Page 24 of Romeo

As she should.

I hated how reasonable that sounded.

I wanted to call her. Hear her voice, her laugh, the way she said Jasper instead of Romeo like the name belonged to a different man than the one everyone else knew.

But I’d already texted her.

So the phone stayed in my hand.

The call button stayed untouched.

Look at me being fucking civilized.

The uglier part of me wanted the exact opposite. It wanted her here, where I could see her. Where I’d know she was safe without having to wait for a message telling me so. Where every bastard who looked at her would know there wasn’t a chance in hell.

That part of me had terrible fucking manners.

Good thing I wasn’t letting him make the decisions.

Yet.

The next morning, I woke to six inches of fresh snow and a text from Fiona.

Ma Belle: Good morning.

I hadn’t even gotten both eyes open before I was smiling.

Me: Morning, Cher. You up early?

Ma Belle: Granny made pancakes.

Me: Lucky you.

Ma Belle: She made enough for an army. I think she forgets it’s just me and her.

I pictured Fiona sitting at Granny’s kitchen table with sleep still in her eyes and a stack of pancakes in front of her.

The image came too easily.

So did the next one.

Same kitchen. Different morning. Me sitting across from her while she gave me shit over something stupid. Maybe coffee. Maybe breakfast. Maybe the fact that I’d been staring at her instead of eating.

Jesus.

I was mentally moving into Granny’s kitchen now.

Me: Serious question.

Ma Belle: You’ve never asked one of those.

Me: Cruel.

Ma Belle: Accurate.

I grinned.

Me: How do you take your coffee?