Page 194 of Rebound
“We’re definitely going to need a bigger house if we’re going to be hosting dinner parties,” I say.
“We’re hosting dinner parties now?” Roman asks.
“You signed your soul to the HoBros. You’ll be hosting dinner parties your whole life.”
Roman looks around at his teammates, his friends, and I swear he sees our future before him. A big house, friends coming over all the time, love and laughter and warmth. There will be cats, maybe a dog, maybe even children.
“I guess we can get a bigger place,” he says, looking back at me.
“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”
My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought that I get to spend my life with my best friend. And I can’t wait for that life to start.
EPILOGUE
ROMAN
Four months later
I wake up to the smell of something sweet filtering in through the open bedroom. Sabrina is curled up on Lavinia’s side of the bed. It’s her favorite place to sleep, even though she still doesn’t let Lavinia pet her. I reach out, running my hand over her soft fur.
“What is Mommy up to?” I ask. Sabrina opens her eyes and blinks at me once, before yawing and going back to sleep.
Throwing the blanket off, I get out of bed and make a quick stop in the bathroom before leaving the room. Music is playing softly, some pop song that I don’t recognize, and Lavinia is singing along to it off-key. I stop at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning a bare shoulder against the wall as I watch Lavinia throw her head back and sing into a wooden spoon.
I want to make sure I’m not accidentally walking into any content she’s filming. Over the last four months, as we’ve adjusted to living together, I’ve accidentally walked into her content many times. She doesn’t mind and neither do I, but I want to respect her space.
She spins around and when she sees me standing in the kitchen, she yelps.
“Oh my god!” Lavinia clutches at her heart. “It’s bad enough the kitties move around without making a noise. I don’t need it from you, too.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” I shrug.” I was enjoying the show. What are you up to?”
Lavinia smiles, squealing a little as she turns and picks up a cake stand from behind her. Setting it on the island, she waves at it with both hands. The cake is covered in white frosting and across the top is written Happy Birthday.
“Did you make this cake?” I ask. I look around the kitchen and don’t see a single thing out of place. “And cleaned the kitchen?”
Lavinia has gotten a lot better at cooking. It’s something she always wanted to learn so the Snack Pack attended random cooking classes to the point where each of them can cook well enough to survive. Which is really all you need, according to Elena.
The only reason I question that she cleaned the kitchen is because on the days I’m home, I do it before she gets the opportunity. Months ago, when her mom told me how she and Aiden split the work, I knew that’s what I wanted for Lavinia and me. Most days, we clean the kitchen together after every meal and Lavinia understands that I do need to clean the kitchen right after the meal.
“Yes, and yes.”
I walk further into the kitchen, rounding the corner to stand next to her, sliding my arm around her waist. “Why did you bake a cake?”
Lavinia rolls her eyes fondly. “I don’t know, Roman. Why do you think I baked a cake?”
I nuzzle my face into her neck. She still smells like me, and it drives me fucking wild. I want her to smell like me all the time.
“I’ve never had someone make me a birthday cake before,” I tell her.
“You can’t say that anymore because I’ve just baked you a cake,” Lavinia points out.
She grabs a candle and lights it before handing me the knife. She looks so excited, like it’s her birthday and not mine. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was old enough to remember.
I don’t want to focus on those old memories, anyway. Lavinia and I are creating our own memories, building our own traditions. If those involve cakes on birthday mornings, then that’s what we do.
“Don’t forget to make a wish,” Lavinia reminds me.
