Lily beams. “Welcome, Kate.” She points at a spot in the middle. “Your partner already got you set up.” A large figure rises on my right. I turn toward him, expecting to find the smirking asshole sneaking up from behind, but it’s Roman. He’s barefooted, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, surrounded by a bolster, an exercise ball, blocks, and blankets. Sunlight streams in from the window, lighting him from behind, making him look as handsome and as majestic as the day I painted him in Simon’s Pond.
