Three Years Ago
The air in Roman’s bedroom smelled like rain and the expensive cologne he used to wear like armor.
We were seventeen, and we were supposed to be studying for midterms. Instead, I was sitting on his bed, my heart racing as he leaned over me. It was the first time we’d been alone in the Reed mansion without a housekeeper lurking in the hallway.
"Roman," I whispered, my hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. "If your dad walks in..."
"He won't," Roman murmured against my neck. "He’s at a gala. We have the night, Scarlett. Just us."
It was supposed to be our "forever" moment. But just as the world started to blur into heat and skin, Roman froze. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the smoke detector directly above the pillows.
"What?" I asked, pulling the sheets
