Father Roman

Chapter 8

His eyes were empty, and his Teutonic-gold curls that complemented his scruff sat just as still as his expression.

"What on earth do you think you're doing with that?" He snarled.

Roman had long forgotten he was still holding the digital photoframe. With a small gulp, he managed to replace the frame exactly where he'd found it with the man's eyes honing lasers at him. Jesus, if looks could kill he'd already be dead by now.

"Are you Nico Bertinelli?" Roman tried.

"Who wants to know?"

Roman realized the man was just being a little melodramatic, but a little clarification was called for.

"I'm sure your brother has already briefed you on the issue of having me as your assistant starting from today."

"I don't remember saying I was hiring," he said, a low growl to his tone.

"Neither was I up for an interview," Roman replied trying to sound chummy. "But a man's gotta earn his freedom back."

"You must be the infamous priest." It wasn't a question.

"Well, that's me, the one and only."

His face remained sour as ever. Roman contemplated making a second attempt at breaking the ice but rejected the idea on the grounds that the humor would probably go over his head.

"So, are you Nico Bertinelli?" Roman asked once more, his smile betraying his anxiety.

"Last time I checked," he gruffly said. 

From his mariner-blue eyes and that devil-may-care outlook Nico Bertinelli looked a lot different from his brother Santino. Roman wasn't the type of guy to pay a lot of attention to a man's mouth—except what he was doing with it. Right now he couldn't help but notice how Nico's lips were absurdly similar to Saint's. They weren't classically defined but the full bottom lip had potential to make a guy weep and that perfect bow at the top?

Almost looked broody on Saint and...he wanted to lick it. 

Roman blinked at his unwarranted not to mention inappropriate thoughts about his enemy.

Since when did he want to lick Santino Bertinelli's lips?

Straightening his back, Roman cleared his throat. "So where should I start off?"

Nico stared intensely at the priest, no emotion on his face like he was some AI generated portrait. 

His no response however didn't stop Roman from filling the silence as he stood tense wondering if the guy could read his wild thoughts about wanting to lick his brother's lips. In Roman's defense, even though Saint was a certified psycho the guy did have perfect kissable lips and Roman was a full blooded man who hadn't had sex in months also with functional eyes. No one in this world had the right to judge him for that.

Yeah keep on lying to yourself you may start to believe it.

"Maybe I could start by arranging some files or whatever," he mumbled while examining the meticulously color coded file cabinet that obviously didn't require his intervention. "Or maybe I could get you a coffee? Does coffee sound good to you?"

Once again, Nico didn't grant him with a bare minimum response. The silence was daunting and Roman was never known for doing well in silence.

He inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together. "You know I'm kinda walking on eggshells here." Roman let out a nervous chuckle. "So maybe try working with me on this one, please?"