Chapter 30 #2
“Thanks.” I nod, and he returns the gesture before he pulls his ringing phone out of his back pocket, standing up as he answers it.
“Hey, dumbass,” he says as he wanders toward the sliding glass door.
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” I smile as I realize he’s talking to Wes, his long-distance bestie from back in the United States.
I’ve been with Miles multiple times when Wes has called, enough times to know he still calls Miles “captain,” and Miles still calls him whatever name comes to mind at the time.
His voice fades as he pulls on the door and steps outside.
May rests her head on my shoulder as Caio and Rafael talk about heading out to Heath’s when he gets back. Isla has pulled out a sketchpad and pencil from I don’t know where and is looking between the guys and her page as she sketches delicate lines. “You two seem good together,” May says quietly.
I smile even as dread clenches around my heart. “Yeah.”
“Is it hard being in Sorrento?” I stop breathing for a moment, because why would she think that? “With all the paparazzi and everything?” My breath returns.
“It can be a lot,” I say. “We found her place surrounded by paparazzi one day. Like an entire fucking football team on her front lawn.”
“She’s lucky you were there,” she says after a moment.
“Yeah.”
“You’re living in the public eye now,” she adds.
“I am indeed.” I love stating the obvious with May; it’s one of our favorite ways to communicate.
She turns to look me in the eye. “Is that what you want?”
I’ve never thought about a life where being with Marisol wouldn’t include the cameras and the gossip columns. That’s her life.
“I want her,” I say. May nods against my shoulder, her hand rubbing my forearm in comfort as if that answer is enough.
“I’m gonna go find her,” I say. “Are you good?”
She sits up straight, a hand landing on her belly and a small smile on her face. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” I bend down to kiss her on the cheek before I make my way through the dining room and into the kitchen.
Marina’s in there, drizzling oil over an oven tray, a red apron tied around her waist. But Marisol is nowhere to be seen. “Come for a beer or your girl?” She looks up from under her lashes at me when I don’t reply. “So not a beer then.”
I just smile. “Not right now, no.”
She bites the inside of her cheek as she smiles. She nods down the hall. “She went to the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” I say before turning and heading in that direction.
“Hey, Leo.”
“Yeah?” I spin back around, and Marina has abandoned her task, both hands resting on the kitchen counter as she looks at me. “I never got to tell you, but I’m really happy for you.”
I smile, despite the utter unknown between Marisol and me right now. “Thank you.” Marina nods curtly before getting back to her cooking.
I head down the hall, and when I see the guest bathroom door open, I peek inside. No Marisol. I frown as I follow the turn that leads to the main bedroom and the large set of stairs that lead to the rest of the house.
Marisol looks up from her spot sitting on the stairs.
“Hey,” I say, and she stands up immediately.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you come looking.”
“It’s okay.” I notice the way she won’t let go of the pendant on her necklace, rubbing her thumb over the top again and again. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head.
I take a step toward her. “Don’t give me that.”
“No, nothing is wrong, Leo. It’s just…”
I’m in front of her now, forcing her to look up when she speaks to me. “What?”
“I can see it.” She shrugs a shoulder, looking defeated.
I shake my head. “See what?”
“You. Here,” she says. “I see how comfortable you are, how relaxed you feel here.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and I pull my hand up to cup her cheek. “I could never give you that.”
“Marisol, stop. I—”
“It’s true, Leo.” She steps out of my grasp, shaking her head as she paces the hall. “My job, my life, is like a battlefield for you. It forces you back into a world you are so desperately trying to run from.”
“Marisol.” I say her name again because what else am I supposed to say?
“I can’t ask you to keep putting yourself in that position for my sake. It’s not fair.”
I step into her, pulling her toward me. Her hands land on my chest, and her eyes, laced with hurt and confusion, drag up my body to meet mine.
“It’s not easy. There’s no point lying about that.
But if I wanted out, I’d be out. Your life is your life.
I knew exactly what I was getting myself into with this whole deal.
If being your fake boyfriend means having a few nightmares, then that’s just the way it is.
You asked me to do this with you. I am not going to walk away from a promise. ”
She swallows deeply as her lips part, looking like she’s not sure if she believes me or not. “Last night,” she takes a breath, “were you just fulfilling your fake boyfriend duties?”
A smirk tugs hard at my lips because she’s not that clueless. “Is that what it felt like?”
Something between a scoff and a laugh falls from her lips as her gaze slips from mine. She knows it was real. Last night was vulnerable for both of us, in so many ways. But if she needs to hear it from my mouth to believe it, then I won’t deny her.
I hook my finger under her chin and force her to look back at me.
“Nothing about last night was fake,” I say.
“And neither is this.” I crash my lips into hers, and in an instant, she’s groaning into my mouth, leaving me smiling against her lips.
I ache to slip my hands beneath her shirt, to know if she’s wearing one of her pretty lace bras.
But she claws at my back, so I slide my hands over her ass and pick her up instead.
She laughs against my lips as she wraps her arms around my neck, her hands sinking into my hair as I push her against the wall.
Her laugh transforms into a gasp, and then she’s grinding her hips against mine.
My dick aches beneath my jeans, and I meet her hips as her tongue sweeps into my mouth, tangling with mine as heat builds between us, turning this hallway into a sauna.
I’ve never felt such an aching need to be with someone.
Like my world might crumble around me if I never get to feel her.
But it’s more than just the physical. My heart clenches inside my chest every time she kisses me, because this is the stuff of my imagination.
This is the thing I’ve dreamed of since I was a teenager who thought he knew what love was.
But I never dreamed it would feel like this.
I never knew how much I would give up to have her in my life.
Including my dignity and my peace. But I would give up my peace any day for this feeling.
I don’t know how we make this work. Because Marisol is right, her world is exactly what I don’t want, what I don’t need. But her? She’s my lifeline.
“Leo,” she whispers before she kisses me again. And I don’t grant her a response, I simply bite down on her bottom lip, leaving her moaning as she pushes her crotch against mine. Hard.
The high-pitched squeak of a shoe against hardwood floors shoots down the hallway.
“OH. Whoa, fuck! Sorry!” Marisol slides out of my grasp and down the wall until her feet hit the ground as we both look to see Marina covering her eyes with her hand.
“I got pomodoro on my shirt,” she blurts out.
“I just need to get to my room so I can change.” She peeks through two fingers to see Marisol swallowing a giggle and me casually holding my clasped hands in front of my crotch.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She laughs, and that giggle explodes from Marisol’s lips as she covers her face.
“I’m gonna go die in a hole now if that’s okay with everyone?”
Marina snickers as she walks toward us. “Don’t worry. I have a track record of walking in on people. I’m used to it.” That is true. “There’s a spare bedroom around the corner, by the way.”
“Marina!” Marisol shakes her head as a flush quickly rises on her cheeks.
Marina grins as she scoots past us down the hall, and when Marisol moves to head back to the living room, I tug on her hand, pulling her back against my body. I don’t know what to say, so I press my lips to hers once again, but this time it’s gentle.
I smirk down at her as she pulls away. She rolls her eyes before tugging me along with her so I can go and sit across from her brother, while all I can think about is what would’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted.