all american | lance tucker

ch. 10 • roman pt. 2

I was startled awake by someone's hand on my shoulder, applying just enough pressure to wake me out of a dream I didn't remember. I jumped slightly, only to see Roman standing over me behind the couch. He had a cigarette tucked between his lips, and a grimace on his face. I groaned, stretching.

"You okay?" I mumbled, putting my hand over his. I glanced over at the clock in the kitchen.
2:37. "Why were you gone so long?"

"Smoking tastes like toilet cleaner." He responded, gripping my hand tightly. Strange. And that was a very inaccurate description.

"Um...okay? Do you want to go to bed?"

"I think Judd is a werewolf."

"Babe, are you okay?" I turned around to look at him, giving him a concerned look.

"Werewolves and toilet cleaner..." He drifted off for a second, then seemed to come back, "...I don't wanna see that." He whispered. I whipped around all the way, holding his face in my hands.

"Roman, babe, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked. He was freaking me out.

"Cigarettes. You want one?" He reached for his back pocket, ready to pull out a box, but I held his arm, smelling his breath. Alcohol.

"Maybe you should go to sleep, hun." I sighed, getting up off the couch and grabbing his hand. But he wasn't having it. He pulled away, blowing smoke in my face.

"God, you're fucking hot." He sighed, patting my shoulder. I smiled, running my thumb over his knuckles.

"Yeah, I know. You're lucky." I teased. "Hate to be the one to break it to you, but I'm your girlfriend."

"Yeah, no shit, honey. I'm drunk, but I'm not that drunk." He responded, crossing his arms.

"Then why are you saying all that weird shit?"

"Because I'm contemplating." He said like it was obvious. I wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him forward.

"Well why don't you contemplate upstairs?" I suggested. He decided to listen, but he pulled out of my grasp and instead but his arm around my waist because he liked being in control.

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid." He muttered, squeezing my hip tightly. I pulled away from him, the pressure hurting my hip.

"Ow, Roman. What the fuck?" I snapped. He threw up his hands.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were so sensitive." He muttered, taking the steps three at a time so he would get upstairs way before me. Apparently Roman was a pissy drunk.

"I'm not sensitive, it should just be common sense that squeezing me as tight as you can would hurt me seeing as you're a foot taller than me." I scoffed. He crossed his arms at the top of the stairs.

"Apparently you didn't get enough sleep." He jeered, narrowing his eyes. I reached where he was standing and brushed past him, stalking into his room and shutting the door behind me. I knew he was drunk, but I was still pissed. He opened the door, muttering something inaudible under his breath, and shut it a little harder than he needed to. I climbed onto the bed and sat in the far corner, turning on my phone and ignoring him completely. My experience from dealing with Lance for so long was to just let them chill out for a couple minutes. Or hours, in Lance's case.

"Cara, go to bed. It's already almost three in the morning." Roman sighed, sitting down across from me. I shook my head.

"No. I'm mad at you." I murmured, not looking at him. He smiled softly.

"Shee-it. What am I ever going to do about that?" He teased, pulling on my foot. I smacked his hand, trying to cover my smile.

"Roman! Leave me alone!" I giggled, trying to push him away and he leaned over me. He caught my lips with his, resting on his elbows above me. His hoodie strings hung down and tickled my neck, and I couldn't help but laugh. He pulled away, giving me an annoyed look.