Chapter 29 Rosa

ROSA

Iwake up to the sunlight peeking through the curtain, and as I roll over to check the time, I feel something heavy pulling on my side of the blanket.

My head whips back, and I see a peacefully sleeping Mateo, his hands tucked under the pillow, his broad chest on display. I suddenly realize that I’m naked, and my eyes widen when I lift up the blanket from his lap, seeing that he’s also naked.

When did we get here? And more importantly, how? I only remember that I went over when he arrived from the hospital, and I might’ve overheard him calling out my name while I was taking a shower from the other side of the wall, but I don’t remember how we got into my bed. Something’s not right.

I turn back to check on the time, but my clock’s wheels are spinning around in fast motion, not stopping at all. I turn it, and take out the battery, then put it back, but it’s still not stopping. What the hell?

“Hmm.” I feel a hand snake around me, and Mateo pulls me back into a cuddle. I decide not to think about the clock anymore, focusing on the man beside me.

“I think my clock has officially died.” He chuckles, then I continue. “How did you sleep?”

“Never better.” He gives a quick peck on my cheek, then leans back into his pillow. “What about you?”

“I…don’t know? I woke up with a strange feeling and… I don’t remember how we got here and what we did last night.” My eyebrows furrow, still not understanding what’s happening.

“You don’t?” He pops up on his elbow facing me, then continues. “Well, we…” He starts talking, but his voice comes out muffled. I see his mouth move, but it’s like I’m suddenly deaf, my ear filtering out his words. What the…

“I… I can’t hear you. I don’t know what you’re saying,” I say, but as if he can’t hear me either, he keeps on talking. “Teo,” I call his name, and even as he’s looking at me, it’s like he can’t really see me.

Then, as I look closer, a red liquid starts flowing out of his mouth, and it doesn’t take long until I realize it’s blood.

“Mateo, you’re bleeding!” I scream, the flow getting heavier and heavier, it seems like he could bleed out anytime.

I push the blanket to his mouth, asking him if he knows what’s happening, but he doesn’t stop talking. His mouth keeps moving, gesturing in the air with his other hand, then my eyebrows furrow again. His hand, it’s…it’s normal.

“Where’s your cast? Did they take it off already?” I ask, and he finally stops talking. He looks into my eyes, then falls back on the bed, and his body starts shaking in a seizure, blood splattering over his body.

“Mateo! Oh my god… Wake up! Wake up!” My own voice gets muffled before my head starts to spin, and out of my will, I fall back on the bed as I’m hit with a blackout.

“Wake up!” The sound of a woman’s high-pitched echo startles me, and I sit up in bed, covered in sweat, my breathing heavy. What the actual fuck was that?

I look around the room, seeing that the sun is already up high, the clock is normal, pointing at 10:34 AM. I let out a big sigh, texting Mateo before I do anything else.

Rosa

You alive?

I wait a couple of minutes, hoping he’s near the phone, then I see the three dots pop up.

Mateo

Kind of. Why?

Just asking. I’ll see you at 7.

I sigh again, relieved that he didn’t actually die. That was a weird fucking dream.

The day goes on, and I have mostly managed to forget about the nightmare. I showered and washed my hair, did (late) yoga with Lana, catching up with her and updating her on my love life.

Now I’m putting on my new red dress, getting ready for the date with Mateo.

This is our first one, after we went official on Monday.

People have gone crazy in the comments under that post. They’re trying to figure out who the mystery lady is.

As I’m making the finishing touches on my hair, I hear a knock on the door.

“Hey, pendejo.” I greet him first, as he seems to be taken aback by my looks. “What, cat got your tongue?”

He clears his throat, then finally speaks. “You could say that. Can we go? Some are already waiting outside.”

“Alright, yeah. Let’s go.” I take one last look in the mirror, grab my purse, and then head outside.

As we step outside the hotel, the flashes of the cameras light up.

I quickly sneak into the car, letting Mateo shine, taking a couple of pictures, and signing some stuff for the fans.

Even if it’s late at night, he takes time to stop and appreciate his fans.

This is one of the few things I like about him.

After a few minutes, he slides in beside me, and as I realize our closeness, my mind wanders to flashbacks from Canada.

How turned on I was by him, how sexy it was in the back of a limousine, how much he enjoyed it, how his fingers—No.

Dangerous waters, Rosalia. This is just for show. None of this is real.

“So, where are we going?” I ask, hoping the small talk will get my mind off the dirty thoughts.

“It’s a surprise.” He doesn’t look at me when he replies; he just keeps staring out the tinted window.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, and even if I’m not supposed to care, I do. Just a little.

“What?” His eyebrows furrow at my question. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I can see something’s bothering you, Teo.” My voice softens, trying to lure him out of his shell. If we won’t get along, this whole thing is going to feel like torture, and I swear I’m trying my best. But he’s impossible.

“I’m fine. I just wasn’t in the mood for a fake date right now, however sexy my date is.” I would take it as a compliment if his comment didn't sound mocking.

“Do you really have to mess up our every interaction? It wasn’t my idea to go out, but you definitely need this more than me, so I would appreciate it if you'd at least try to make it work.” I raise my voice slightly as annoyance takes over me. But as always, it’s like I’m talking to a wall.

“Mess up? You’re the one having unrealistic expectations of this fake relationship.

You accepted the deal, and hell, you get paid for it awfully well.

So I’m sorry I’m not pretending that I like you when we’re out of the camera’s sight.

” He fights back, and I just scoff at his reply.

I can’t believe that he once again made a good night turn into a sour one.

I didn’t put on this dress for this grumpy ass.

The rest of the ride goes by in silence, both of us stubbornly standing by our points.

He calls this groveling? Let’s see how well his image will do if I act less affectionate around him.

We arrive at a fancy restaurant not so long after, and I shiver at the chilly weather as we head towards the entrance.

“Hi. Table for two, name’s Acosta,” he says with a deep voice, the hostess looking him up and down, then checks the list of reservations.

“Right this way, please.” We follow them upstairs, then she leads us to a table set on the balcony.

It’s slightly separated from the rest of the restaurant, but it’s still close, so people can see us. We’re close enough that paparazzi can take pictures of us. Great choice, Vickie and Clover.

“Here are the menus. What would you like for drinks?” A waitress comes up to us, asking with a smile, looking at me.

“Can we get a bottle of red wine, please? Strongest one. Thank you.” I smile back and then start inspecting the menu, ignoring Mateo’s piercing look at my choice of drink. Up your ass, pendejo. You made me mad, so now suffer the consequences.

“Just water, please. Two.” She nods, then goes to another table.

“Just say it. What did I do now?” I ask with an annoyed tone. This man’s dancing on my nerves.

“Do you always drink this much?” he asks, and my eyes widen. He acts like I’m an alcoholic or something.

“Only if my fake boyfriend can’t let me live in peace.” I shoot back, not letting him have the last word. I have a better question: does he really have to act like this all the time?

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