Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Chapter 32
Iris
After we disembark from the private plane in LA—how is this my life?—Roman and I walk across the tarmac with Maverick between us and Roman’s parents trailing behind.
“Mommyyyy!” Maverick shrieks. He breaks free of our hands and runs to the most spectacularly gorgeous woman I’ve ever beheld in my life. A woman so stunningly beautiful, I’m not surprised Roman threw caution to the wind and had unprotected sex with her. Who wouldn’t take that gamble, when there was a possibility of creating a kid blessed with half this woman’s stunning genes?
Insecurity floods me in a torrent. Roman and I had amazing sex in Kauai, but that feels like a lifetime ago, given that we didn’t sleep together in Orchard Blossom. At some point during this past week, I decided that was because Roman had made some romantic decision to court me. But now, suddenly, this woman’s jaw-dropping beauty is making me wonder if Roman’s physical attraction to me has waned since Hawaii. Were all those internet trolls right? Was Roman “bottom-feeding” when he bothered with me in Kauai? Has he invited me to stay with him for a spell in LA to see if we might recapture some of our old physical chemistry?
“Hey, Vanessa,” Roman says warmly. He gives the woman a brief side hug before gesturing to me. “This is my girlfriend, Iris. Iris, this is Maverick’s mother, Vanessa, and her husband, Jay.”
There it is again.
The same word he used with Brandon yesterday.
Girlfriend.
I exchange pleasantries with Vanessa and her husband, before Vanessa shocks me by gushing, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Iris. During every FaceTime call this week, Mavvy talked about all the fun he was having with ‘Irish.’ Thank you especially for taking him horseback riding. He was over the moon about it.”
I’m thrilled and relieved. Of all the ways this first encounter could have gone down, this is best-case scenario. “I’ve loved every minute with Maverick,” I reply. “He’s so sweet. You’ve done a great job with him.”
With a smile, Vanessa runs her manicured fingers through her son’s soft, lush hair. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from a preschool teacher.”
I’m shocked. Roman told me he’s on great terms with his baby momma, but even so, I was petrified to meet Vanessa today—terrified she might not like or trust me enough to let me continue interacting with her son. But now, I can plainly see my worst fears aren’t going to materialize.
Vanessa’s husband asks me a question and we chat briefly, but long enough for me to realize he’s every bit as amiable and welcoming as his wife. As we’re talking, Roman’s parents reach the group, and another round of warm greetings ensues. There’s no tension, I notice, as cheeks are kissed and words exchanged. No secret side-eyes or stilted conversations. Only love and respect. I can feel it.
Roman squats down in front of his son. “Bye for now, buddy. I’ll see you in a couple weeks at my new house. You want to know the best part? I’m gonna pick you up in my car at your house and drive you to mine. No more hotels. No more airplanes. We live in the same city now.”
Maverick hugs Roman. “I love you, Daddy.”
Roman chokes up. “I love you, too, buddy. I’ve had the best time with you.”
When Maverick leaves his father’s embrace, he beelines to me. “Bye, Irish.”
A lump rises in my throat. “Bye, Mavvy. I had fun with you this week.”
Vanessa prompts, “Thank Iris for all the fun stuff she arranged for you, honey. She went above and beyond for you.”
“Tank you, Irish.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m sure I had even more fun than you did.”
Maverick squeezes my legs. “I love you,” he says out of nowhere, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say—and then, as my heart explodes and my eyes prick with tears, he leaves me in the dust and traipses off to his grandparents next.
“I love you, too, Mav,” I choke out, my voice cracking with emotion. “So, so much.”
I look at Roman, smiling through tears, and he looks every bit as emotional as I feel. There’s nothing I want more than to say those same three little words to Roman: “I love you.” But, obviously, I can’t say them first. Certainly not when I don’t know if Roman will say them back. For crying out loud, I don’t even know if Roman will invite me to stay with him in LA longer than two short weeks.
“Are you okay, baby?” Roman asks, glancing from the highway through his windshield to me.
“Hmm?”
He adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. “You seem awfully quiet over there.”
We’re riding in Roman’s squeaky-clean fancy sports car, driving from the airport to his brand-new digs in Malibu, the affluent, oceanfront city Roman selected as his new home base in California.