“I like a healthy splash of cream, Theo. I would’ve thought you knew that by now.” She blinked innocently as she gulped it down while I tried not to choke on my own tongue. I reminded myself that this was not a sprint and offering to bend her over the kitchen counter was likely not the proper response here. Courting Alba Serena Duarte was a test in endurance. Still, I was only human.

I leaned in just enough that our faces were inches apart. “I would be more than happy to supply you with more, you just have to ask.” She laughed but didn’t take the bait. She didn’t say no either, so I took it as a win.

“What are you reading?” I was hoping to distract myself from the way she kept licking her lips after every sip. I was also low-key curious about what she was reading, now that I knew what books meant to her. She slid her gaze from her screen and trained it in my direction.

“A romance novel.” She said it with a little bit of sass, arching an eyebrow like she expected this to turn into a verbal sparring session.

“Is that your favorite thing to read?” I was genuinely curious. “Not that I’m judging,” I said, when she narrowed her eyes at me. “When she was still here my mother dated a guy who taught English at Columbia for a couple of years.” I grimaced in distaste recalling that unfortunate part of my mother’s dating history. “He constantly would lecture us about what one read being ‘serious business.’” I twitched my fingers like he used to do. God, that guy was an asshole. “Romance novels were his favorite thing to trash. He was the biggest prick I’ve ever met.” She rolled her eyes, seemingly unimpressed, and considered me as she took a pull from her green juice.

“He sounds terrible.” She made a face, clearly put off by the man’s snobby opinions on reading. “To answer your question, they’re definitely one of my favorite things to read. I like that messy, flawed people still get to have an epic love story. It’s hopeful and comforting, and hot as fuck. There is very little in my life that’s as reliable as a good romance novel.” It didn’t sit right that this woman who took on so much every day had to look for safety in books because her life felt so precarious. I didn’t like the thought of her walking around feeling like the other shoe would drop at any moment. I was also extremely aware that me even implying I could help in any way would get me shot down in a hot second.

I tipped the cup I’d just picked off the cabinet in her direction. “What’s this one about?”