"And before you say anything, I know, you don't think I know you." Roman finished, obviously seeing the look in my eyes.

"You don't. You don't know anything about me or my relationship." I scoffed at him, hoping he didn't see the lie in my eyes.

"You're not hard to read, Lilac." Roman told me, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Who says I want you to read me?" I asked him, tilting my head at him. And even though I couldn't deny the fact that my body was begging me to stop playing games with him, I was telling the truth. I didn't want Roman to read me at all. The book of Lilac is nothing but lies. Nothing but lies, secrets and deadly mistakes.

Roman's grin returned to his mouth, and his eyes moved from my face. They slowly inched down my body again, just like he did in the warehouse. I didn't look away from him, feeling that flutter erupt in my stomach again.

"I think your body is saying that you want me to read you," Roman said, and he raised his hand, two of his fingers outstretched. He landed those two fingers on my knee, slowly dragging them up my leg. I had to fight the chill that threatened to shake me. I watched his fingers move upwards, closer and closer to my hip, before I grabbed them.

"You're despicable." I spat at him, tossing his hand away from me. "You know that right? You know I have a boyfriend, yet you keep hitting on me."

Roman chuckled, interlocking his hands together and placing them behind his head. "Despicable? Wow, low blow, Lilac."

"I regret ever telling you to call me that." I muttered. "But, yes, despicable."

"I don't think I'm despicable. I just know what I want, and I won't let a guy who wears polo shirts stop me from attempting to get it." Roman said, and the weight of his words nestled into my chest.

"And what is it that you want?" I asked him, trying to keep my voice even.

Roman peered down at me, his ridiculously long eyelashes framing those sickeningly blue eyes. "I think you know what I want."

His boldness stunned me into silence. I felt my mouth open, and then close again. I had nothing to say to that, because I was afraid that if I didn't stop myself, I might say what I really want to say. What I really want to say, is exactly what Roman wants to hear.

"Home sweet home." Samuel's voice interrupted our now tension filled silence. Roman and I were staring at each other, like we were both trying to figure the other one out.

I turned my head, expecting to see a house in the suburbs, in the same part of town as Clara and Jesse, perhaps. I was stunned though, by the fact that we had driven into the city. I was looking up at large skyscraper, the lights of the buildings surrounding it reflecting off the black glass windows. It seemed to be made of those windows, and nothing but.

Samuel drove the car into the underground parking garage, pulling into a spot that was surrounded by fancy cars that looked just like the one we were in. I had to fight against my imposter syndrome, because it's clear as day that I don't belong in places like this. I wondered if everyone else could tell that I didn't belong here, and I never would.

"Who lives here?" Clara asked as we all climbed out of the car. Her voice vibrated against our concrete surroundings, causing a slight echo of her words.

"Roman." Samuel answered, as he led us towards an elevator.

"Hmm." I hummed out at the information. I guess I had assumed wrong, in pegging Roman as just another rich boy from the suburbs. Though, these were incredibly expensive apartments, so I wasn't all wrong.

"What's hmm, Lilac?" Roman asked from behind me, no doubt taking my sound exactly as I meant it.

"Nothing." I told him, my voice casual. "Just didn't peg you for a city boy."

"He's not." Samuel answered me as we entered the elevator. He pressed the button needed, then the doors closed behind us. The elevator was small, causing the four of us to be tightly grouped together. Samuel's hand was gripped tightly on Clara's hip, and Clara's eyes were sparking with lust as she looked up at him.

"I got this place the day I turned 18." Roman explained as the elevator hummed to life, and began moving upwards.

"Trust fund baby." I stated, my tone dripping with condescension. "What a surprise."

"Lilly!" Clara chastised me, shooting me a look with narrowed eyes. I raised my hands and shrugged my shoulders at her, as if to say what?

"Something wrong with trust fund babies?" Roman asked me, his voice sounding out light and airy, as if he wasn't offended in the slightest.

"No. I just don't like them." I mumbled, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Bitch, you like me." Clara reminded me, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Everyone at our school is a trust fund baby." Samuel reminded me, his voice curious.

"Ah, well. I don't like most of the people at our school. Just Clara." I told them.

"And your boyfriend, right?" Roman added, raising his eyebrow at me.

"Obviously." I said quickly, thanking the heavens that the elevator chose that time to open.

It led into a beautiful hallway, with only three doors that I could see. Roman walked ahead of us to one of the doors, using a key to quickly unlock it and push it open. Clara and Samuel walked in, and Roman smirked at me as he held the door open for me.

I tried not to let my face change as I walked into the apartment. It was gorgeously decorated, all of the furniture was modern and sleek. There was a very minimalist vibe to it, but it didn't take away from it all looking extremely expensive. Clara didn't flinch as she took it all in, she was used to the luxury this place holds.

I was barely ten feet inside when Samuel spoke.

"So, we're going to, uh, honestly you both know what we're going to do, so we're going to do to that. I'm assuming we'll all still be here tomorrow morning, so we'll see you then." He said, pulling Clara by the hand towards a hallway. Nobody needed to tell me they were on their way to a bedroom.

I started to roll my eyes, until the last part of what Samuel said sunk into my brain.

"Wait! Clara! Tomorrow?" I called after her. No one said anything about staying the night. Clara didn't answer me, she just gave me a look that said sorry, not sorry, before she giggled and scurried away down the hallway.

"Looks like you're stuck here." Roman said, closing the door and walking into his kitchen. The look of the sleek grey stone counter tops made me want run my fingers across them. I refrained, simply out of fear of looking like an idiot.

"I'm not stuck anywhere. I can get a cab." I lied. I couldn't get a cab, because I couldn't afford it.

"Okay, Lilac." Roman dismissed me, as if he could see through my fibs. "Do you want anything?"

I was silent for a moment, weighing my options. "Do you have any alcohol?"

Roman stopped in his tracks, looking me in the face like he was trying to determine how serious I was. "Anything in particular?"

"Anything but whisky." I told him, causing him to laugh.

"Okay, not a whisky fan. Noted." He said simply, before turning and grabbing a bottle off his counter. He pulled out a class from the cabinet above, then turning back to me and placing both in front of me.

I picked up the bottle, inspecting it closely. It looked to be some form of white rum, though I had never heard of the brand. I shrugged, not particularly caring what it was before pouring myself a shot. As I raised the glass to take it, I watched Roman observe me. He watched me in a way that made me feel like he was simply curious about everything I did. Part of me hated it, and the other part of me found it really hot.

I made a face as I took the alcohol in my mouth, swallowing it and feeling it cascade down my throat. I wasn't like Clara, who could take a shot of anything without blinking. My face always reacted, even when I wished it didn't.

Roman raised his eyebrow as I poured myself another shot. I stared back at him, daring him to question it. We remained looking at each other while I gulped it down. I kept staring at him as I poured myself a third. Maybe I wanted him to say something, but he didn't. His head tilted as he watched me drink it. He didn't say anything until I had the fourth shot of rum raised to my lips.

"You sure you want to do that?" He asked me, and he was probably right. He was right in questioning me, but I didn't care.

"Yep." I said, tipping the shot into my mouth.