“Yes… Yes, I am. I’m sure we’ll have more than enough of each other in ten weeks. So I want that too. I don’t like the whats and ifs. Longing for something that can’t happen irritates me.”
Yes.
No. I don’t want him out.
“All right…”
His voice rolls over the words like a quiet stream over the boulders.
“Uh… There’s something else,” he says. “I wanted to give you something. That’s why I’m here more than anything else,” he says, reaching inside his pocket and pulling something out.
My curiosity gets the best of me, so I open his fist. A small ring gleams in his hand.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Remember the night when we met the cops?”
I look at him.
“Yes.”
“Remember what I told that man?”
“You made up a story about a ring.”
“Yes, I did. But I had this ring with me. It was for you. I picked it up when I bought your dresses. I didn’t think much about it. I just liked it. And I thought I’d buy it for you. I didn’t know how to give it to you,” he says, sliding it onto my finger. “It was awkward to slip it into one of the boxes, so I had it in my pocket. The only true thing about it was that I wanted to give it to you that evening. And then the cops arrived, and I told them that story and missed the opportunity.”
He laughs while I look at the narrow band adorned with tiny diamonds. It looks less assuming than a wedding or an engagement ring, and it pairs well with Alejandro’s necklace, but it’s still an expensive piece.
“Why did you miss the opportunity?” I ask, raising my eyes to him.
He leans back and props himself on his hands, his chiseled chest pushing against his taunt skin.
“The cop didn’t want to see it, and you were convinced the ring was part of the story. So, I thought it was better to forget about it. I had forgotten about it. And then I found it this evening, and I wanted you to have it. Regardless of what happens with all of us, it’s yours. From me.”
I tip my eyes down and look at it, a lump forming in my throat.
“I love it,” I say. “Thank you.”
I move my eyes to him and my hand to his face before pressing my lips against his.
The smell of aftershave scents my lips.
Reluctantly, I break away from him.
“Okay, then. I should get going,” he says, rising to his feet.
“Yes… Sure.”
I push up as well and show him to the door.
Silently, I open the door and look at him.
He hesitates for a second, unsure what to do, and then he turns to me, and the door falls closed while my towel drops to the floor.
My hair and his arms drape around me while his lips come to mine.
What a difference from the man who was in the room with all of us this evening. Despite him turning me on at the bar with his story and later initiating sex in my hotel room, that man was nothing like this man.