Chapter Three
Genevieve
My head swam in a sea of regret. Last night’s champagne seemed like a good idea, but I lamented the decision to have more than two glasses during the celebration. Bolstered by my resolve during my conversation with Mom and the banter with Anibal and Anita, I’d forgotten to practice moderation, which at this point should be my middle name. I was that child, the careful one, the one who friends appointed as the designated driver in college. Carefulness was my brand.
A quick shower and a cup of blistering hot coffee remedied some of my aches. Somehow, I’d had the presence to wrap my hair, so I placed it in a ponytail, put on leggings, a tank top, and an off-shoulder T-shirt on top.
Saying a quick thank you to past Gen for my already packed vacation bag, I pulled my cell to see the timing to order a shared drive to the nearest car rental. From there, I’d take the two-hour drive to Aguimar. Like it was 1999, I printed the directions, just in case the signal was spotty on the road to the town, even though everyone assured me that wouldn’t be a problem.
As an extra precaution, I also printed copies of my reservation at the hostel Anita had arranged. My vast experience had taught me well—people that took arrangements made for them for granted could easily find out they had incorrect information and nowhere to stay. If I had to explain to one more Vibranium member that I couldn’t build a room in a sold-out hotel...the joys of hospitality.
The intercom pulled me from my mental inventory, startling me.
“Hello?”
“Hi, miss, I have a Se?or Adrián to see you?” Jose, the security guard, announced.
Was that my heart attempting to escape my chest? And why did everything feel warmer all of a sudden?
Why had Adrián returned? My memories were murky at best, and I didn’t remember if we had agreed for him to take me to the rental company? Running through the events of last night, I found the reason within seconds. By the time I remembered my missing laptop bag, a firm knock had reverberated through the apartment.
With my heart in my throat, I marched toward the door, taking a quick inventory of my state. Breath check—yikes, I cupped my hand over my mouth, and the smell of black coffee punched me back. Damn.
“Give me a sec!”
I dashed to the bathroom. For fuck’s sake, why did I care so much about my breath, of all things? There was no reason for my jitters; Adrián had been nothing but professional these past four months. What did I think? That we would be tangling tongues one day removed from our professional relationship? He’d never been so close to me to detect my black coffee dragon breath.
Where was the poised, put-together Silent Sniper? Just the thought of Adrián standing behind my door had me conjuring ways to convince him to stay and chat for a while.
I’d been sad to part ways with Anita and the team at the Tropics, but saying goodbye to Adrián had been my hardest task. Adrián, who’d given me space to warm up to him at my pace, and embraced all my questions about his country enthusiastically, showing a deep interest in my thoughts that went beyond politeness. He’d integrated me into his everyday, telling me anecdotes of his drives or the day’s news, telling me in his easygoing manner, always finding ways to pull smiles from me.
We didn’t always see eye to eye, though; I loved our heated debates about how to grow our communities and what was needed the most. Generational wealth in my eyes, equitable sharing of resources between families and beyond in his eyes. When he got into his stride, his voice would deepen and I was a bit ashamed to say, my mind would travel elsewhere, wondering how that deep voice would make me feel in the middle of sweaty sex. Who thought deep existential conversations would be so sexy?
The ghost sensation of the rasp of warm skin kissed my lips, and a flash of memory of how delicious it had felt to press my mouth against his cheek resurfaced. Yo...had I really told him I’d miss him?
Incredible, one conversation with Mom where I held my own, and suddenly I transformed into a hot girl, doing hot girl things.
At work, I was self-contained and determined. Outside of work, during those elusive couple of hours per day, I lived in my quiet bubble, surrounded by my assortment of quirky coffee mugs, comfy plush onesies, excessive pillows, and my board games. Twenty-year-old Gen would have been perplexed. All that work and that was all I had to show?
Gino, my best friend, had tasked himself with improving my social life. He obviously didn’t care about the known definition of madness. Every week he cajoled me into dinner, a movie, and, when feeling really lucky, to a local bar. Every week I managed ways to finagle myself out of the plans, attempting to convince him to hang out at my condo instead. We had a fifty-fifty track record. But lately, Gino had shown signs of fatigue. It wasn’t easy being friends with such an introvert.
A blast of mint filled my mouth, and I swished the mouthwash like I would win a prize for it. Displaying unexpected speed, I hurried across the open living room, dining room, and kitchen, my heart beating so hard, I confused it with the knock on the door. I yanked the door open with a show of force I never showed in the gym, halting when I met a wall of white.
My eyes traveled from the torso, adorned by a white T-shirt valiantly covering all that chest, up to the dimple of my weekly dreams. Adrián stood in his T-shirt and jeans, holding my laptop bag. Adrián in slacks and shirts had been a treat, but Adrián, dressed down, was a whole cheat day.
“Hey, Adrián.”
Why did I sound as if I had run from Florida to the door?
“Hey, Ms. Raymond.” The quirk of his lips pulled my attention, interrupting my fascination with his dimple.
“I thought I told you to call me by my name?” Alert, alert: The Return of the Hot Girl.
“Isn’t Ms. Raymond your name?” He had such an expressive eyebrow. And why did that arch make me want to run my finger over it?
“Oh please, you know what I mean. I’m Genevieve, and Tropics no longer employs you to drive me so we can drop all that professionalism of the past four months.”
I waved him in and closed my eyes as he swaggered inside the apartment. The smell of his cologne would haunt me until the end of my days. He rested his deliciously burly body against the white marble kitchen island, elbow relaxed on the counter.
“So tell me, Genevieve, how do you look when you drop your professionalism?” he asked while I pressed myself against the closed door.
“I...well...” Hot Girl, come back! I need you. I wasn’t ready for this pressure, all this time I thought this infatuation one-sided. How had I missed the signs?
Oh yeah, because I was buried in work.
He grinned. Mmm-hmm, so he was amused at witnessing how I fumbled the bag? I rallied, wanting to leave a lasting impression before saying goodbye.
“We won’t ever know, will we?” I shrugged and approached him, extending my hand. He studied me, all loose limbs and relaxed pose, and I realized he was trying to set me at ease. His eyes, though, told a different story. His intense gaze burned through my chest, electrifying every atom in my body.
“I wished we’d met in a different setting,” he confessed, and I nodded like a marionette under his strings, the beat of my heart accelerating again. Could he hear it?
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What could I say? If I made a move, you’d probably ask for a different company to pick you up.”
If he only knew. I’d been plotting ways to make his dimple show from the first day I met him. It had all been polite conversation, but at least once a day, I got a glimpse of that breathtaking smile and his sexy dimple.
“No, you should have tried.” I reached out to take the bag out of his hand.
The touch of his skin jolted me. I searched his gaze and recognized the same sizzling awareness that tingled through my body. Then that damn dimple made an appearance again.
“How about I try now?” His hand ghosted up my arm, then back down, and he squeezed it. Genevieve, don’t moan. Do. Not. Moan. The gesture should have been innocent, but it felt as if he’d pressed his entire hard, sturdy body against mine. I relaxed my hand, then dropped the laptop bag.
“Oh shit!” The dull thud didn’t sound promising.
We both knelt at the same time, his movements faster than mine. I struggled to keep my composure at his nearness and stood up as he straightened out to his full height. Lord, but he was tall. He zipped open the bag, the sound snapping me out of the fog of need that clouded my senses.
Adrián pulled out the laptop, inspecting it from every angle.
“I think it’s alright. Try it out,” he instructed, and the way he told me what to do should have annoyed me but instead lit a fire in me. I rested the laptop on the counter, and after a few taps, the screen lit up.
“All good.” I sighed in relief.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d drop it.”
“Are you really blaming me for...for all this...” I flapped my hands in his direction, peeved he didn’t take ownership of his aura. He must have been keeping it all leashed behind his professional persona. The moment he walked into the apartment, I could sense the difference in him. The intense confidence incredibly alluring. If only we’d dropped our masks earlier.
His laughter boomed in the apartment, a full round sound like a timpani in an echo chamber, making me feel tingly inside.
“I’m sorry for flustering you. I just wanted you to know how attracted I was to you before you left, back to the States,” he finished with a rueful smile.
The reminder that this searing intensity between us had no future dampened the mood like a wet, cold blanket. Why couldn’t Adrián and I have met on one of those boring-ass dates I took out occasionally? With him it wouldn’t have been boring; with Adrián, it would have been memorable and sensual, and thought-provoking... I sighed, I was working myself up for something that couldn’t be.
Needing a second, I turned my back to him, closed the laptop, and filled my lungs with air before facing him, feeling centered once more. He had retreated to the sofa across the kitchen island, resting himself on the back of the seat—as if that made him less dangerous to my stability.
“If I’m ever here again, I’ll make sure to reach out to you. I’ll probably have meetings to attend once the Tropics is over the honeymoon phase.” The air between us carried a heaviness of unexplored possibilities and unsaid words.
“Hold up. Before you ask me to leave, I wanted to extend an invitation.” He unfurled his body, erasing some of the space between us, his eyes eager on mine. No, it couldn’t be. Was Adrián about to shoot his shot? Was I about to be propositioned? This must be the start of my Hot Girl to Ho Girl transition because I’d never been more tempted to say yes.
“So, instead of going to whatever hostel you had at Aguimar, I wanted to invite you to my family’s cabanas. We have a little ten-cabin property, very humble but comfortable. I’d love to host you.”
The twinge in my chest couldn’t be disappointment. Adrián was offering me an honorable proposal. Here, I was imagining two weeks of a calisthenics-comparable sex-a-thon.
“Will you be in the city, or will you be in Aguimar?” I held my breath, his answer as crucial as the air around me. He closed the gap between us, his cologne reminding me of my lust-filled dreams. I swayed closer to him.
“Yes, I’ll be there. When you told me you still had two weeks here, the first thing that came to mind was how I could be part of them. I know you have a life in the States, but I can’t waste another two weeks wondering what it would mean to be in your presence without any walls between us,” he whispered. “I’ll be respectful. I know two weeks is a short time, but we can at least get to know each other better.”
He pushed back, and I pretended to be unaffected. He grinned and shook his head at me.
“Well, I already had a reservation. I mean, Anita went through a lot to get it for me, and I...well, you said two weeks, and then I leave? I don’t know if it would be smart to pursue anything.” Was the babble the best I could pull off? Ugh. Thank God for clarity. Logic came to the rescue just in time. My head had conjured many ways I wanted to spend the next fourteen days with Adrián. None of the ways involved clothes. But pursuing those wishes didn’t make sense.
“Genevieve, this is our chance.” His velvet, smooth voice soothed me. My famed logical brain seemed to have taken the rest of the morning off as I stood weighing the decision. How wild would it be to ditch my plans, and go with the flow? To experience life without a detailed plan?
“Give me until midday to give you an answer.”
“Okay, I’ll leave now to give you some space, but I’ll be waiting,” he whispered, the scent of peppermint melding with his cologne. I nodded, feigning calmness, but inside my heart had started a HIIT circuit.
Leaving with Adrián sounded like a dangerous proposal. And I’d just become a thrill seeker.