Chapter 27
After tucking the phone in my duffle. I head into the bathroom, and as I tiptoe out, I notice Maria’s door is cracked open. I peek my head inside to find her stretched out on the floor coloring.
“Hey,” I whisper.
She looks over her shoulder and waves me inside.
I step into her aquatic-themed room and stretch out beside her on the throw rug. Maria’s already done the mermaid’s hair blue, and I smile at that.
“Mind if I do her body purple?” I ask.
Maria shakes her head and goes back to highlighting a silver dolphin.
“You’re up early,” I say.
“I get bad dreams. Sometimes I have to go sleep with Gramma.”
“I have them, too. It’s good you have your Gramma to go to.”
She looks at me with a searching expression that fits someone so much older. “Do you get them a lot?”
My instinct is to change the subject, but something makes me share. “I’ve had them for years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yes it is, but now I don’t get them as often.”
“You don’t think I’ll have mine for years, do you?”
“Absolutely not. They’ll go away eventually.”
Maria scoots over and hugs my neck. “If you have one while you’re here, you can come sleep with me.”
Emotion clogs my throat. “Thank you, Maria.”
She nods and goes back to her dolphin.
I get a purple pencil and start in on the mermaid’s body.
Time ticks by, and we finish one picture and go on to the next. The more we do, the more settled I notice Maria becomes, like music does for me. I imagine that’s why she’s up so early and in here coloring.
Eventually, the sun comes up and brightens the room. Her clock flicks to 8:00 a.m.
“Hey, girls.” West scoots into the room, crawling right between us. He kisses my cheek. “Good morning.” Then he kisses Maria’s cheek. “Can I play?”
She hands him a white crayon. “You can do the clouds.”
He looks over at me. “Sleep okay?”
I nod and get a little lost in his still drowsy eyes.
Vianca rolls into the room. “Everyone’s having fun without me,” she playfully pouts.
Maria pokes West in the ribs, and he jokingly flinches. Giggling, she climbs over West to poke me.
“Well, isn’t this just fun?” Gramma says from the doorway. “Pecan pancakes. Everyone up and at ‘em.”
“Pecan pancakes are my favorite!” Maria darts from the room.
Vianca spins in her chair and follows Maria out, and West props his cheek in his hand as he turns to me.
“I like your family,” I tell him. “Thanks for inviting me.”
He slides across the small space. “You’re very welcome.” He nuzzles a nibbly line from my ear down the side of my neck. It’s the first time he’s done that since our kiss behind the soundboard.
All kinds of wonderfulness tingles my skin. “Your family.”
“Don’t worry, they won’t come back. And if they do?” He goes back to nuzzling. “Oh, well.”
“West…”
“Shh.” He brushes his lips across my ear, and I almost whimper.
A little girl’s giggle fills the air. Maria stands in the doorway with both hands planted over her mouth.
She giggles again and points. “You’re kissing.
” West growls and lunges for her, and she leaps out of his reach and sprints toward the kitchen.
“They’re kissing, they’re kissing, they’re kissing, they’re kissing. ”
I groan, “I am so embarrassed.”
West pulls me to my feet. “Come on.”
“You’re kissing, you’re kissing, you’re kissing,” Vianca teases when we walk into the kitchen.
Everyone snickers and I proceed to turn extremely red.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” Gramma tells me.
“I’m hitting the shower. Do I have time?” West asks, and his dad waves him on. West gives me a poke in the side. “We’re kissing,” he teases and heads off.
I can’t help the smile that spreads as I turn to Gramma. “What can I do to help?”
She puts me to work cutting fruit. The bathroom door opens, and West emerges holding a towel around his waist.
“Don’t mind me. Forgot my razor.” He walks over to his suitcase propped in the corner of the living room.
In all the time we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen him without a shirt.
I’ve seen him in running shorts, jeans, T-shirts, long shirts, and a variety of other clothes, but never almost naked.
I tell myself I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t tear away from the muscles defining his abs, the striated curves of his biceps and shoulders, the winding tattoo that I discover has a rose at the top, and from the light dusting of dark hair across his pecks to the line that starts at his navel and disappears down below.
He leans over then to grab his razor, his towel opens, and I nearly cut my thumb off.
Then he’s back in the bathroom, and I stand in the kitchen trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing.
“Cutting fruit,” Gramma reminds me with a knowing look.
I dive into the oranges. Breakfast comes and goes and all I think about is West’s body. Now that I’ve had a glimpse of it, I want more.