to another." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "But dammit Stacy, you had someone else all along?"

"A mistake?" She echoed. "You stuck your dick in Claire and it was a mistake? Do you think I'm stupid or what?"

Somehow it just didn't make sense. Ever since that night, she'd been hurt, and bitter and angry. Finding them together had brought back so many memories from when they were younger; that sharp sting of rejection she'd always felt whenever she'd tried to make him notice her and failed, only sharper this time. Words failed to describe how much it had hurt her to see them together. Stacy hadn't known precisely what she'd been expecting but an apology would've been a great place to start. He was dating Claire, for God's sake. "Go fuck yourself, Matt. You can think whatever you want. I'm engaged to Roman, and I can assure you, he is twice the man you'll ever be."

Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heels, slipped into her room, and shut the door in his face.

He'd been about to release the anger he felt the minute she closed the door behind her when he saw her tear-streaked face. He cursed, forcing himself to stand still. If that idiot with bad eyesight had made her cry, it was entirely her fault. Why on earth had she asked him to let them talk in private? And why the hell had he agreed to it?

Roman watched her walk to the bed and sit at the edge in silence, fuming. He'd always had a horrible temper. It was one of the reasons he'd left home and got a place of his own when he was sixteen. Living with his parents and their constant bickering and arguments had been complete hell and he'd lived his early years in anger. Somewhere, one day, he'd chosen peace of mind. For years, he'd worked on his temper, feeding himself positive and soothing words, listening to music that calmed his soul and it had worked. He tended to stay away from things that strained his mind, whether it be family or relationships. It was why he always went to his cousin, Grace to disperse the women he got tired of or who began to tire him out. It was also why he was an excellent painter. Oil painting was satisfying, and it was better because it was never about the money, though he wasn't complaining. Bringing images to life with vibrant colors and depicting emotions as they come just appealed to him.

He had half a mind that Stacy would drive him nuts before the week ended.

In his opinion, she wanted more. He didn't understand it, didn't want to. His promise to her had been genuine; he was going to help her. More than she imagined. But before that, he needed to know.

He moved to where she sat, taking up the space on her left. Curling a finger under her chin, he lifted her face. The tears flowed freely. He told himself that this wasn't part of the job description but something inside kept pushing at him. "Do you still love him?"