Page 174 of Rebound
“Did you get rid of the men?” I ask.
“You said it was girls' night. I gave you a girls’ night.” He sounds so blase about it all. “With the added bonus of me not going to jail for killing any man who looks at you.”
I huff a laugh. “I can’t believe you dropped hundreds of thousands of dollars on a whim. What does your financial manager even do?”
“You’re not a whim, Blossom. You’re my wife, and I’ll do everything and anything I need to do to keep you safe and mine. I have a feeling these girls’ nights are going to be a frequent thing and now you have somewhere to go where I know you’ll be safe.”
In an environment that he can control. I think about his clean apartment, the way he’s organized everything in the kitchen and his closet. My husband likes control and I'm an anomaly in his life he can’t control, not that I think he even wants to.
“I can take care of myself,” I say in a small voice.
“I know, baby. But when I said I do, I volunteered to take care of you as well.”
Oh no, he’s going to make me cry. I sniff, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I don’t know what you think is happening, but literally no one has ever flirted with me. I’m apparently not the girl people flirt with,” I say. I got boyfriends by happenstance through friends and people I knew. All my relationships went from being friends to oops, we’re attracted to each other so we might as well date.
“That’s because you scare them, as you should,” Roman says. I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous.
“I don’t scare you.”
“That’s because I’ve seen you devour eight cupcakes in a row and promptly throw up.”
“I was eight!” I exclaim, crying laughing at the reminder of that birthday party. Regardless of the puke involved, it was still one of my favorite parties. “I’m going to buy bottles of their most expensive champagne for every table.”
“I expect nothing less. They have my credit card on tab. Have fun, baby.”
I disconnect the call, and on my way back to the table, I tell Maya to send a bottle of champagne to every table.
A low tune rings out, indicating another dancer stepping on stage and I’m grateful because I need time to think. Aunt Constance told me a long time ago that if a man wants you, he’ll show with his actions that you’re important to him.
Roman shows me that every day. I need to have a very serious conversation with my husband.
FIFTY-TWO
LAVINIA
I slip into the apartment around one in the morning. It’s quiet and peaceful, the only sound is the hum of the fridge. Roman is probably asleep by now, so my talk with him will have to wait until tomorrow morning.
I slip off my sandals and turn to walk to the bedroom, only to jump half a foot into the air when I see a pair of eyes watching me.
“Sabrina! You scared me,” I whisper.
Sabrina licks her mouth, and I swear she grins evilly. I keep an eye on her as I walk by her. I wouldn’t put it past her to trip me on purpose.
I tiptoe into the bedroom, expecting Roman to be asleep. Instead, I find him reading in the corner chair, the floor lamp the only light in the room other than the lights of the city outside. He looks up when I walk in, his eyes raking over my body.
I drop my heels and go to him, straddling his legs and lowering my mouth to kiss him. I’ve wanted to kiss him since I spoke to him on the phone.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” I say, pulling back a little.
Roman settles his hand on my thighs, sliding lower down in the seat until I can feel him pressing against my center.
“I couldn’t sleep without you,” he says.
His words don’t help my situation. If anything, I’m wetter than I was when I walked into the room. I rock my hips back and forth and I feel him harden against me.
“Were the boys nice to you?” I ask.
