From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 46

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 31: Enjoying The View, Bestie?**

“There’s nothing in front of me, Roman,” I uttered, my voice taut, barely above a whisper.

His brow knitted in confusion. “Then why does it feel like I did something wrong?”

I leaned heavily against the dresser, my knuckles turning a ghostly white as I gripped the edge. “You didn’t. You did exactly what I asked you to do,” I assured him, though my heart was racing, and doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of my mind.

He let out a long, slow breath. “Then what is it, Sav? Why won’t you look at me? Why do you keep dodging me like I’m contagious? You’re ignoring me.”

The weight of his words pressed down on me, and I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself as if they could somehow hold my scattered thoughts together. “Because best friends don’t see each other naked in that way,” I replied, my voice trembling with the enormity of what had just happened between us.

Roman blinked, a mixture of surprise and concern etched on his face. “Sav…”

“Best friends,” I interrupted, my heart pounding in my throat, “don’t bend each other over in the backseat of a car and have the kind of sex that haunts you for days. The kind that we just had. That’s not friendship. That’s something else. And we… we broke it. We’re screwed, Roman.”

He stood there, unflinching, his expression oddly calm. If anything, there was a hint of relief in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted.

“We’re not kids anymore, Sav,” he said, his tone steady and unyielding. “This isn’t high school. We don’t get to freak out over feelings and pretend things didn’t happen. We had sex. Amazing sex. And I’m not about to fall apart over that. You shouldn’t either. We’re adults, for fuck’s sake. Don’t expect me to get all weird around you because we fucked. That’s never going to happen.”

I blinked, momentarily stunned by his unwavering confidence. How could he be so composed when I felt like I was losing my grip?

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate level. “You’re my best friend. Seeing you naked and bouncing on my dick isn’t going to destroy that. Not unless you let it. I’m not ashamed of what we did—and I’m sure as hell not going to apologize for it. Not now, not ever. We’re too old for this, Sav.”

The silence that enveloped us felt heavy, laden with unspoken words and unresolved tension, like a loaded gun just waiting to go off.

My voice emerged, smaller than I intended. “So what now?”

Roman’s gaze was unwavering, piercing through the uncertainty like a beacon. “Now we stop pretending this one night changed everything… when maybe it just revealed what was already there.”

I shot him a wary glance. “Which is?”

“Don’t you see how perfectly we fit? How we matched each other? Tell me you felt that, Sav. We don’t just understand each other as best friends. Our bodies do.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Are you out of your mind, Roman? Can you listen to yourself?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m being honest.”

“You don’t get to act like this,” I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to touch me like that, make me feel—whatever that was—and then act like we didn’t just do what we weren’t supposed to do.”

He raised his eyes to meet mine slowly, as if he were gauging my heartbeat. “You’re the one acting like it didn’t happen. I’m right here, Sav. I haven’t moved.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and tight. “You’re still my best friend. And I’m still yours. That doesn’t change. And we shouldn’t… do that again.”

“I’m scared, Roman,” I admitted, my voice shaky and vulnerable.

He took my hand in his, his grip warm and reassuring. “Of what, love?”

I turned to face him, my vision blurring with unshed tears. “What if we ruin everything? What if… what if we…” The words caught in my throat, leaving me with an unfinished thought hanging in the air.

“Look at me, Sav,” he urged, his tone gentle yet firm.

I met his gaze, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

“I hate when we argue—which we rarely even do. I hate when we fight. But most of all, I hate seeing you sad. If it bothers you so much… if you didn’t like what we did as much as I did, then we’ll never do it again. We’ll genuinely forget it happened. Is that okay?”

I shook my head, feeling utterly pathetic as I realized he was so clear-headed while I was a mess of emotions.

“I didn’t hate it, Roman. I… I liked it too.” I struggled to hold his gaze, feeling exposed.

His smile was genuine, lighting up his face in a way that made my heart leap. Then he pulled me into a warm embrace, wrapping me in his comfort. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” I admitted, the vulnerability of my words hitting me like a wave.

The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, each heartbeat echoing with the weight of our uncharted territory.