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I kiss her until she’s damn near breathless, until she stops thinking so much. Then I whisper, “I’m still waiting for you to agree to the tacos.”
“Oh…” She sucks in a breath as I pull away. “I would like to try those. I don’t like sour cream, though.”
“Neither do I.” I lead the way and change the subject.
Definitely a fucking sap.
FOUR
PRESENT DAY
TATIANA
One Week Later
Manhattan, New York
Ican’t believe this show hasn’t been canceled yet…
“So, Rachel’s baby daddy has a twin who is dating Carron’s sister who slept with Ryan?” Penelope stared at the television in disbelief. “Can you believe that?”
“As much as I can believe the writers are bringing back the James guy who supposedly died two seasons ago,” I said.
“There’s too many secrets and too many lies!” She tossed a pillow at the screen. “This is why I hate watching soap operas.”
“The secrets and lies are the entire point of their existence.” I sighed, beyond grateful that this week’s episode ofLove in His Grumpiness: The Dirty Bad Billionaire & His Sunshine Girlwas over.
Then again, every dreadful scene was a much-needed distraction from thoughts of Travis. Since seeing him in the stairwell last week, I was struggling to focus on anything else.
His voice interrupted my ballet sessions, stretching the barre into the memories when he made love to me against one. His smile slipped into my morning coffee, reminding me of all the late nights we spent talking and laughing on the phone.
And his lips…
“The writers are dragging out the secret baby reveal like they know I’ll keep watching the next episode.” Penelope was still lost in La-La-land. “They really think I’m loyal to these storylines.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Beyond loyal. I’ll never stop watching and I hope this season never ends.” She laughed and rolled over to face me. “You know, days like this make me miss being roommates.”
“Really? They make me miss the days when we hated each other, when this show didn’t exist.” I joked, standing to my feet. “More Rainy Day wine?”
“You mean,orange juice?”
“I’m trying not to rub it in.” I caressed her baby bump. “Be right back.”
I walked into her opulent, all-white kitchen and pulled out new wine glasses and fruit garnishes.
Ever since we moved out of our shared apartment and went our separate ways, we made a promise to keep our Sunday morning mimosa routine intact. I showed up to her new place wearing pajamas, stifled groans through her terrible soap opera, and she tried not to roll her eyes too hard while we watched a vintage episode ofSailor Moon.
“Do you have any deep, dark secrets, Tati?” she asked when I returned. “Like, anything you haven’t told me?”
“Yeah, sadly. You didn’t misplace your ‘I’m the best figure skater alive’ shirt.” I smiled. “I burned it.”
“That’s it?”
“I lit the matching pants on fire, too.”
“I still have the sweater.”
