Chapter 42
Two Days Until the Wedding
“How’s your hot billionaire?” Michelle asked Ava as the two of them left their waxing appointment at the Bellísima spa. The
Primas of Power had flown to Puerto Rico early to make sure everything was going according to plan.
Ava huffed out a breath. “He’s not a billionaire.”
Michelle smirked. “Oh, just a lowly millionaire? My bad.”
Between Roman’s work and travel schedule, Ava’s back to school prep, and last minute pre-wedding tasks, they hadn’t seen each
other in person since the bridal shower. Missing him was a constant ache, but the distance made it easier to pretend she wasn’t
hiding a big secret from Jasmine.
“Shit or get off the pot, Ava,” Michelle muttered.
“I’ll tell Jas eventually,” Ava hissed back. “She has enough going on.”
There had been a mistake with the wedding favors Jasmine and Ashton had chosen—cutting boards shaped like the island of Puerto Rico with their names carved into them. Somehow, two-thirds of the boards read “Jashmine,” and no one had caught it until Jasmine opened all the boxes, which had been delivered to the resort. As a last minute replacement, Roman had offered flask-size bottles of a Casa Donato small-batch rum blend, and Jasmine was currently working with Belinda “De Bellísima” Barrios and Joaquín Donato to design custom labels that commemorated the wedding.
The bachelor and bachelorette parties were happening that night, the rehearsal would take place tomorrow, and the day after
that, Ashton and Jasmine would walk down the aisle as husband and wife.
Ava and her mother were taking a quick trip to Barbados after the wedding to visit Patricia’s relatives. Ava hadn’t seen her
other grandparents or cousins in a few years, and as Patricia had said, “It’ll be good for you to remember you have another
family.”
Ava knew Roman was arriving in a few hours, too, and he would be staying at the resort instead of his house. Her heart twisted
when she remembered the wonderful nights they’d spent there, cut off from the world and completely absorbed in each other.
Waking up in bed next to him, sharing meals, swimming in the evenings, and doing the New York Times crossword puzzle in the mornings.
She wanted that back, the no-phones unfettered access to Roman without a care for what anyone else in their lives did or didn’t
want.
They’d called and texted over the last couple weeks, but it hadn’t been the same. She missed kissing him, touching him, falling asleep with her head on his shoulder. She missed the way he asked her what she wanted and listened intently, as if filing away the answer in his permanent memory banks. She missed hearing about the fascinating trajectory his work life had taken, and brainstorming ideas with him for chapters of his book. She even missed the flirty way he negotiated with her, ever the businessman.
She missed everything about him.
It was only going to get worse once the school year started. Then she’d be working all day and grading or lesson planning
at night and on the weekends. Just the thought of it made her cringe.
As if reading her mind, Michelle asked, “Ready for the upcoming school year?”
Ava groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Michelle lowered her voice to an ominous tone. “ September is coming .”
That drew out a huff of laughter. “My students aren’t a horde of ice zombies,” Ava said, then sighed. “But Mr. Gunderson might
as well be.”
Michelle’s expression turned serious. “Still no answer?”
Ava shook her head. She’d been emailing the principal for weeks about implementing her proposed drama program, hoping this
year would finally be the one where he made good on his promise, but he had yet to reply.
That in itself was an answer, she supposed.
“Alliance isn’t the only school in the city,” Michelle offered, and Ava shrugged. Thanks to recent budget cuts to the Board
of Education, she didn’t have much hope of teaching drama anywhere else.
All she wanted to do was introduce New York City kids to the magic of theater. Why was it so freaking hard?
Her phone rang, and Ava glanced at the screen with a sigh. “It’s Abuela.”
“Don’t answer.”
“I have to.” Ava picked up. Her grandmother immediately launched into a tirade about something Titi Nereida had done, and
Ava struggled to keep up. Not because Esperanza was speaking rapid-fire Spanish, but because she was referencing something
that seemed to have happened sixty years ago.
Michelle backed away and mouthed, “I’ll see you later.”
Ava waved to her, then attempted to interrupt her grandmother. “All right, Bwela. I’ll be right there.”
She hung up and headed to her grandparents’ room to do damage control.
By the time she returned to her own room later that evening—a suite she was sharing with her mother, thanks to an unexpected
upgrade from Roman—Ava had helped put out fires for Esperanza, Olympia, Tío Luisito, and Ronnie’s stepdaughter.
After a quick shower and a refresh of her curls, Ava got ready for the bachelorette party in record time.
“You look beautiful, honey,” her mom said when Ava walked into the living room area to meet her.
Ava felt her cheeks heat, but she accepted the compliment with a smile. “Thanks.”
She felt beautiful. Her “New Ava” edict to feel more confident in her own skin had taken hold, and she’d chosen a sleeveless emerald
green sequined dress that came up to her neck but left her back bare. The skirt was tight and ended mid-thigh. She usually
wore flared skirts to camouflage her hips, but tonight, she was embracing her curves.
Her makeup was light, save for a velvety plum lipstick, and she’d twisted her hair into an updo that left a riot of spirals cascading over the top of her head, with a few meticulously chosen tendrils trailing down around her face. Since a party bus would be transporting the guests, she wore black stilettos that put her at six feet tall.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this pretty. And it felt good .
While Patricia retrieved her purse, Ava snapped a selfie in the long mirror by the suite’s door and texted it to Roman.
Ava: Maybe I’ll see you tonight after the parties?
He replied thirty seconds later. First the heart-eyes emoji, then one word:
Roman: Maybe.
Followed by a winky-face.
Slipping her phone back into her slim black clutch, Ava indulged in a dreamy smile before her mother returned. The guys were
going to a bar in Old San Juan for Ashton’s bachelor party, and she hoped they’d be back early enough for her to sneak away
to see Roman. Otherwise, it was going to be hell not being able to touch him for the next two days because her family was
around.
Patricia joined her, and they left the room and headed for the buses parked out front.
Michelle had organized the bachelorette party. All Ava knew was that they’d rented out a small venue at one of the neighboring
resorts, and that a group called “The Adonis Experience” would be performing.
Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Ava had looked them up. The Adonis Experience was a highly-rated male stripper revue with a female emcee. For her own bachelorette party, Ava had chosen to do a wine tour of the Hudson Valley, which Jasmine had organized. It had poured for part of the day, she remembered. But by the time they reached the third vineyard, the sun had come out and everyone had danced drunkenly the whole bus ride home. It was probably the only thing that Hector or Olympia hadn’t ruined.
For some reason, finding a nice memory related to her own wedding experience eased an ache she hadn’t known she carried.
Huh. Something to examine more closely later.
“You sure about this?” Michelle asked Jasmine as the Primas of Power stood in front of the resort’s main entrance, supervising
the loading of the buses. Jasmine had decided at the last minute to invite not just her friends and cousins, but her aunts,
mother, and grandmothers. They’d had to order a second bus.
“Why not?” Jasmine said. “It’ll be fun.”
She wore a white strapless jumpsuit with loose pants that laced up the back. Her dark hair fell in perfectly styled waves
around her bare shoulders, and a twinkly little tiara with a short veil sat on top of her head.
Michelle shrugged. “If you say so.”
Michelle was wearing black high-waisted short shorts with a black bralette covered only by a sparkly mesh crop top. Her black
hair was pulled into a high ponytail. A tattoo featuring a stylized black cat sitting in a crescent moon made of flowers was
visible on her forearm.
“We look like we’re going to three different parties,” Ava observed.
“Maybe, but we also look extremely hot,” Michelle replied.
Jasmine turned to Ava. “I wanted to ask you—”
Before she could finish, Titi Lisa came running over with her phone. “Smile, girls!”
Ava and Michelle posed on either side of Jasmine, mugging for the camera until Jasmine’s mom was satisfied. Then Michelle
grabbed Jasmine’s arm and hustled her onto the first bus. “Time to go!”
Jasmine looked over her shoulder but Ava waved her off.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the latecomers get on the other bus.”
Ava was in charge of the second party bus, which contained most of their older relatives. Two long padded benches lined both
sides of the bus, with coolers tucked under the windows, a bathroom at the back, and, interestingly enough, a pole.
It was a short ride, but the women had found the chilled champagne bottles before Ava had gotten on, and they were all drinking
expensive bubbly through penis-shaped straws in neon colors, courtesy of Ronnie. Abuela and Titi Nereida were giggling about
“plátanos,” an obvious euphemism. Titi Val and Ava’s mom were reminiscing about the last time they had gone to a strip club,
and Ava decided that there were some things she didn’t need to know. She carefully made her way toward the back of the bus
to chat with Jasmine’s Filipina cousins from California, and counted her blessings that Olympia wasn’t arriving until tomorrow.
The venue was located in the lower level of the other resort. The air conditioner pumped out cool air, and the room smelled
like liquor and citrus. A low, square stage jutted out from one end of the room, and a long bar lined the other end. Rows
of chairs faced three sides of the stage, with the one front and center decorated with white and gold balloons and a banner
that read, “Bride’s Last Ride.”
Jasmine walked in, saw the sign, and covered her face. “Oh my god, Ronnie.”
Behind her, Ronnie wagged a finger in the air. “Don’t blame it on me! That was all Michelle.”
“Only because I thought ‘last hoedown’ was tacky,” Michelle said breezily. “Come on, Sister Bachelorette, time to take a seat.”
Jasmine followed her, then came to a halt when she saw the other side of the chair. She let out a laughing groan.
Ava came around her to see what was so funny. A pillow waited on Jasmine’s chair, embroidered with the words, “Bach That Ass
Up.”
“You would not believe how many terrible bachelorette puns there are,” Michelle said gleefully.
The partygoers got drinks, either from the open bar or the wait staff rotating around the room. When the lights dimmed, they
took their seats. Jasmine sat in her decorated chair, with Ava and Michelle on either side of her. Patricia sat on Ava’s other
side, and various family members filed around them.
Music continued to play in the background, and everyone chatted until the spotlight came on. The room fell quiet as a short,
curvy woman entered stage right. She was pale, with brown hair held back in a low ponytail and tastefully done stage makeup.
She was dressed all in black—blazer, slacks, heels—except for a sparkling silver bustier top. She carried a glittery silver
microphone.
“Hello, my lovelies!” The emcee’s voice was rich and resonant, with a playful lilt. “How are we tonight?”
In response, there were whoops and cheers and a “Wepa!” or three.
“I’m your host, Taylor Tirado.” Taylor ambled around the stage as she spoke conversationally into the mic. “My boys and I have come all the way to the enchanting island of Puerto Rico to celebrate our beautiful bride-to-be. Let’s make some noise for Jasmine!”
The crowd, already well on their way to getting drunk, cheered raucously.
“Jasmine and Ashton had a bit of a storybook romance, am I right? The classic tale of girl meets boy, boy films TV show with
girl, and girl and boy become Hollywood’s latest power couple.”
Everyone laughed, and when Ava glanced over at Jasmine, she saw her cousin was smiling. There were a lot of ways that sentence
could have gone—boy hides secret child, girl becomes media scapegoat—but Ava guessed Michelle had signed off on the script,
so there wouldn’t be anything offensive.
Unless this was a roast. You never knew with Michelle.
Oh well, it was too late to worry about that now.
On stage, Taylor continued giving a humorous account of Jasmine’s romance with Ashton, along with references to their acting
roles. The crowd seemed entertained, and Jasmine took it well. After a couple minutes, Taylor came to a stop at the center
of the stage.
“Now, Jasmine,” she said. “I know you love Ashton and you’re ready to make the ‘same dick every day’ commitment. But before
you ride off into the sunset for your happily-ever-after, we want to ensure you’ve made the right choice. To help you out, I’ve brought along a selection of extremely eligible bachelors. Come on out, boys!”
The music rose, Adam Lambert’s cover of “Holding Out for a Hero.” The lights went dark, save for a single spotlight on Taylor,
standing in the center.
“Tonight, The Adonis Experience brings you... The Bachelorette Experience,” Taylor said over the music. Around her, several men ran out and took their places around the edge of the stage, standing with their backs to the audience. There were three men lining the front of the stage, and two on each of the sides. “Each one is a romantic fantasy come to life. Jasmine, are you ready to meet your bachelors?”
“Yes!” Jasmine yelled, and all the guests woo -ed.
“Let’s meet our first Adonis!” Taylor waved her arm in a flourish and a spotlight fell on one of the men standing downstage
stage right. The angle of the lighting made it hard to decipher any details other than his physique and attire. He had broad
shoulders and a trim waist, and he was dressed like a cowboy, complete with hat, boots, and chaps.
Taylor provided the introduction with a tongue-in-cheek tone. “This rough and tumble rancher is looking for a little filly
to ride all night long .”
Her words were met with catcalls and cheers. The man mimed galloping on a horse and spinning a lasso.
“Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” Titi Val called out from behind Ava.
Michelle turned around with wide eyes and a delighted expression. “Mom! Show some decorum.”
Valentina stuck her tongue out at her youngest daughter.
The spotlight over the cowboy fell dark and one on the other side of the stage lit up, highlighting a slender blond man in
a long black coat with dark sunglasses. He executed a series of fluid dance moves like he was at a rave.
“This creature of the night is a perfect gentleman,” Taylor said, then waited a beat. “He’ll ask for permission before he
comes inside .”
Howls of laughter from the audience. The vampire turned his head and snapped his teeth.
Jasmine bounced in her seat. “This is so fucking corny, I love it!”
Now the spotlight was on a tall, burly man with long hair, dressed in a blousy white shirt and a green tartan kilt with a
matching sash.
“This Highland warrior will let you see what’s under his kilt... if you can sheath his sword !”
The man in the kilt held the sword at his waist in a two-handed grip. He mimicked stabbing with a thrust of his hips.
Now the light fell on a man in a sports jersey and a helmet.
“This athletic beefcake is raring to get his stick in there and score a goal .”
The guy pretended to hump his hockey stick. The crowd ate it up.
Someone grabbed Ava’s shoulder and she jumped, half-expecting to see a hunky hockey player behind her, but it was her grandmother.
“He’s cute,” Esperanza yelled over the music and cheers. “I’ll get his number for you!”
“No, thank you!” Ava yelled back.
The spotlight landed on the man standing closest to Ava, gilding the edges of his sharp gray suit. His build was similar to
Roman’s, and between that and his costume, Ava was hit with a pang of longing.
Taylor supplied the intro. “This X-rated executive will show you who’s the boss... in the bedroom .”
The man shot his cuffs in an exaggerated fashion before turning the motion into a pop and lock sequence.
Opening her clutch, Ava pulled out her phone to see if Roman had texted again, but Taylor’s next words made her pause.
“This adorable boy next door is all grown up and ready to take your friendship to the next level .”
Ava’s eyes flew to the stage, where a spotlight shone on a brawny guy in casual attire—a Yankees jersey, jeans, Tims, and
a fitted cap pulled low over his face.
Boy next...? Wait a second.
Ava squinted, first at the guy flexing in the spotlight, then back at the one in a suit, standing motionless in the shadows.
Her hand flew to her mouth, but before she could fully make sense of what she was thinking, the spotlight switched to the
man standing directly in front of Jasmine. He wore a tuxedo and carried a single red rose in his hand.
“This red-carpet ready thespian likes to do it on camera ,” Taylor said with a wink-wink nudge-nudge.
To Ava’s left, Jasmine let out an audible gasp.
“He’ll read your body like a script and cast you as the lead in all his fantasies.”
The man turned around to face the audience, revealing what Ava had already suspected. Jasmine let out an ear-splitting shriek.
It was Ashton.
The stage lights went up, and sure enough, Ashton was flanked by Boy-Next-Door Gabe and Roman the “X-rated Executive.” In
addition to the gray suit, Roman wore a pair of fake glasses without lenses.
Ava’s pulse beat thickly in her veins as their eyes met. Roman gave her the quickest little wink, and then he was looking
away, casting that confident smile over the audience like he hung out on a stage with male strippers every day.
Jasmine turned to Michelle with tears streaming down her face. “Did you know?”
Michelle’s grin was smug. “Whose brilliant idea do you think this was?”
Jasmine sobbed as she stared up at her fiancé. “This is the best night of my life!”
Michelle gave a triumphant fist pump. Around them, the bachelorette party guests hollered. Someone—it sounded like Ronnie’s
mom, Titi Nita—yelled, “Take it off, Ashton!” His head whipped around and he broke character for a second as his eyes landed
on the row of people sitting behind his fiancée—namely her mother, grandmothers, and all her aunts.
Ava stifled a laugh at the look of abject horror on his face, and suddenly Michelle’s dubiousness from earlier made sense.
Ava would bet her meager savings that no one had told him about the expanded bachelorette party guest list.
But Ashton was a professional, and his smile snapped back into place after only the barest lapse.
“All right, Jasmine,” Taylor called from the stage. “Are you ready to see what these guys can do?”
Jasmine screamed her assent. A remix of “Gasolina” by Daddy Yankee came on and the guys flew into motion. They bopped around
in a choreographed dance routine that combined breakdancing, hip hop, and nineties boy band moves with hip thrusts, body rolls,
and subtle crotch grabs. It was clear the men of The Adonis Experience were all dancers or gymnasts, as they incorporated
impressive spins, backflips, and surprisingly balletic leaps, with hip gyrations and dropping down to hump the floor. But
Roman, Ashton, and Gabe kept up with them, never missing a beat.
Ava was mesmerized . She couldn’t take her eyes off Roman. And if anyone had spared her a look, they would have noticed, but luckily, they were all just as enthralled by the performance.
He’s mine! she wanted to shout. That’s my man!
The secret that had once felt so special and exhilarating now sat in her gut like a lead weight. She’d wanted Roman all to
herself, had done things she wasn’t proud of to hide their torrid affair behind the boundaries she’d set. Now? Those very
walls she’d diligently erected to keep her safe were threatening to crush her.
She glanced to the left at Jasmine, who was clapping and cheering for all she was worth. To the right at Patricia, who was
doing the same, but slightly more subdued.
What would they say if they knew? What would they say when it was over?
She remembered their responses when Hector left. They’d both been supportive, of course, but also concerned. Pitying. Anxious,
as if waiting for Ava to break.
Which, of course, had made her feel like she couldn’t. Like she had to hold everything together, even as her life was falling
apart.
Can’t disappoint or inconvenience anyone , that sarcastic little voice sing-songed. How dare you burden anyone else with your mess?
Exactly. Haven’t I done that enough? Ava couldn’t go through it again. She just couldn’t.
You’re being ridiculous , the voice urged. Just tell them .
No .
God, she was losing it. New Ava, Old Ava, Sarcastic Ava—all of the conflicting impulses were mixed up in her head, in her
soul, and she didn’t know who was in charge anymore.
Scared Ava , came a little whisper, and she quashed it down.
The music changed to something with a slower tempo and a more pulsing beat, and Taylor pushed through the crowd of guys, drawing Ava’s attention away from her own heavy thoughts.
“Now wait just a second.” Taylor’s expression was comically distressed. “I heard this was a bachelorette party!”
She waited for the audience reaction before gesturing at the men’s costumes. “These boys are wearing far too much clothing.
Jasmine, are you ready to see some skin?”
Jasmine screamed so loud, she’d probably be hoarse the next day.
Taylor pointed the mic toward the crowd. “How about the rest of you?”
More screams.
“All right, guys.” Taylor spun her arm like she was throwing a pitch. “Let ’er rip!”
At Taylor’s command, all seven men began a coordinated striptease, pulling at their respective costume tops. Ava’s eyes were
glued to Roman as he loosened his tie with slow, seductive movements. The suit jacket was next, sliding down each bulky shoulder
before he pulled the blazer off and flicked it in quick arcs like a whip. He tossed it to Ava with a wink, then his hands
went to the buttons on his shirt, which turned out to be snaps. He undid the first two slowly, then yanked the rest of the
shirt open, revealing the muscular expanse of his torso. The smile he sent her was pure sin.
Ava’s cheeks flushed. She’d gone commando tonight in the hopes of stealing a moment with him, but now, as she rubbed her thighs
together and fidgeted in her seat, she wondered if that had been the best idea.
The choreography moved him out of her line of sight and Gabe took his place. Gabe’s jersey was open and he shrugged it off, revealing multiple tattoos.
Jasmine grabbed Ava’s arm and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Are Gabe’s nipples pierced?”
Michelle gave her a surprised look. “You didn’t know?”
“Why would I know that?”
“You’ve never seen him without a shirt?” Ava asked, sparing Gabe a glance. The lights glinted off the silver bars in his nipples
as he dragged a hand down his abs toward his jeans-clad crotch.
Jasmine dropped her hands in her lap. “When would I have seen him topless?”
Michelle’s smirk was wicked. “He might have inspired me to do mine too.”
Jasmine’s mouth fell open and she snapped it shut. “We are absolutely discussing this in more detail later.”
Michelle gazed up at Gabe fondly. “This isn’t the first time he’s stripped for me either. You wouldn’t believe what I had to promise to get him to agree to this.”
“I see we have a lot to talk about.” Jasmine sent Ava a meaningful look. Before Ava could decipher it, Ashton reappeared on the stage in front
of them, and Jasmine’s attention returned to him.
Once all the men were bare to the waist, Taylor strode forward with her sparkly microphone. “Jasmine, have you chosen which
bachelor to give your rose to for the rest of your life?”
Jasmine’s reply was immediate. “Ashton! I choose Ashton!” She was already reaching for him when Gabe and Roman came down to get her. Roman’s eyes passed over Ava, and she didn’t miss the way they heated as they trailed up her bare legs. Her skin felt tight and she squirmed in her seat as she watched him guide her cousin onto the stage, where a single chair had appeared.
The other dancers melted away, including Roman and Gabe, leaving only Ashton, Jasmine, and Taylor. The music and lighting
took on a dreamy quality, a whimsical tune playing while mini spotlights swirled around them, cycling through soft colors—white,
pink, and yellow.
Ashton took Jasmine’s hands and brought them to his lips. He whispered something to her, and there were tears in Jasmine’s
eyes as she nodded, even though her mouth was stretched into a brilliant smile.
“Ashton, is there something you wanted to say to Jasmine?” Taylor held the mic up to him.
As Ashton spoke into the mic, he gazed into Jasmine’s eyes with such undisguised adoration, it made Ava’s heart hurt.
“Jasmine. Mi corazón.” His voice was husky with emotion and exertion, and his hands trailed languidly down her body. “You
have the sweetest soul. The biggest heart. And the most amazing... ass.”
Jasmine giggled as he gave her butt a quick squeeze. Her hands were doing some exploring of their own, sliding up his chest.
“I love your smile. Your laugh.” He gripped her wrists and draped her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies closer together.
“And the way you leave wet towels on the bathroom floor?” He let out a contented sigh, like he could think of nothing better.
“It’s incredibly sexy.”
The guests laughed, and from behind Ava, Titi Lisa yelled, “Really, Jasmine? Still? ”
“Before I met you,” Ashton continued, “I was living in the dark. You healed me and showed me that it was safe to trust. You are my light. My guiding star.”
Now the audience was swooning and making “aww” noises. Ava’s throat tightened, thinking of all the years Jasmine had searched
for this kind of love, only to be hurt again and again. But she’d still put herself out there, still believed that the love
she wanted and deserved could be hers. It had taken additional work—validating herself and demanding to be seen as her own
person, separate from a relationship—but Jasmine had done it, and she and Ashton had built a solid foundation for their future
together.
There was a lesson here, but Ava wasn’t sure she wanted to see it yet.
“My heart...” Ashton went on, then lowered his voice suggestively, “...and every other part of me... is yours. Forever.
Para siempre.”
Tears leaked from Jasmine’s eyes as Ashton leaned in and kissed her, deep and passionate, right in front of their friends
and family. When he pulled back, his eyes cut away from Jasmine’s and he muttered, “To my future mother-in-law, I am truly
sorry for what you’re about to see.”
The lights flickered off, leaving only a red spotlight focused on the chair. The music changed abruptly, and in a forceful
move, Ashton hoisted Jasmine up with an arm under each of her thighs. Taylor melted away as Ashton carried Jasmine to the
chair, setting her down carefully and dropping to his knees in front of her. “Jeans” by Jessie Reyez and Miguel played while
he proceeded to give Jasmine a lap dance that could have set the stage on fire.
It was more than a little awkward to watch your cousin’s soon-to-be husband mime having sex on stage. Worse, it just made Ava wish Roman were there, climbing on top of her own chair and undulating his pelvis in her face.
Ava had never in her life hoped to receive a lap dance, but now, she wanted it with every fiber of her being.
From Roman, though. Only from Roman.
No offense to Ashton. He was doing a great job. A+ work, really. Jasmine was a lucky woman.
But so was Ava. And no one knew it .
All told, the lap dance lasted maybe thirty seconds, forty-five tops. By the time the song ended and the lights went down,
Jasmine was on the floor with Ashton slithering around on top of her like a sexy alligator. Then the music changed to a party
anthem by Pitbull with flashing colored lights. All the men, including Roman and Gabe, came running back onstage.
“Let’s hear it for Jasmine and Ashton!” Taylor called out. “The hottest couple in creation!”
Amid claps and cheers, Taylor joined the guys for a high energy dance with lots of gyrations. Ava screamed along with everyone
else, but she couldn’t look away from Roman. The lights reflected off his muscular form as he moved, and if she hadn’t known
better, she would have thought he was a member of the troupe. He hit his moves with rhythm and precision, a fuck-me grin spread
across his handsome face.
Ava wriggled in her seat and concocted an elaborate fantasy about dragging him offstage to fuck in the bathroom.
Suddenly, the guys streamed into the audience.
“Now that Jasmine’s made her choice,” Taylor said into the mic, “we’ve got a slew of romantic fantasies come to life just
waiting to shower you with... attention!”
Ava’s heart galloped as she saw Roman and Gabe rounding the corner of the stage to head straight for her row. Gabe im mediately grabbed Michelle’s chair, lifting himself up with just the strength of his massive arms, and began grinding on her.
But Roman...
Ava’s eyes went wide. Roman was reaching for her .
The breath backed up in her throat even as her skin called out for him.
Yes, her dream was coming true!
But wait, no—what was he doing? No one was supposed to know they were together.
Fuck it . She was going to enjoy the hell out of this.
These thoughts passed through her mind in an instant, her body swaying toward him as he came closer.
But he passed her and instead came to a stop...
In front of her mother .
What the fuck?
Roman took Patricia’s hands and lifted them to his chest. Ava’s mom giggled— giggled , for fuck’s sake—as Roman straddled her lap.
Ava stared, uncomprehending. If it had been awkward to watch her cousin receiving a lap dance, it was even weirder to watch
her own boyfriend give one to her mom .
Not just her boyfriend. Her secret boyfriend.
She was thirty-three years old with a secret boyfriend. What was she doing?
Roman had done the right thing. Hadn’t he? She was relieved he hadn’t chosen her. It would have been too obvious, and she
would’ve had to answer too many uncomfortable questions about it later.
But fuck, did he have to choose her mom instead? Jesus.
Objectively, Ava could admit that Roman’s lap dance was fairly tame. A few undulations with lots of space between his body and her mom’s, before he drew her to her feet for some easy salsa moves. Patricia was grinning ear to ear by the time Roman kissed her hand and returned to the stage. Suddenly, Ava was no longer upset—Roman had made her mom feel special, and if she hadn’t already loved him, she would have fallen for him hard and fast right then.
Ava watched the rest of the dance—which involved all the men shucking their pants to reveal tiny briefs patterned like the
Puerto Rican flag—and had to admit that in addition to feeling relieved, she was also disappointed. Not only because Roman
hadn’t chosen her, but because a very small, immature part of her wished he’d taken the choice out of her hands.
It wasn’t fair of her, and she would have been angry if he’d done that, but this secret was getting harder to hold on to,
and it would’ve made everything so much easier if she could just... let it go.
Two more days .
After that, she’d figure out how to tell Jasmine, at least. And then her mom. From there, well, she’d play it by ear.
For now, Roman was still hers. Only hers.
Even if her heart begged her to come clean and claim him in front of everyone.