Pure Belleza | ✔️

(88)

Max sent the group text a photo of him and Amalia standing at the front door of their new apartment in Barcelona.

It would take a while to sink in that Max isn't in New York anymore. His apartment is vacant and we won't get to see him as often as I'm used to. Still, there's no ignoring how happy he looks in this photo.

Mom, sitting next to me on the deck, wrapped in a thin cashmere throw, smiles when I aim my phone screen at her. Dusk is settling in, the garden lights are beginning to flicker and cicadas chirp, the sound of a mild autumn evening.

"Roman is a great guy," mom says, pulling her throw tighter around her shoulders as she looks out at Roman and dad in the back garden.

The tiny house is being built in the next few weeks and Roman asked for the intricate details of our building plan. Dad of course, was excited to explain his grand vision and dragged him down into the corner of the yard. The two of them were walking around on the grass, dad pointing and Roman nodding along with interest.

"He is great," I agree, watching with a flutter in my stomach as Roman slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and starts back towards the deck with dad.

I never thought I would be so attracted to someone in a plaid flannel but he wears the hell out of it. His white T-shirt underneath has a V neck and exposes the top of his sun kissed smooth chest.

"OSB is cheaper but I get the feeling that's not a major issue," Roman says to dad, the two of them settling into seats on the other side of the outdoor table. "It's heavier and less durable too."

"Standard plywood then?" Dad asks.

"Your builder will suggest the same thing, I'm sure."

Dad gives him a slow nod and reaches for the beer he left on the table earlier. There's pizza coming, and we decided to have a casual Friday night in.

"We discussed folding doors too," dad says, leaning back in his chair. "Have them open right up."

"Abby said you've got those at the beach house in Hermosa," Roman says.

With his long legs spread under the table, my feet can't help brushing his calf and I catch his lip twitch.

I do it with more intention this time, sliding my fluffy socked foot up the inside of his leg. He folds his arms and swallows, focusing on my dad.

"Yeah we're a fan of the open plan concept," dad and mom share a look of agreement.

"Perfect for a tiny house," Roman says as I rest my foot on his seat, right in between his legs. He casually slips a hand down his front and rests it across the top of my foot. "What about a deck on the front? You end up creating the illusion of so much space if you put folding doors on the front of the house and have an indoor, outdoor transition. Throw in a couple of folding windows and again, more space. I think that's the aim with those little houses."

"I like that idea," I say while Roman's thumb moves in slow, absentminded strokes on the bottom of my foot. "I wouldn't mind a window bay with a folding window."

"We can do that," dad tells me. "You're going to have to be sure about the details before we start though. Once it's built, it's built."

"Mhmm," I know, I say, slouching back in my chair. Roman watches me from across the table, his brown waves of hair peeping out from under his cap.