Page 14 of The Baby Dragon Bakery
“Come on,” she said. “That’s enough Theo time for you all, now we’re going upstairs.”
Things were back to normal between them, and she would keep them that way. After spending some time with her family, they usually hung out in her room.
She took Theo’s hand, pulling him off the ground and practically going sprawling herself in the process.
“Can I come too?” Alfie asked, handing Biter a chew toy. Beena was in the kitchen, making dinner.
“Hmm,” she pretended to think. “No!”
Alfie pouted, about to cry. She pinched his cheek. “Watch Biter with Daddy. We’ll be back down for dinner, alright?”
“Then we can play football, too,” Theo added.
“Promise?” Alfie asked, still pouting.
“Promise.”
Alfie automatically lit up. He was such a fake crier. Theo laughed, ruffling Alfie’s hair. Lavinia loved seeing Theo with Alfie, and there went her stupid heart, getting all gooey again. She needed to stop, so she mentally smacked herself.
She went up to her room, Theo following her, telling her how his day at the bakery was, relating some gossip about his coworkers, who were in some sort of love–hate relationship and who always had some moment that made for a good story.
They entered Lavinia’s room, which was maximalist in style—things everywhere. There were so many different eras and trends that she had enjoyed, and there were many memories in every corner of the room: movie and concert andairplane tickets, receipts from special days, all collaged together on cork boards. Books and trinkets and dried flowers.
Then her schoolwork, notebooks and textbooks and papers and folders, stray pens and markers and highlighters. She had a monthly calendar on the wall, then a weekly calendar on her desk. Now that it was autumn, she’d pulled out all her fall scented candles, but that was about the only thing that had changed in this room. It had looked like this since she was a teen, just with more and more bits added on as she lived her life.
She pushed some clothes onto her desk chair and they both sat down on her bed, talking about regular things, about everything. As they talked, they both ended up lying down in opposite directions, her feet up on her headboard, his hanging off the bed.
She told him about the rest of her evening yesterday, how her mom was watching a Jane Austen adaptation with her dad and she and Alfie ended up watching as well, Biter comfortable in her lap. Afterward, Alfie had helped her bake brownies for dessert—and Theo was horrified to hear they had just made them from the box instead of from scratch.
They always told each other every single little detail or thing that happened or that they thought or felt. Well, almost everything. But it was close enough to feel like things were back to normal, and thank god for that. She had missed him.
Even just one weird day between them, and it had made her feel unsettled, but now that he was here, she was glad. It was like he was a part of her, and every time he was gone, there was an undeniable sense of somethingmissing, but whenever he was with her again, everything felt right, how it was supposed to be.
Until her gaze strayed to her vanity, to the drawer in which she knew she had hidden away his cologne. She should just give it back to him, she knew that, but she was greedy. She couldn’t—she didn’t want to.
She couldn’t have him, but she could have this part of him, to play pretend in the dark hours of night, when she was at her most vulnerable.
Lavinia shook those thoughts away, reminding herself of her deadline and the path that would lead to success: Calahan.
An idea popped into her head.
She sat up. “I need a makeover.”
Chapter 6
Lavinia watched as Theo’s expression turned confused. He was still lying down, but he looked over at her with furrowed brows, his hair flopping. “Huh?”
“I need a makeover,” she repeated.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You don’t.”
“No I really do, it’s a vital part of every rom-com montage, and it’s how we’re going to tackle Operation Calahan.” One thing about Lavinia: once she had a plan in her mind, she needed to see it through.
She hadn’t had a plan with Theo; the near-kiss at the engagement party had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Another sign of just how wrong that entire situation and idea had been. She wouldn’t make the same mistake with Calahan.
She had three months until her deadline. She would make a plan; she would be prepared. Everything would work out.
Theo’s jaw clenched. “You do know all those stories are rotting out your brain, right? None of that shit’s real.”
