“He dejado una cafetera preparada,” Charo chimed behind me. She had prepared coffee for me. That could only mean one thing: she was up to something. “Está ahí, mujer. En la encimera.” Coffee was on the countertop.
With my back still to her, I muttered my thanks and proceeded to pour some black goodness in a mug.
Much to the displeasure of my hungover head—but not any surprise—she continued with her monologue before I could even take the first sip.
“Hay suficiente para ti y para tu novio.” There was enough coffee for me and my boyfriend, she told me. “Imagino que no tardará en despertarse ¿no? Oye si quieres ir a llamarle para que no se enfríe el café …” Charo continued.
If she was trying to get me to go fetch Aaron so the coffee she
had prepared wouldn’t get cold, she had another thing coming. The coffee would spontaneously turn into ice cubes before I willingly went back inside that room.
“Menuda sensación ha causado en la familia. Tu madre no podía parar de …” And then she proceeded to tell me about when and how and what had been said about my—fake—boyfriend, Aaron, in the mere twenty-four hours he’d been in the country.
Which had been a lot, considering the short amount of time.
That was exactly why having Charo sharing accommodations with us was so dangerous. She had no social filters of any kind and no regard for privacy. I was genuinely shocked she wasn’t plundering herself into our room and taking my fake boyfriend out of bed, so she could continue her perusal.
Charo’s chatter kept filling the kitchen as I nodded my head absently. “Y justo como le dije a tu madre, llegará un día en el que Lina tendrá que superar lo de Daniel.” Just how I told your mom, one day, Lina will have to get over Daniel. “Sino se va a quedar para vestir santos y …”
Jesus, my cousin had just used that Spanish expression I hated so much. The one I had heard directed at me more than once, always muttered or whispered, or just like she had done, loud and clear. Se va a quedar para vestir santos. Which literally translated to something about dressing saints and meant that I’d stay single and dedicate my life to God for the rest of my life.
Feeling completely defenseless, standing all alone with my cousin, I couldn’t decide if sleepy Aaron was a blessing or a curse anymore. Yesterday, when he had been with me, facing Charo, my sister, Daniel, and everybody else, it had been unexpectedly easier than doing that now.
I realized now that as much as I had brought him to Spain with that particular purpose, I had never truly expected that it would work. Or that we’d become a team. That he’d instill strength in me—even if I’d use it to lie to my family—or that he’d make me feel like I wasn’t alone in this.
And the scariest, most terrifying part was that all that was starting to bleed through the lines that defined our deal. In a little over a day.
The proof was last night. We had almost kissed. We had done more than just that. More than practicing or pretending.
Crazy. It was crazy, but it was also true. I was honest enough to admit that to myself.
But that didn’t mean I was brave enough to acknowledge it out loud. I was still the coward who had walk-of-shamed her way out of that room like her ass was on fire before I was forced to have a conversation.
And I’d do that again.
Aaron would soon become my boss, and that would change everything. Having him here—in Spain, in my home country, attending my sister’s wedding as my fake date—was already dangerous. It was reason enough for me to shake in my boots at the prospect of someone at work finding out. It didn’t have anything to do with a weird company policy or with me having a pet peeve. I had already been involved with someone where a supervisory relationship between us had existed, where I had not been the one in the position of authority. And where had that led me? To being the only one having to deal with the dirty and poisonous tongues that hadn’t thought twice before stigmatizing me and everything I had worked so hard for. Just for what? For a few laughs? For pointing a few fingers? For bringing me down, so they’d feel a little better?
History could repeat itself, and this time, I would be the one to blame. It would be me who had tripped over the same stone for a second time. This time, I’d be jeopardizing my career, too, not just the credibility of my work, my reputation as a woman, or my social life. And it would all be on me.
Taking another sip of coffee from my mug, I tried to shove all that aside.
Whatever I thought was going on between Aaron and me would have to … not go. Anywhere.
Because it couldn’t. It wouldn’t. And it was all a lie anyway.
As if the very devil was being summoned by Charo, who kept talking about him, or by me, who kept thinking about him one way or the other, Aaron materialized in the kitchen. His eyes immediately found me, as if I were the only thing between these four walls.
My mug froze midair. My lips parted, and my gaze was hungry to take all of him in. But how could I not? The simple tee that covered his broad chest did nothing to hide a body I now knew had been carefully cultivated to perfection for years. Decades. Those loose pajama pants I had seen hanging low on his hips last night still did. Enticing me. Making me think of how he had pressed those hips into me with painfully delicious softness.
But it was the look on his face that started—no, rekindled—the fluttering sensation in the pit of my stomach. His features were seemingly snug with sleep, relaxed, and his hair was adorably ruffled. But his eyes … well, there wasn’t a trace of sleep there. They told a whole different story. One I had the strong suspicion was extremely similar to the one bubbling in mine.
And that only encouraged the flutter to take flight and spread to the rest of my body.
Averting my gaze before all this gawking and daydreaming damaged my brain, I forced my lungs to take in the oxygen my body seemed to need in that moment.
“Ay!” Charo’s screech made me flinch. “Mira quién está aquí! Good morning, Aaron. We were just talking about you.”
Peeking at Aaron, I saw his eyes widen and then quickly return to its normal size.