Page 100 of Rebound
“Oh, Kita is here?”
I nod, leading Lavinia to the kitchen. Kita is there, sitting at a stool in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hand. Salem is on thecounter and Kita is running a hand down his back, softly cooing at him.
She looks up when we’re closer. “Oh, Lavinia, Roman was just telling me all about you.”
“He was?” Lavinia looks at me in question. Kita is very curious about our relationship, and I like talking to her. It’s strange and nice having someone other than Lavinia to talk to. Apparently, thirty-two is when I’m coming to realize I need people in my life.
“Yeah, he’s told me all about your crush on him, since you were teenagers, and that you used to write his name in your diaries.”
“Did I?” Lavinia raises her eyebrows at me. “I didn’t realize you knew what I was writing in my diaries.”
I press my lips to her head, hiding my smile. I hadn’t said it exactly like that—Kita liked to think Lavinia wants me more than I want her. She wants to believe I’m not stupid enough to marry someone I haven’t dated. Kita doesn’t know that I’d marry Lavinia any time, anywhere, under any conditions.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Lavinia. We’re married now.”
“I’m so happy he married me even after knowing about my giant, borderline stalkerish crush,” Lavinia tells Kita.
“That’s what I said to him,” Kita says.
I step away from Lavinia and move around the counter to pour another cup of coffee. I add oat milk, a lavender flavor syrup, and a tablespoon of cream before bringing it to Lavinia.
“It’s decaf,” I tell her. Kita’s watching us as Lavinia takes a sip of her coffee. The way Kita’s rubbing Salem’s belly with a small evil smile on her face, she looks like a villain.
“Is this Borbone?” Lavinia asks.
“It is.”
“Did you buy this for me?” Lavinia glances at Kita and then looks down at the counter, almost like she’s embarrassed.
“Of course,” I say. “It’s your favorite, isn’t it? I keep it in stock.”
Lavinia’s lashes flutter as she blinks and looks up at me. She still looks surprised and I’m not sure why. Why’s it surprising that as her husband I’d have her favorite coffee in stock and know exactly how to make it? Fine, so she hasn’t told me herself how she takes her coffee, and I might have stalked her on social media, but the point is I paid attention.
“Oh, I’m going to be late for dance class,” Kita announces. She sets her cup down and kisses Salem. “Bye, my love, I’ll see you later. I love you so much. Kiss my other babies for me, Roman.”
She wishes us a good night and disappears out the door, leaving behind a cloud of Chanel No. 5. This time, I lock the door behind her. With Lavinia here, I need to get better at locking my door. Yes, only an idiot leaves their door unlocked. I guess I’m the village idiot.
“Food’s on the way.”
I pick up Kita’s abandoned cup and take it to the sink, washing and setting it on the drying rack. Turning, I find Lavinia walking closer to the counter and holding out a hand for Salem to sniff before she pets him. He leans his head towards her as she runs a hand over his back. He starts to purr when she scritches under his chin, his eyes rolling back.
“He’s in heaven,” I laugh. “He’s also spoiled which is why he’s on the counter when he knows he’s not supposed to be.”
“He’s a good boy.” Lavinia smiles and looks at me. “A lot like his father.”
I roll my eyes and drop the towel I’m using to clean the counter. “Don’t start on that again.”
Lavinia smiles cheekily, continuing to pet Salem. No one in my life has ever called me a good boy. In fact, I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the opposite.
“I’m sorry I’m early,” Lavinia says. “There wasn’t a horrible amount of traffic for once and Kai and I returned sooner than expected. You’re sure you don’t mind? I hope Kita didn’t leave early because of me.”
I step closer, putting one hand on the small of her back. Placing a finger under her chin, I tilt her head back so she’s looking at me. Lavinia has the most expressive eyes, and I can see the nervousness and hesitancy in them now. I don’t want to think about what or who put that fear in her eyes because it’ll piss me off.
“You don’t have to apologize, baby,” I say. “You can come and go as you please. You can come into my apartment in the middle of the night and rearrange all the furniture and I wouldn’t care. All you have to do is show up.”
“I’m sorry I’m a little crazy,” she whispers.
I place a kiss on her forehead, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
