From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 194

**Chapter 117: Be Safe, My Love**

**Roman**

There’s an unsettling aura surrounding this guy. No matter what facade he tries to wear, no matter how many polite gestures he throws Savannah’s way, or the harmless little smiles he casually tosses in her direction, I can see through it all. I can smell the deceit, feel the tension radiating from him.

He’s hiding something, and it’s as clear as day. Of course, he is. Any man who concocts a grand scheme to stage a wedding is inherently untrustworthy.

And the way he avoids eye contact? That speaks volumes. A man who shies away from looking someone in the eye is already guilty, even if he hasn’t committed a crime. My instincts have never failed me; they scream at me to be wary.

Dean. Damn Dean.

He leans against his car in my courtyard, striking a pose like some half-hearted gentleman, waiting for Savannah to finish her farewells so he can whisk her away. His gaze has barely met mine since he arrived, but I can feel his eyes darting across my skin in quick, cowardly glances. It’s the kind of look a man gives when he knows he’s already lost the battle.

And he has. Because Savannah is here with me.

She clings to me like I’m her lifeline, and I bury my face into her hair, inhaling deeply. Her scent envelops me—feminine, sweet, and strangely comforting. It’s a blend that feels both soft and dangerously intoxicating all at once.

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispers against my chest, her voice trembling just enough to twist at my heartstrings.

I lower my head, resting my chin atop her crown, holding her tighter. “I miss you already.” My voice is low and steady, but it takes everything in me to keep it that way. “If he tries anything funny, you call me. Don’t let your guard down. Avoid unnecessary conversations with him.”

She nods, her cheek brushing against my shirt. Brave little thing. She pulls back slightly, a sly smile creeping onto her lips that makes my chest ache with a mixture of longing and pride. She opens her bag and tilts it toward me as if revealing a prized possession.

Pepper spray. A lot of it.

I can’t help but chuckle. She knows me better than anyone. I pull her close again, wrapping my arms around her waist. “That’s my girl. But just so you know, I’ll still be tracking your location,” I whisper in her ear. “For my peace of mind.”

“Okay,” she replies, her voice soft yet resolute.

“Sav, we need to leave soon,” Dean calls out, attempting to sound casual, trying to mask the weight of what he’s done.

Savannah rolls her eyes so dramatically that I nearly choke on my laughter. Then, turning back to me, a mischievous glint ignites in her gaze. “Wanna make him uncomfortable?”

A grin spreads across my face. My wicked little minx. “Why the hell not?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she presses her soft body against mine, grabbing my shirt and crashing her mouth against mine.

I respond instantly.

Our lips collide with a fervor that ignites a fire within me. My tongue sweeps past her defenses, and my hand finds its way to her lower back, pulling her closer until there’s no space left between us. She lets out a soft moan, a sound that feels like a secret meant only for me.

I nibble on her bottom lip, tugging and claiming, savoring every moment. My fingers wander over her curves, deliberate and slow, until they slide lower, squeezing the firm swell of her backside. She melts into me, her hunger raw and genuine, a hunger that transcends mere physicality. But I can’t help but glance sideways, wanting Dean to witness this. I want him to see what he lost, what he willingly gave up. I want him to understand how utterly happy she makes me, and hopefully, how happy I make her too.

She narrows her eyes, blows me a kiss, and finally turns to leave.

This woman will be the death of me.

I stand there, arms crossed, watching as she strides toward the car. She ignores Dean’s every attempt at courtesy—opening the door herself, sliding in without sparing him a glance, buckling herself in with sharp, decisive movements.

Good girl.

The moment her head dips down to focus on her seatbelt, I make my move.

I’m at Dean’s side before he even realizes it, crowding him against the car door. My shadow looms over him, swallowing him whole. “You better keep your fucking hands off my woman. Do you understand?”

He blinks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Look, I’m not trying to—”

“I don’t care what you’re trying to do,” I cut him off, my voice sharp as a knife. “If you so much as breathe wrong around her, if your voice so much as brushes against her ears in a way I don’t like, I will end you. Do you hear me? I will fucking end you. And don’t think for one second that I won’t be watching.”

I step even closer, my chest nearly brushing against his, my hand fisting his collar. His breath comes out in short, panicked gasps, and I can see his knuckles whiten as he grips his side.

“Roman?”