Page 130 of Rebound
Are you almost home?
Roman
Almost.
I can’t wait any longer.My body is jittery with nerves, and I’ve checked my reflection in the floor length mirror in Roman’s closet at least fifty times. I’ve braided and unbraided my hair, left it down and put it up, and left it down again. Put on lip gloss and removed it because who wants to kiss with lip gloss?
I grab my phone off the kitchen counter and send a voice note to Jules. I’m leaning over the counter, one foot kicked up onto the footrest of a bar stool. Anxiety churns in my stomach.
“How is it that I’m thirty-two and this is the first time I’m doing this?”
My phone makes the swoosh noise of a sent message, and the ding of the reply comes immediately.
“Because you’re officially in your thirsty thirties with a hot husband who treats you like a princess.”
“But I don’t want him to treat me like a princess,” I send back.
Jules’s reply is her laughing and then, “Don’t worry, my precious flower, I’m sure given the opportunity he’ll rail you to within an inch of your life.”
My face flushes with heat and that anxious feeling starts to get worse. “How can you be sure?”
I don’t know why I ask because I already have proof from Philly.
“I can be sure.”
I turn around, almost face planting to the floor because my foot’s still tangled with the barstool. Roman’s standing two feet away from me, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight and that sinful mouth tilted up into a smirk.
My heart thumps inside my chest as I take him in. I haven’t seen him since the Falcons game and those two days in between were long as hell. Instantly, I’m a lot calmer and the anxiety almost goes away.
Roman’s never made it secret how much he wants me or how much he cares about me as a person with feelings. His presence soothes over all other hurts and leaves behind a pleasant tingling sensation.
“When you said you’re almost home, were you already in the building?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he asks a question of his own. “Are you wearing my jersey?”
I look down at myself in surprise as if I didn’t plan this whole thing.
“Oh, yeah! I guess I am wearing your jersey.” I clap my hands, moving away from the stools and around the counter. “I was going to make dinner but ended up ordering takeout instead. Are you hungry?”
I wave my hand over the takeout containers like a showgirl. But the hunger in Roman’s eyes isn’t directed at the food. He rounds the counter slowly, never taking his eyes off me. The way he moves can only be described as prowling and it makes my insides quiver in the most delicious way.
“Lavinia, you’re in my apartment, in my jersey, probably wearing nothing under it. The last thing I’m thinking about is food.”
“Oh?” I blink innocently. “You want to go straight to sleep, then? You must besoexhausted after all that travel.”
“Lavinia,” he growls.
Before I have the chance to reply or think, Roman moves. He grabs me andtosses me over his shoulderin one move like I weigh nothing. I scream, grabbing his waist with my hands.
“Roman!” I laugh. “Do not drop me.”
“You don’t even need to ask, baby.” His grip on my thighs is like steel and I don’t doubt for a second that I’m safe. I’m always safe when I’m with him. He’s leading us away from the kitchen and towards his room.
“I could get used to being carried around if there wasn’t a shoulder digging into my stomach,” I say lightly.
In the bedroom, he does exactly what he said he wouldn’t do and drops me. At least, there’s a bed under me. I grip the covers in my fist so I don’t slide off the bed.
“I can’t believe you dropped me after telling me you won’t drop me. How can I ever trust you again?”
