Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Esteban
She fits perfectly in my arms, like she was made for me, and I am so damn screwed.
The kiss we shared earlier knocked the air out of my lungs.
I had to pull away before I lost all control and dragged her onto my lap.
I wanted to touch every inch of her, memorize the feel of her skin under my hands.
And that tiny moan she let out? It’s etched into my brain, playing on a loop I never want to end.
Then I had the brilliant idea to show her how to dance reggaetón.
Now, her body is pressed up against mine, her hips moving in rhythm as I guide her, and I swear I'm barely holding it together. Her curves mold to me like a damn glove, and I know she feels how hard I am. There’s no hiding it, not with the way she keeps grinding against me like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
I want her.
I want to strip that sweater off her, pull down her leggings, and make her mine right here in the middle of my living room.
I want to make her moan my name as I eat her pussy.
Then I want to see her face as I enter her wet and tight heat.
I want to do dirty things to her. But I don’t.
Instead, I stare down into her gorgeous eyes, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss her again.
She looks up at me like she’s thinking the same thing, and my grip on her hips tightens just slightly.
The tension between us is electric. I haven’t stopped touching her since we started dancing and truth is, I don’t want to. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever.
And never, not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my best friend’s little sister would be the one to make me feel everything for the first time in my life.
The girl I used to tease, the one I saw grow up.
Back then, she was just Noah’s kid sister; off-limits, untouchable, part of the background.
But now I can’t get her out of my head. She’s no longer the little girl I used to prank, she’s a woman.
One who challenges me, pulls me in, makes me want more than I’ve ever allowed myself to want.
What the hell am I supposed to do with all these weird emotions?
I’ve always been all about love. Hell, when Austin and Noah were falling for their girls, I was the one cheering them on, giving advice, pushing them to not screw it up. But this? This is different.
This is Eva.
My best friend little sister. And here I am, holding her close, practically molding her body to mine under the excuse of teaching her how to dance.
If Noah walked in right now, he’d kill me.
No hesitation. No questions. He wouldn’t even care that I’m catching real feelings for her. He wouldn’t understand.
And honestly… that’s on me.
I’ve always been the wild one in our group, the loud one, the jokester, the so-called manwhore. The guy who’s down for a good time but never sticks around long enough to mean anything. I get it. That’s the reputation I built for myself.
But the truth is, ever since both my best friends found real love, I’ve been craving something like that too. I’ve said it out loud more than once, but I’m sure they thought I was just being funny, trying to get a laugh. I wasn’t.
I want what they have. I want someone who looks at me like I’m their whole damn world. And right now, I’m looking at Eva and wondering if maybe she could be that someone for me.
Right now, I’ve got two options: lean in and kiss her again, or take a step back before I mess this all up.
Her lips are slightly parted, eyes locked on mine like she’s daring me to make a move. And I really want to make that move.
After a few seconds of debating, I decide that I just need her lips one more time. So, fuck it.
I lean in slowly, giving her time to back away if she wants to, but she doesn’t. She tilts her chin up, eyes fluttering shut, and I’m about to press my mouth to hers when—
Riiiiing.
The shrill sound of my phone cuts through the air like a slap. I freeze. My forehead nearly touching hers. We both blink, caught in this suspended moment between what almost was and what now won’t be.
I step back fast, like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.
Because I have.
My phone rings again, lighting up with Noah’s name across the screen. Carajo.
I can see the flicker of disappointment in Eva’s eyes, and guilt twists in my gut. She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel it, the shift, the way the air between us cools immediately.
I mutter, “Sorry, I gotta take this,” and turn before I do something even dumber.
As I walk toward the kitchen, I can still feel her heat against me, the phantom press of her body, the sound of her soft breathing in my ear. My heart’s still racing, but this time it’s from panic, not desire.
I swipe to answer the call. “Hey, man,” I say, trying to sound normal. Casual. Like I wasn’t about to kiss the one girl I’m not supposed to touch.
“Did you book the plane tickets yet?” Noah asks.
“Yeah, just did. I went ahead and bought Eva’s too, so she’s all set.”
“Cool. Can you text the flight number in the group chat? I’m gonna buy tickets for Josy and me, and Austin and Violet want to be on the same flight too.”
“Sure thing, bro,” I say, grateful for the distraction and maybe even for the interruption.
“Thanks, man. See you tomorrow.”
“Later.”
I hang up and stare at my phone for a second before opening the group chat and typing out the flight details. My hands feel jittery, like they haven’t quite caught up with the crash landing of adrenaline in my system.
Once the message is sent, I head back to the living room.
Eva’s on the couch, quietly focused on her phone. She doesn’t look up when I walk in. The air feels… different. Not tense exactly, but definitely cautious.
I sit beside her, giving her a little space but not too much.
“That was your brother,” I say lightly. “Looks like we’re all flying out together to Key West this Friday.”
She glances up, her lips twitching into a small smile. “All of us on one plane? That should be interesting.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Hope you’re ready for the in-flight circus. I call aisle seat, by the way, less risk of accidentally falling asleep on your shoulder.”
It’s a dumb joke, but she laughs softly, and I swear it eases something in my chest. We’re not back to where we were five minutes ago, but we’re not worlds apart either. And that’s something.
I let her laugh settle in my chest for a moment before I lean back into the cushions and turn slightly toward her.
“So,” I say, trying to reel us back in, “you want more ice cream?”
She shakes her head softly, eyes back on her phone. “Not right now.”
I nod, respecting the shift in her mood. Can’t blame her, I was the one who backed away like I got caught sneaking into the cookie jar. I should’ve kissed her. Why didn’t I just kiss her?
But instead of pressing, I let her steer.
“Can I ask you something, though?” she says, glancing at me.
“Always.”
“What’s it like… being Puerto Rican?”
Her question catches me off guard but in a good way. I sit up a little straighter, surprised and kind of honored that she wants to know.
“It’s amazing,” I say with a smile. “I mean, having two cultures it’s something I’ve always been proud of.
My parents made sure I knew where I came from.
They’d blast salsa music on Saturdays while cleaning the house, cook arroz con gandules and pernil every chance they got.
Spanish was the first language I learned, even though I was born here.
I learned English when I started school and it was hard at the beginning but I am proud that I can talk both languages fluently. ”
She’s watching me closely now, like she’s seeing a new piece of me.
“I liked being the only Puerto Rican in my friend group growing up,” I continue. “People never guess I’m Latino ‘cause, you know, light skin, green eyes, light brown hair. So they’d start speaking Spanish around me like I didn’t understand a damn word.”
I chuckle, remembering one particular time.
“There was this girl once, at a party. She was talking with her friend about how hot I was, saying she’d climb me like a tree, like full-on thirst mode.
In Spanish. I waited until she was done, walked up to her, and told her in perfect Spanish that she better bring climbing gear next time. ”
Eva bursts out laughing. “You did not.”
“Oh, I absolutely did.” I grin. “Her face turned bright red. But hey, she got her climb later.”
She laughs again, shaking her head, but I can see her relaxing a little. That spark’s still there.
“So, you really are a ladies’ man?”
“I used to be the ladies’ man,” I say, emphasizing the past tense.
“I was okay living my life like that. I just wanted to have fun and never lied to any of the girls I hung out with. They always knew it was just one or two nights, and then I was done. I wasn’t into relationships.
I guess I liked keeping it light. No strings attached. ”
“Why are you talking in the past tense?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “Are you saying you’re not like that anymore?”
Her eyes are fixed on mine, and something about the way she’s looking at me makes it hard to keep things surface-level.
I rub the back of my neck, searching for the right words.
How do I tell her I’ve been trying to find something real this past year?
That I’m tired of short flings and empty conversations?
I don’t want to come off like I’m just feeding her a line, and I sure as hell don’t want to sound like a softie either.
So I go for the truth. Or at least part of it.
“Because I think I’m ready for something different,” I say, my voice lower now. “I had fun, but I want more in my life.”
Guess I ended up saying it all anyway. But the way she’s looking at me right now makes me want to tell her every damn secret I’ve got.
“I think it’s good to realize that,” she says softly. “It’s not easy to change that mindset, going from being the ladies’ man to a one-lady kind of man. But I think you can do it. I hope you find the perfect woman for you.”
“I hope so too,” I whisper. And God, I want to tell her that I think I might be looking at her right now. But instead, I give her a wink and say, “Besides, I’m a catch. Any woman would be lucky to have me.”
She laughs, a soft sparkle in her eyes. “That you are. Handsome, bilingual, cooks like a five-star Michelin chef, and funny. What else could a woman ask for?”
“So you do think I’m handsome?” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows at her.
She rolls her eyes. “I wonder why that’s the only part you heard.”
She stands up and smooths her sweater, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I should probably head out. It’s getting late.”
I don’t want her to leave; not when the air between us still crackles with everything unsaid, but I nod. “Yeah. Don’t want your brother thinking I kidnapped you.”
She lets out a tired little laugh. “He doesn’t even know I came here. I told him I was hanging out with Ashton and Payton.”
That makes my eyebrows lift. “Lying to your big brother to hang out with me? Now that’s dangerous territory.”
She smiles, but there’s a hint of exhaustion in her eyes. “I was just tired of his big brother act.”
My chest tightens, but I keep it light, keep it safe. “Well, next time you feel like breaking the rules, you know where to find me.”
Grabbing her phone from the couch, she heads to the door. I walk her out, my hands shoved into my pockets just to stop myself from reaching for her again. She pauses at the threshold, her gaze flicking up to mine.
“You’ll text me tomorrow if you need anything?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Of course.” I give her a slow smile. “I’m gonna annoy you so much you’ll regret ever asking how to dance reggaetón.”
Her smile stretches wider. “I highly doubt that.”
I lean against the doorframe, letting my eyes trail down her face one last time before she walks away. “Drive safe, mi amor.”
She blushes, and damn, it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen all day, then gives me a little wave and heads to her car. I watch her go, still feeling the heat of her body pressed to mine, the way her laugh wrapped around me like a song I never want to forget.
As soon as she pulls out of the driveway, I shut the door, lean my head back against it, and exhale.
I’m so damn screwed.