The Bull

"So you're keeping this secret for your mother?"
"Yeah."
"Does Bull know?"
I answered with a stiff nod.
He flinched as though this new information was acid to his skin.
"That's not very good." He rubbed his temples. The familiar look of frustration was back in his face. "Not wise at all. You trust him not to tell?"
"We have a deal," I answered nervously. "We keep him happy, he won't spill on us."
"Happy?" he asked coldly.
I cringed back slightly from his hostility. "Yes, I bring him money and my mother satisfies him in bed."
His face turned furious, murderously so. "Ever tried anything on you?"
I was almost afraid to answer him. "No."
His face softened. "Are you happy, Nuru?"
I was full of so many conflicting emotions. "What?"
"I mean. Ever since you left your house, are you happy?" His voice was almost a whisper. "Here, with me?"
"Yes." It came out sounding more like a question. That's not what I'd intended. I couldn't tell him that somehow — impossibly — he, unknowingly, held the key to my happiness. "I am now." No need to tell him how essential he was to that happiness. How it disappeared completely this previous week, along with his disappearance.
"Then I'm glad." His voice was just as tentative.
"Do you have any secrets Roman Reeves?"
He sighed and shook his head, I had the feeling that he hoped we wouldn't talk about him at all. "You'll have your chance tomorrow."
He pressed his lips together, staring at me through narrowed eyes. "So, does your mother love Bull?"
I met his eyes and studied them carefully. What I saw there surprised me. It was a cross between empathy and genuine curiosity.
I nodded and leaned back with my arms folded over my chest, "I believe so." I frowned. "I mean why else would she sacrifice me like this? Sacrifice our relationship? Introduce me to a world mothers do their best to shield their children against — the world of prostitution?"
His voice was throaty than usual when he spoke again, "You aren't angry?" He was frustrated again.
I made a face and popped a piece of chocolate into my mouth and closed my eyes as the rich smooth sweetness flowed down my throat. Bliss! I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. That strange, unsatisfied glint flickering in his eyes.
"What?" I quickly scooped up another piece and popped it in.
"You're beautiful Nuru Lynn, anyone ever tell you that?"
A warm feeling filled my chest at his confession and I bowed my head, hiding my blush, pretending to study my hands for a minute. Giving myself time to calm my racing heart. This seemed too absurd to me — what he'd just said. It didn't make sense. "Really?"
He was still staring at me and he nodded. "Yeah." Roman said firmly, his voice dropping into a serious tone. There was a ring of truth to his voice.
I looked away at the rich white walls. They were much safer than his eyes or his face or his bare chest. Much safer.
"No, I'm not angry. I have no right," I finally answered him. I was tempted to toss another piece in my mouth again but decided against it. "I was at first but then I figured it was a waste of time and energy. Time I could use on something else, something more valuable, like making sure I get my degree and get the hell out of there."
"You're wise for your age," he said, and his voice was hard to hear. I stared at him in curiosity, but he was looking down, at his marble floor.
"I guess growing up without a stable home and an absent mother kinda forces you to grow up," I hedged. "I knew I was alone the second my mother pronounced my father dead."
He nodded thoughtfully. "For a seventeen year old, you sure do sound like my gran."
I frowned thinking about his elegant grandmother.
"... And Bull?" He hesitated. "Do you like him?"
"It really doesn't matter what I think," I stared at his beautiful face. "Does it?"
He shrugged. "It does... I think. Do you think he's a good choice for your mother?"
"Bill seems to make her happy, I guess." I blinked in slight confession. Roman was leaning closer to me than usual. "I... um... I won't pretend I understand what she saw in him in the first place but I'm the child in this case," I said, but it sounded more like a question. "It's her choice."
"The abnormal maturity of your spoken thoughts is... fascinating." There was a trace of disbelief in his voice; he raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips, blowing warm air against my lips. "Talking about choices, what's yours?"
I gasped and closed my eyes for a second. Roman was just so captivating. His question puzzled me. "Are you asking me about my dating preference?"
He frowned, his eyes searching mine intently. "I guess so."
"I—I don't have a preference, per say," I stuttered. His face hardened and I fidgeted with my fingers. He leaned an inch into me. "I'm just looking for the full package."
"There's a package?" This appalled him. His breath was hot against the exposed skin on my neck, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body that shot from the nerve endings in my nape to the soles of my feet.
I gasped. "Why yes, he's got to have ambition, respect for women in general, value monogamy, and he's got to think I'm the most beautiful girl he's ever had the pleasure to meet."
He was frustrated again, I noticed the familiar look. "Did I say something wrong?" I asked him.
"Not really." He pinched the bridge of his nose. Not in anger but in frustration. "I'm just trying to figure you out. Drives me crazy that I can't read you at all. You didn't say anything about looks and money..."
"Not very important," I argued. "Those come and go, why would it matter if he's ugly once I've fallen in love with him surely he'd be handsome in my eyes, that's where the Love-is-blind notion comes to play."
"Hmm...I suppose."
"And you?" I asked. "What's your choice?"
He smiled and totally ignored my question, rather he asked another one. "Do you think I could ever be perfect in someone's eyes?" He raised one eyebrow, the smile disappearing just as brutally as it had appeared.
And I gulped. Was he trying to trick me? I thought for a second, I could easily lie to him or I could just lay my cards on the table and tell the truth.
"You're perfect," I said, deciding on the truth. I watched him eat a piece of chocolate. As he moved his hand brushed against my thigh. He was that close. He didn't notice. But I did. My body was very aware of him. His fingers were delightful against my skin.