I am tanned too, but not like him.
My stare must’ve registered with him as he glances over his shoulder, and our eyes connect briefly.
He seems in a good mood, his eyes holding a grin while he says something on his phone.
His words don’t register with me. I wonder if he’s going to keep me here, waiting and if that’s the case if it’d be better to just go into the other room or walk onto the terrace.
I’m about to do that when he pushes off the kitchen island and turns to me, still agreeing with that person on the phone, his eyes smiling, although I can’t tell if his grin is related to his dialogue or my presence here.
He ends his phone conversation abruptly and slides his phone onto the kitchen counter.
“Hey…” he says casually before moving to the cupboard, not waiting for a response. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks as if me being here is the most natural thing in the world.
As if it didn’t take some planning and investigative work to find him.
I don’t even know where to start.
‘I didn’t think you were still here?’
‘Cardenas said you two had a meeting?’
‘Where were you yesterday? And Saturday night?’
‘Why did you leave me on Cardenas’ yacht?’
‘Why the hell did you facilitate that deal with Cardenas if you knew you wouldn’t like it? Or my getting close to Francisco and Alejandro?’
I’d sigh if I could.
No matter what I think about what I want to ask him, I keep my mouth shut.
Maybe this is a normal development after all?
Maybe us––Alejandro, Francisco, and I––coming to grips with our growing feelings for each other is exactly what he wanted.
Yes, he put out a statement by leaving, oh so dramatically.
But didn’t he say we’d all know if one of us caught feelings?
We’ve all caught feelings, obviously, hence the friction and the tension, but are we at the point where we’re willing to check ourselves out?
The quick answer is no.
He seems fine.
Alejandro and Francisco, despite what Alejandro had said about forgetting about our feelings, also seemed fine.
More than fine.
We fucked like people crazy in lust with each other, not like people about to make a one-in-a-lifetime confession.
Why am I so surprised we are where we are?
I shouldn’t be. All of it has been written in our story. We can’t get to the finish line without going through these moments.
And have I ever thought about how that moment would be?
What would happen if one of them or even I had reached the point of no return? The moment when having fun would no longer be fun. And sharing would no longer be possible.