CHAPTER EIGHTEEN VERA #2
It was all too much. I wouldn’t talk to anyone about Dad. I wasn’t sure what to think about Mateo. The only girlfriends to confide in happened to be his sisters. The emotions were a storm of their own, raining down in heavy sheets, and with no way to let them out, they manifested as tears.
Don’t cry. Not in front of Mateo. Not here. But my chin quivered. That sting in my nose was burning like fire. I squeezed my eyes shut before a tear could escape.
Don’t cry, Vera.
A pair of large hands clamped around my hips. Then my feet were off the floor, and I was flying.
“Wh—” I gasped, my eyes popping open.
Mateo deposited me on the kitchen counter with a thud. “Take a breath, Vera.”
I tried to fill my lungs, but the air got lodged in my throat.
Mateo took my chin in his hand, holding my gaze. “Breathe.”
My inhale burned. But I breathed.
“You don’t have to right now,” he said. “But when you’re ready, you can talk to me.”
No, I couldn’t. If I cracked the lid on that box, if I let even a little bit of the pain free, it would break me into a thousand pieces. Besides, he couldn’t know the secrets about Dad.
“Pizza,” he said. “Yeah?”
I managed a nod.
He cupped my cheek, giving me a soft smile, then hoisted me off the counter. “Go relax.”
I shuffled to the living room, holding up the legs of the sweats as I walked, and curled into a corner to watch Allie.
She hefted a pink tub of Lego blocks from her toy stash and brought it over, dropping it in my lap. “He go, Ve-wa.”
“What should we build?”
Allie tapped her chin. It was something she’d picked up from Papa Harrison and was about the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
“A house?” I suggested. “Or a train?”
“Tain.”
“Good choice.” I opened the lid and took out the pieces to string together an alphabet train.
Mateo set the table and poured us each glasses of ice water.
The scents of pepperoni and marinara and baking dough filled the air as the pizza cooked.
And when it was done, we sat together, the three of us, eating a normal dinner, having a normal conversation about the work he’d done on the ranch today.
We watched a normal, precious little girl make a mess with pizza and the olives she tried to poke with her finger.
I helped get her ready for a bath and stood at the door to the bathroom while he washed her hair. Allie would give him orders. He’d let her boss him around.
Mateo had always been mesmerizing. The two of them together? It was magic.
When she was dressed in lavender pajamas and ready for bed, he fixed me with a stare. “Don’t go.”
It wasn’t a request.
He disappeared to Allie’s room to rock her to sleep while I retreated to the living room.
I tried sitting on the couch, but the flutters in my belly made it impossible to stay still, so I cleaned up the toys.
Mateo emerged as I was kneeling beside the coffee table to dismantle the Lego train.
“Is she asleep?” My voice was breathy, my heart racing. Would he kiss me tonight? What else was he planning?
It dawned on me for the first time just how close we were to his bedroom.
He crooked his finger as he walked toward me.
He crooked his freaking finger.
It was so unexpected, so incredibly hot, my jaw dropped. A shiver raced down my spine.
“Stand up.”
I couldn’t stand. I could barely breathe.
Mateo held out a hand. As soon as my palm was in his, tingles went zinging to my elbow. He hauled me to my feet, taking me by the shoulders as he closed the gap between us.
My chest brushed against his. My nipples pebbled beneath my bra.
“You kissed me last week.”
I gulped. “Sorry?”
“You should be sorry.” His hands threaded into the hair at my temples. “You kissed me before I could kiss you back.”
“Oh.” My. God.
“Oh.” A grin stretched across his mouth as he bent closer. “My turn.”
Mateo sealed his mouth over mine, swallowing my gasp. He hummed, a sound so intoxicating and sinful, my body liquified. If not for the grip he had on my face, I would have crashed to my knees.
I melted against him, whimpering as he slid his tongue across my lower lip. He coaxed my mouth open, and when I parted, his tongue did a lazy swirl against mine. He tasted spicy and male and incredible.
My hands came to his chest, fisting his shirt.
His arms banded around me, holding me close, as his body, hard and strong, bent around mine.
I lifted up on my toes and snaked my arms around his neck, locking my body to his. Our tongues tangled and dueled. He nipped and sucked until I whimpered.
This kiss was better than I ever could have imagined. All those nights I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Mateo? The dream couldn’t compete with reality.
I wanted to crawl inside him and never leave. The world beyond us vanished. It got fuzzy at first, the colors blurring and swirling, then it faded to nothing.
There were no fears. No pain.
It felt so good not to worry. Not to hurt. Not to think. It was like being numb to anything except Mateo. The relief was as addicting as his lips.
He slanted his mouth over mine, delving deep to explore every corner of my mouth. He growled against my lips, the vibration of his chest making me shiver.
Fire licked my veins. The pulse between my legs was almost unbearable.
More. I needed more. I loosened my hold around his shoulders to reach between us, taking the hem of his shirt in my grip.
I dragged it up his ribs, then slipped my fingers beneath the cotton and flattened my palms on his stomach.
My fingertips traced the hard ridges and valleys of his washboard abs.
God, I wanted this shirt off. I wanted to see him, all of him.
My hand slid higher, lifting the shirt as I splayed my fingers across his ribs. But before I could reach his chest, he shifted away.
“Fuck, Vera.” His breathing was as ragged as mine. His throat bobbed as his eyes locked with mine. Then he took a step away.
My heart plummeted as he righted his shirt.
That was it? We were stopping? Everything that had vanished during the kiss came rushing forward. The numbness faded.
“I promised you slow,” he said.
“I never asked for slow.”
“I don’t . . . I’m not . . .” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I want to do this right. For your first time.”
My first time? Oh. He thought I was a virgin. Considering my history, that made sense. “It wouldn’t be my first time.”
I’d had a boyfriend in high school and lost my virginity to him when I was sixteen. Seth Hendricks.
What was Seth doing now? Was he working or going to school? He’d been sweet and gentle. Dull. When Seth had kissed me, the world hadn’t faded away.
Tonight, I needed the world to fade away. I needed Mateo to kiss me again.
“Noted.” Mateo’s jaw ticked. What did that mean? Was he jealous? Disappointed? “I still think we should take it slow.”
Slow sounded a lot like rejection. Slow sounded a lot like pity.
I brushed past him for the bathroom, locking myself inside.
With fumbling fingers, I traded his sweats for the clothes I’d hung to dry. Except my jeans were still wet and hard to drag up my legs. My sweater was cold and smelled like rain and dirt. I didn’t bother with my socks.
With them shoved in a pocket, I came out of the bathroom and found Mateo waiting.
His hands were braced on his hips. “Might as well turn around and put those dry clothes back on. You’re not running out of here like this. Not again.”
He’d have to barricade the door to stop me. The look on his face said he might just do it.
We stared at each other in a silent standoff. Could I beat him for the door? I was fast. But probably not fast enough.
“Daddy!” came a tiny voice from behind Allie’s closed door. That sweet girl had come to my rescue.
“Shit.” His nostrils flared and he held up a finger. “Do not leave.”
I stayed put until he crossed Allie’s threshold. Then I bolted, rushing for the door to yank on my boots. With my toes squelching in the wet insoles, I slipped out the door.
And drove home alone. Where I could suffer in peace.
Alone.