Page 59 of Along Came Amor
Ava’s lips curved slightly. “What kind of movies did you watch together?”
He winced. “Well, we were at the mercy of our local Blockbuster. I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but that store was notoriously out of anything good. We once spent an entire Saturday watching four of theLand Before Timemovies in a row.”
“Oh no. How old were you?”
He groaned. “Fifteen.”
She covered a laugh. “Whose idea was it?”
“Mine, I’m sad to say. And let me tell you, nostalgia will only take you so far.” He put his arm around her and led her toward the kitchen. “Let’s hope we find something a little more engaging than cartoon baby dinosaurs.”
The way she smiled up at him did funny things to his insides, and he found he was more excited about the prospect of a movie marathon with her than the fanciest dinner in the world.
On their way into the kitchen, Ava stopped short. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in their surroundings.
“What’s wrong?” he teased.
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s actually more comfortable than I expected.”
“Which was what? Some sort of sterile open plan living space with chrome furniture and marble floors?”
“Actually, yes.”
He snorted. “As if my Puerto Rican mother would let me get away with that. She thinks minimalism is a dirty word.”
She smiled. “To be honest, I thought you would live in one of those hundred-story glass monstrosities.”
He shuddered. “Not in a million years.”
He tried to see his home as she might. The five-bedroom apartment was located in an unassuming prewar building where Roman was one of the youngest co-op owners—and only one of two with Latin American heritage. Art from around the world mixed with framed family photos on the walls. The furnishings showcased a variety of textures in warm colors, with thick rugs covering cherry hardwood floors. Bits of personal clutter—Mikayla’s purple headphones, his extra reading glasses, a pair of his mother’s earrings—were scattered about. There wasn’t a hint of marble or gilt anywhere in sight.
“How long have you lived here?” Ava asked, examining the picture frames on the bookshelves. He caught her quick smile when she spotted his old Little League photo.
“Five years. I bought it when my mother and sister moved in with me.” Before that he’d lived downtown in a fancy new building full of young professionals, and he’d hated it.
“How many... ”
When she trailed off, he gestured for her to go on. Taking a deep breath, she completed the question. “How many homes do you have?”
He almost didn’t want to answer. “A house in the Hamptons, another in Puerto Rico, and I’m looking for a place in Los Angeles. But New York is, and has always been, home to me.”
She nodded, then moved to the windows, where the view of Central Park spread out before them.
He wanted to tell her how he’d spent his twenties living in one shitty studio apartment after another, enduring everything from roaches to poor heating to dorm-size kitchen appliances.But there was no way he could say it that wouldn’t sound defensive.
“Is it too much?” he asked quietly, worried that, like the hotels, the lavish environment would put her off. So he was surprised when she turned back to him with a soft smile on her face.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “It feels like a home.”
And just like that, his nerves settled.
In the kitchen, they raided his sister’s stash of snacks—Doritos, Reese’s Pieces, and gourmet popcorn—and Ava insisted on ordering pizza for them to be delivered. She hadn’t brought an overnight bag, so Roman gave her one of his own T-shirts to change into before they climbed into his king-size bed.
It occurred to him that he probably could’ve found pajamas for her in either his mother’s or his sister’s closets, but there was something satisfying about seeing Ava in his old University of Miami shirt.
“What’s your favorite comfort movie?” he asked, turning on ScreenFlix.
She busied herself opening the Doritos. “We can watch whatever you want,” she said, then shot him a grin. “ExceptThe Land Before Time.”
