CHAPTER EIGHT DIEGO #2
Rounding the table just as she plants the fork in the cake, I stand behind her and cage her in by placing my palms on either side of the plate.
The back of her head collides with my chest as I lean forward, her breath hitching the moment my hand wraps around her wrist. I bring the fork to my mouth, the sweet taste of my favorite dessert making a soft moan vibrate in my throat.
Alara is completely immobile as I pry myself away and sit on the chair Gaby has just vacated. My palms are suddenly clammy and my heart is drumming at an alarming pace, but I refuse to show how nervous she makes me, so I smirk.
“Sorry.” Except she’s not sorry at all. Especially not as she takes another bite. I’m unable to do anything but watch her lips wrapped around the fork – right where mine were mere seconds ago.
“No, you’re not.”
She smiles easily – I like that about her. When she slides the plate toward me with one third of the slice left, I feel a rush of warmth dance inside my chest. Everything she does feels like a speck of light that’s trying to revive every dead, darkened part of me. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
I know she’s lying, but I don’t call her out on it because the day I refuse tres leches is the day I go mad.
She puts an elbow on the edge of the table and leans her chin on the palm of her hand, silently observing me stuff my face. I fucking love it when her whole attention is on me. But what I don’t really like is the way she always seems to be studying me. Trying to catch a glimpse of my true self.
And I can’t help it – my walls tend to crumble when I’m in her vicinity.
“So, what brings you here?” I ask. “Missing me already?”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she jests. “I came to hang out with Gaby, but since you’re here . . .”
I push the empty plate away, lean back in my chair, and lace my fingers behind my head.
I don’t miss the way her eyes linger on my biceps and my bare forearms. Who knew this woman’s gaze could feel like sparks, leaving a residue tingling at the base of my spine and threatening to warm my entire body?
“I’m all ears.”
Alara shows me the screen of her phone, and my eyes widen so comically that I wonder if they’re going to pop out of their sockets.
I’m looking at the video we shot two days ago – a compilation of mini clips of me wearing different pairs of goggles.
The transitions are in sync with the beat of the music, and I have to admit that Alara has done an amazing job at bringing her idea to life.
But what astonishes me the most is the number of views the video has generated – one point seven million.
Ever since I came back to town, I have avoided my socials like the plague.
Every post I see, every article I open, mentions my reckless stunt and injury.
Sure, most comments and messages I get are encouraging ones that wish me a speedy recovery, but I can’t stand being pitied.
I haven’t answered a single one, let alone opened one.
Besides, my friends and teammates are all training. I don’t want to torture myself by watching them shoot drills at practice while the only thing I’m allowed to do is look at a snowboard.
“Holy shit,” I whisper – a combination of shock and awe weaving through those two words.
Alara is smiling widely when I look up at her. “Didn’t I tell you it would work?”
“I think we were just lucky with the algorithm.”
“Maybe, but you don’t have to be humble. You know the video did amazingly because of you.”
I shake my head in disbelief, staring again at the screen where the video plays in loop.
I had fun shooting the clips with Alara.
We filmed in front of the wall lined up with snowboards once the store was closed, shooting sequence after sequence and sometimes doing it again if she wasn’t convinced.
It was like there was just us both in this cosmos and the outside world didn’t matter.
I wouldn’t mind doing it again.
“This is madness, Alara,” I murmur, grinning.
She nods. The pure joy brightening her eyes makes my chest tighten with something I can’t bring myself to fathom. “Our numbers have gone up so fast. I checked Rock Snow’s online orders and I’ve never seen so many emails.”
“Good job, team.” We high five, my palm tingling after the brief contact.
“A lot of comments are women asking for your social handles, though.”
“Oh, yeah?” Honestly, good thing I deactivated my notifications.
I don’t want to get overwhelmed by my number of followers increasing and my private messages being flooded with girls seeking my attention.
Taking part in the video was to help Alara and Rock Snow, not for my own benefit.
I seriously couldn’t care less about gaining more popularity.
“Are you that surprised?”
“You calling me good-looking, Alara?”
“I’m calling you conceited,” she fires back, which makes me bark out a laugh. “Anyway, I’m here to make you an offer.”
I shift in my seat, folding my forearms on the table and giving her my undivided attention. I like that, even if she blushes, she holds my gaze. “I had a feeling. Tell me about it.”
“I want you to be the face of Rock Snow. Dad is willing to raise your salary if you agree to appear in most of my posts. We’ll switch between shooting videos and taking simple pictures, but I think you’re a natural in front of cameras.
Besides, you’re a local, so what’s better than having our town’s snowboard prodigy to help us promote our brand?
And think about it – it could be beneficial for you too.
Coach Wilson mentioned something to my dad about you needing to give back to the community, so this could be part of your duty. It’s a win–win situation.”
Fuck, she’s cute and convincing and hot.
I was going to say yes either way. But I like the way she’s sitting up slightly taller, her chin lifted with conviction and determination. I like that she had her arguments ready even though I’d have bowed at her feet at the first question – okay, dramatic, but true.
I shrug, nonchalant. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
“Really?” Her face brightens like she’s been exposed to the first ray of sunshine after a rainy season.
I can’t help but mirror her delight. “Positive. I’ll even do it for free.”
Because if it means seeing Alara smile like that? If it means making her happy? I’ll do just about anything to make her feel this way every single day. And if it helps me from getting stuck with my tormenting thoughts? Then I’ll do whatever it takes to feel better – to feel free.