Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
CLARA
Ican sense there’s something Alejandra wants to say, but I don’t push. I hold her and lightly drag my fingers up and down her spine, trying to offer the tiniest bit of comfort I can.
She was fine a second ago. I don’t know what changed. Now she’s somewhere else entirely. Where? I have no idea, but I want to follow her there and pull her back if I can.
I wait a little longer, hoping she might speak, but when she doesn’t, I whisper, “Do you want to talk? What happened? Your whole mood changed out of nowhere.” I gently lift her chin so our eyes meet, and that seems to bring her back.
She gives me a tiny smile before leaning into my palm, her face inches from mine.
“I . . . I don’t know,” she murmurs, but it feels like a lie.
She leans further into my palm, and we stare at each other. Something flashes in her eyes—I don’t know exactly what—and I’m afraid to guess wrong because it almost looks like want.
Her eyes flicker between mine, then drop to my lips.
My breath hitches, and hers comes in quicker than before.
Her face is suddenly so close, all I can do is stare into her eyes.
Alejandra slips her arm around my waist, pulling me gently toward her, and my lips part as a soft gasp escapes, like my body knows something my mind is still catching up to. Everything feels hazy and dreamlike.
Alejandra’s face is inching closer to mine, and the moment her perfume hits me, the air between us crackles.
She nuzzles her nose against mine, and it’s so tender, it stirs a deep want in my chest. Her eyes hold mine, and my vision blurs.
My heart starts beating wildly and unsteadily, and with her this close, I know she can feel it pounding through me.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice so quiet I barely recognize it as mine.
Alejandra and I rub noses all the time. It’s our thing.
But this feels more intimate. Closer, somehow.
Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m overthinking what’s supposed to be a simple, comforting moment.
But my mind won’t stop telling me this isn’t like all the other times, that something about this closeness feels different, but it’s hard to trust it.
I want to be objective about this, but it’s hard to focus when I swear she’s leaning in. Or am I?
Fuck, I can’t tell.
My breath picks up, and my fingers tingle with anticipation. I know I should lean back, I should stop this, but I can’t. My body has decided to ignore my brain. I lean in further, feeling the soft brush of her lips, ready to close the final distance, when Valeria rushes through the house.
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Valeria says, clearing her throat.
Alejandra pulls back so quickly that I barely have time to register the movement.
“No, no, it’s nothing,” she blurts out quickly, a nervous edge in her voice. She stands a little too fast and almost trips as she walks toward Valeria and wraps her in a hug.
“Diana’s been waiting for you. Let me take you,” she says quickly.
Valeria turns to me, eyes so wide it should be physically impossible. I motion for her to go because I need a few minutes alone to process what almost happened.
She almost kissed me.
I’m not imagining that, right? I almost feel like I’m making it up. Like it was some sort of daydream. But it wasn’t, it almost happened, and the thought alone sends a rush swirling through me, like electricity sparking beneath my skin.
Fuck, now I’m going to be thinking about this all day. Just a brush of her lips made me feel so much. A need so deep that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like it before. Between yesterday’s conversation and today, my mind is spinning.
I feel a buzz in my pocket, and when I grab my phone, I have a message from Valeria.
Valeria 2:00 p.m.:
I’m so sorry! I have the worst timing. Were you and Ale KISSING????????????
Clara 2:00 p.m.:
We weren’t!!! but i think . . . maybe we were going to? IDK IDK
Valeria 2:00 p.m.:
Well, ale was nervous rambling soooo
God, I have to find a way to get her alone again, and soon. I need answers. I need to know what it means. Is this her testing if she’s interested in me, or is this a genuine interest?
I stand from the couch and head back outside, where everyone is still practicing and hanging out. The cold is biting, but I barely notice because the warmth filling me right now is all-consuming.
I do my best to pay attention to Patty, but all I can focus on is that I almost kissed Alejandra! Fuck, I was so close. If it weren’t for Valeria, I would have, and I wish I had because Alejandra hadn’t pulled away.
The rest of our day at Diana’s was pretty uneventful.
We practiced the choreography some more, but the entire time, my eyes were fixed on Alejandra.
The way she moved around people to take pictures.
The nervous smirk that appeared on her face whenever her eyes caught mine.
It was subtle, but it made my heart race like nothing else.
When we made it back home, Lala was still with us, so Alejandra and I didn’t get to talk about much aside from the choreography, fill Lala in on why we hated Brooke, and show her the pictures Alejandra was thinking about printing for Diana to make an album for her and Alex.
Then Lala started making dinner and requested that Alejandra help her out.
So, I lay on the couch watching a random show I barely paid attention to as I scrolled through social media and answered some work emails.
I don’t usually look at them during the weekend, but aimlessly scrolling through social media isn’t giving my brain the Alejandra break it needs, and I’m desperate for something else to occupy my attention.
After dinner, Alejandra offloads the pictures she took and begins to edit them, and before I know it, she’s asleep on the couch. I guess this conversation is going to have to wait.
I take her iPad and stylus from her hands and set them on the coffee table. Throw a blanket over her and sit beside her. Watch her sleep for a while. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I lie on the couch next to her, studying her in the dark, wondering about the many ways this could go wrong because the options are endless, but I remind myself that this is Alejandra.
The one who knows—in far too much detail—the ins and outs of every aspect of my life.
Alejandra, who listens to me when I’ve had a bad day and does everything in her power to fix it.
Alejandra, my best friend since forever, whom I now can’t stop thinking about in a strictly not friendly way.
Wondering what sounds she makes, how she feels, what she tastes like, and it’s dizzying to want to know this badly.
I want to know more than anything in the world, I have for years, and have silently cursed everyone who’s gotten the chance to find out.
Valeria’s voice from a few days ago plays in my mind on a loop: “If anyone can figure this out, it’s you two.”
I rub my eyes until they water, and throw my arms over my face. I know she’s right . . . I know we could, but is it worth taking the risk and maybe losing it all? That’s the part I can’t decide on.
Even if she felt the same way, there’s no guarantee that we’d work out.
Some people are only meant to be friends, no matter how fucking electric the connection feels.
Alejandra makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
She makes me feel safe. She listens when I need her to.
She knows when to wrap me up tight because I feel like I’m falling apart and she’s the only thing keeping me together.
And she knows when to give me space. Those things make her an amazing best friend and will make her the perfect partner for someone.
Someone who isn’t me. Because it can’t be me, no matter how many years I’ve fantasized about what it would be like to kiss her again after all these years, to hold her in ways I have before, but also completely differently.
To know her in the most profound and most intimate ways, as only a partner can.
I reach for my phone, needing something to distract me—anything to stop my thoughts from spinning out. I scroll through social media, not paying much attention, just thumbing through.
“Hey,” Alejandra says groggily.
“Hey.”
“What time is it?” she asks through a yawn, the sweetest, softest sound.
I glance at my phone. “It’s 11:30.”
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I was waiting for you to wake up, so we could go together.”
Alejandra smiles and nods. “Let’s go then.”
Alejandra disappears into the bathroom, the quiet click of the door closing sounding in the distance. A few minutes later, she slips into bed beside me.
“Are you in your outside clothes?” she asks, and I look down.
“Yeah.”
She tsks. “Go change.” She nudges me with her shoulder under the covers.
I groan, rolling off the bed. I don’t mind getting into bed in clothes I’ve worn out, but Alejandra hates it, and I know better than to argue with her. So, I walk into my closet and change. A few minutes later, I slip back under the covers.
“Happy?” I mutter, half grumbling, half smiling.
She snorts and cuddles into me. “Yes.”
I roll my eyes, but the warmth of her body against mine makes it impossible not to smile.
“Goodnight,” Alejandra murmurs as her lips brush the corner of my lips, so soft, so familiar, it almost breaks me.
I close my eyes, swallowing the ache that rises in my chest. “Goodnight, bunny.”
Alejandra turns away and falls asleep almost immediately, completely unaware of the storm in me.
I toss and turn most of the night, my brain overtaken by thoughts of how badly I’d have liked to kiss her earlier and how badly I still want to—even with all the uncertainty and fear.
To finally satisfy the craving I’ve had since the first time we kissed, nearly ten years ago.