3
Isa
The sun hit my face in a crash of warmth the moment we stepped out of the airport, lugging our bags behind us. If Chicago hadn't been warm before we'd left, I might have collapsed into a puddle with the joy I felt in that moment.
The air didn't sting my face, and I didn't have to suffer through the cold weather without a jacket.
There was only sunshine and blue sky as I tipped my head up to search for clouds. Not a single one lingered on the horizon, nothing to taunt me with the promise of dreary weather lurking around the corner. The breeze was practically nonexistent, but it smelled like saltwater.
I'd never understood what people meant by that scent. Having never been near the ocean before, I wouldn't have thought I'd understand it so instinctively. But there was no doubt in my mind that was what it was.
"How does it smell like the ocean and pine trees all at the same time?" Chloe asked. I realized she was right when I drew in another deep lungful of island air.
"The beauty of Ibiza," Hugo said with a grin. "When we get away from the airport, you'll smell the almond flowers too. It's just...Ibiza," he said, exhaling a huge breath as he closed his eyes and tipped his head up to the sun above. "It's good to be home."
"I can't imagine whatever possessed you to come to Chicago. If this is what it's like all the time, then I never want to leave," I joked, stepping out of the way when a large crowd of travelers came out of the airport behind us.
"You could always stay," Hugo said with a shrug, but his eyes turned sad as he tilted his face away from mine. The reminder that the end of the trip meant the end of seeing him every day plagued me.
"Where are your parents?" I asked to change the conversation.
"Oh, they aren't coming," he said, rubbing the back of his neck the way he did whenever I said something that made him uncomfortable. "They're really traditional. People aren't allowed to visit our house, so the program booked us a couple of hotel rooms in Ibiza Town for the week instead."
"They what?" I furrowed my brow at him, opening my mouth to say something when Joaquin interrupted.
"Trust me, it's better this way. You don't want to meet them unless you absolutely have to," he said, stepping toward one of the two black SUVs waiting at the curb. I followed him, only halting when Hugo caught my arm in his grip and pulled me toward the second vehicle.
"We aren't going together?"
He shook his head, a note of sadness in his face as he studied me. "Joaquin and Gabriel are going home."
"Oh," Chloe said. The smile dropped off her face while she watched them load their bags into the back and turn to us. The moment was awkward at best. I wouldn't say that I'd gotten close to either of Hugo's brothers, as they kept their distance from us most of the time, but still the knowledge that I may never see them again was like a prick to my heart.
A foreshadowing of the pain that would come when I lost Hugo.
Gabriel stepped forward, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug as tears stung my eyes. "Get into some trouble while you're here, yeah?" he asked, resting his chin on top of my head.
"Yeah," I said with a sniffle, drawing back to look at Joaquin.
He surprised me when he sighed, stepping forward and hugging me in the same way his brother had. He stared down at me when he pulled back, wiping a tear off my cheek. "Head high,mi reina. It will be over before you know it."
He stepped back, keeping his eyes on mine while he and Gabriel climbed into the back of the SUV without another word. It pulled off, and I looked over to Hugo to find him studying me intently.
"That bastard didn't even say goodbye!" Chloe protested as Hugo sprung into motion suddenly. He grabbed our bags, loading them into the other vehicle while I watched Joaquin and Gabriel drive away.
Until they faded to nothing but a memory.
* * *
By the time the car service dropped us off at the hotel, I was ready to collapse into a puddle on the closest bed.
Chloe had other ideas as she practically danced her way into the boutique hotel with her suitcase swaying behind her as she walked. Hugo stepped up to the concierge, speaking Spanish with the man behind the desk while he checked us in.
"Señorita," a man from behind the desk said as he stepped around. He reached back over, grabbing two postcard-sized sheets off his desk. He held them out to Chloe and me, and I took the thick cardstock in my hand. The champagne invitation sparkled in the light with gold paint that dripped down it so luxuriously I touched it with a finger to see if it was still wet.
It felt like liquid sin, as my fingers slid over the glossy surface.
"Our sister hotel is hosting an exclusive party tonight. I'm certain the guests would love to see you there," he said. I turned my eyes up to his, meeting his brown stare as I tried to hand the invite back to him.