Chapter 13: We Shouldn't Be Doing This, Roman

Savannah Dean was still watching me, the smug smile wiped clean off his lips. “You're crazy,” he said, swimming back a little. I tilted my head, and shrugged a bit, “It’s not a bad diagnosis. At least I own it.” Before he could say anything else, an angry voice sliced through the air like a whip. “Sav, get out of the pool.” My stomach dropped. I turned—and there he was. Roman. He stood at the edge of the deck, fists clenched, jaw tight enough to snap. His eyes were dark, livid, locked on mine like I was a lit fuse. “Roman?” I said, blinking. He extended a hand. “Come with me.” I glanced around, noting the subtle looks from a few lingering onlookers. Eyes were already turning our way. Including little Emily. His nostrils flared. “Now.” “Is everything okay, Roman?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my tone neutral. Dean moved beside me, chest puffed with something like arrogance. “She’s clearly not done with her swim—” “I wasn’t talking to you.” Roman snapped, eyes not leaving mine. The