Chapter 29 That Happened The car was too quiet. The rain was still falling, soft now, like a whisper. My hands were still on the glass. My dress was ripped at the sides, my panties shredded. I could feel him dripping out of me, warm and thick between my thighs. My nipples still tingled where his mouth had been, each breath brushing against them like a tease. I could still feel his hands around my throat. I shifted slightly and winced—not from pain, but from sensation. Every nerve ending was alive. Every part of me was humming. Roman leaned back in the seat beside me, his chest still rising and falling heavily. My legs were draped across his seat now. The fogged-up windows made it feel like we were in a world that didn’t exist outside this car. "Well," he said finally, voice hoarse. “That happened.” I glanced at him. He was already looking at me. And I didn't know what to say. I was certain I looked crazy after what we did. My lipstick was gone. My bob was a mess. I probably looked wrecked.Wrecked by him. His eyes darkened again, and my breath caught. It was as if he could read my mind without even trying. We were quiet for another stretch. The only sound was our breathing, the ticking of the cooling engine, the rain. I couldn’t look at him without remembering how it felt—how he felt. How he filled me. How I clenched around him. How he kissed me right after he came. Like I was everything. I swallowed hard. “We should… probably go home,” I whispered. Roman nodded but didn’t move. Neither did I. I still wanted him. As stupid and as wrong as it was, I still wanted him again. I wanted him inside me again. I wanted him to touch me everywhere. Roman notices my shift in demeanour. “Sav,” he murmurs behind me, rough and low. “Hey. You good?” I straighten up slowly, tugging my dress back into place with shaking hands. “Yeah,” I lie, again. “Just… dizzy.” He laughs a little. It's quiet. A breathy sound, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to laugh. “Dizzy from vertigo or from how hard I just fucked you?” I whip my head around to glare at him. His smirk fades fast. The moment lingers—naked, bruised, real. Our eyes meet. And suddenly, I don’t feel sexy or wild or unstoppable. I feel... terrified. Because I know exactly what we just did. Because I know that I had blindly destroyed the only good thing I had in my life over a wild night of passion. Roman was my anchor. My best friend. Our friendship? The most precious thing. Now what are we? Where does this leave us? Where do we go from here? Roman is still looking at me like he doesn't understand why I'm this still. I don't know how he's so calm. Or how he's not seeing things the way I am. He's looking at me like this was supposed to happen. Like it was supposed to be part of the plan. And I have no idea what the hell happens now. The silence is loud. Too loud. The kind that stretches between two people who just committed a sin they can’t undo. Us. Roman’s shirt is still half-open, clinging to his chest with sweat. His jeans are around his thighs, still unzipped. My heart was pounding, my thigh smeared with a mixture of his release and mine. The windows are so fogged now, it looks like we’re floating on a cloud of regret. Or maybe just confusion. He reaches for the glove compartment like he’s done this before. Pulls out a packet of baby wipes without a word. Tosses them onto the center console. I just blink at it. “Seriously?” “I didn’t expect this, but...” he shrugs. “I’m a man who sweats a lot. I like to be prepared for anything. Don’t judge me.” I bite my lip, looking anywhere else but at him. “Sweats a lot? Roman, you just rearranged my organs in the back of your Aston.” My voice came out lighter than I expected. He grins. But it fades just as fast. Because the joke doesn't stick. Not really. I take a wipe and quietly clean myself up with shaky hands, not looking at him. My thighs still tremble, my throat still tingles where his fingers wrapped around it like he owned me. My core is pulsating. He turns slightly, wiping himself with quick, efficient motions. Then tucks himself in and fixes his appearance, running his hands through his hair. Then… silence again. Wet wipes crinkle. Clothes are fixed. The damage is done, but we’re pretending the car isn’t still thick with sex and steam and the echo of my moans. I can still see my handprint against the window, reminding me of earlier when he was deep inside me. I look away immediately feeling heat crawl up my neck. Roman clears his throat. “So…” Oh God. Here it comes. The awkward “we shouldn’t have done that”. The “we were drunk”. The “let’s never speak of this again”. I brace myself. But all he says is, “You hungry, love?” I blink. “What?” He throws a look at me. “You want waffles? Burger? Or something? You get weird when you don’t eat after… intense cardio. You get dizzy, Sav.” I gape at him. “Did you just call that intense cardio?” “I burned at least 700 calories. That was a workout. I deserve waffles.” I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to throw myself out the window and roll into oncoming traffic.Instead, I nod, voice dry. “Yeah. Waffles sound good.” He pulls the car into drive. We don’t talk. Not even a word. But I feel him glance at me at the next red light, his hand twitching on the gear shift, like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t. My legs are still sore. Very sore. My heart? Worse. Because no matter how many waffles we eat after this, I already know— We just changed everything.