9
NICO
“ N ico.”
“Yes, mi reina.”
“Please don’t make me fall for you. I can’t afford a broken heart.” I practically lose control of the car hearing the words that fall from her mouth.
Buttoned up Valentina would never say something like that to me. I may have only just met her weeks ago, but I know this to be a fact. I guess it’s true what people say…drunk words are sober thoughts.
Her head lolls and she falls asleep, soft snores spilling from her beautiful mouth. Does this mean she likes me? Why else would she say that? Now I’m thinking that straightening up and being a good boy may not be so bad if I can be with someone like Valentina San Ramón.
When we pull up to her place, I have no idea where residents park and even if I did, I’d have no clue as to her parking spot. I decide to park right in front of the main entrance and see the same valet rushing towards me.
Does this man ever sleep ?
“Good evening sir,” he greets.
“Hey. Um, Ms. San Ramón was unable to drive this evening and I’m not quite sure where to park or where her apartment is so that I can help her up. Would you be able to help me with that?”
“Of course. First, I need to see if you are on her approved list.” He takes two steps away but I reach out and hold onto his arm.
“I doubt I am. Yesterday was the first time I’ve been here. Maybe there is a way you can let me pass just this one time.” His jaw clenches and the look in his eyes tells me he walks a straight line when it comes to the rules. “Maybe I can wake her a little.”
I run around the car and open her door. She moans and slowly rolls her eyes open, and lifts her arm like it weighs a hundred pounds. Though I know it’s not her intention, her hand lands on my cheek with a smack.
“Am I dreaming? Please say that we didn’t have sex.”
I clear my throat. “No, beautiful. We didn’t have sex. But we are at your place and I can’t help you up unless I’m on your approved list. Do you think you can stand long enough to tell your nice doorman to let me in?”
Her heavy eyes wander to where he stands just behind me, then back to me. With great effort, she spins her legs and I immediately move to help her out. I steady her, wrapping my arm around her waist, and she rests her weight on me.
“Hi Stephan.” She slurs her words and smiles through it.
“Hello Valentina. Are you okay this evening?”
“Yup.” The P pops off her lips and her eyes close longer than a blink. “It’s okay if he helps me up. I had a little too much magratitas. Margitas. Marga…oh you know. ”
Stephan, as I learn his name, laughs and quickly covers it up. “Yes ma’am. I know what you mean. As long as you are okay being escorted by…”
“Nico Loving,” I remind him.
Apparently he’s not a football fan.
“If you’re okay with Mr. Loving escorting you up to your apartment, I will get your car parked and store your keys.”
With a loopy smile, she pats his cheek and wraps a weak arm over my shoulder.
We stumble through the lobby to the elevators and I press the call button.
The doors open and she trips over her heeled feet stepping in.
My grip on her makes sure she doesn’t land on her face.
When I stare at the floor buttons and I realize I have no idea which one to press.
“Hey beautiful. What floor do you live on?”
She focuses on the buttons and reaches out, her long finger depressing the number seven. Her body falls back against mine and I gulp down the growing attraction.
Valentina San Ramón is everything a man could want in a woman.
Beautiful, intelligent, sexy, successful.
But the one thing she is not interested in is me.
Why would she be? I’m the younger, cocky man who likes a different woman every night.
Not to mention my secret addiction, and a woman like her would never give me a second look.
I’m positive that if she weren’t trying to “fix me”, she would never even bother nor care to know who I am.
I look down the long halls in both directions, once again not knowing where to go.
“Val. I’m going to need you to help me out a little. I don’t know where you live and I’m going to need your keys to help you inside.”
She takes a deep breath and lifts her chin, and spins to her right. Too quickly, I may add, because she puts her arms out to the side and says, “whoa.” With my hands on her waist, I follow closely behind her as she guides us to her apartment.
We come to apartment 718 and she presses her thumb to a black pad on the door where a lock should be.
She tries once and it beeps with a red light.
She tries a second time, getting the same result.
Her face contorts, her brows knitting together with frustration, and she narrows her eyes at the door.
“Oh. Oops.” She laughs, throwing her head back against my shoulder. “Wrong one.” Her head swivels over her shoulder and mine and points. “It’s that one.”
Apartment 721 sits across the hall and we spin. She gives it another go and this time, the door unlocks and I push it open for her.
We walk into a dimly lit foyer and shuffle the short distance to a large open room.
Instead of a wall on the far side, windows highlight nighttime downtown Houston with all of the twinkling lights of buildings.
Her apartment is very sleek and cool with a pretty solid white color scheme, but in a sophisticated way.
I don’t have time to really focus because Valentina goes limp in my arms and I catch her, noticing she has fallen asleep. Or passed out. I don’t really know.
I cradle her in my arms and she rests her head against my chest. I take a moment to study her face up close like I never have, and probably never will.
There isn’t one thing about this woman that doesn’t completely entice me.
Not even her sour attitude towards me. If I’m being honest, I kind of like her short fuse.
It turns me on to know that I can get under her skin, a little.
My eyes scan her place and see a hallway to the right, behind the kitchen, that must lead to rooms. All the doors are closed except one, and I peek in to find a warm bedroom. Very opposite of her living space.
A large four poster bed sits with fluffy blankets and pillows on top.
As best as I can, I open her downy comforter and throw a few pillows to the side.
Gently laying her down, I move to remove her high heels and ponder the dangers of removing her clothes, for purposes of making her comfortable.
It can end in two ways; me sticking my hands down my pants to contain my raging erection from seeing her smooth body, or a foot to the face when she sobers up and assumes I’m taking advantage of her.
I decide it’s best to leave her as is and let her wake fully clothed.
When I tuck her in, I long to lean down and kiss her cheek but think better of it. Nothing good can come from that. Instead, I back out of the room slowly, my eyes glued to her the entire way.
I need to get out of here, and quick. I can’t trust myself around her. Desire burns inside of me, and not even an innocent sleep on the couch will cool it. That would only tempt me more with her just feet away.
My phone sits in my back pocket and I reach for it.
Me: Yo. I’m going to drop you a pin so you can come pick me up. I’ll wait in the lobby.
Chase: Oh…okay. I kinda assumed you would be staying there.
Me: No. Valentina passed out and I think it’s best if I leave .
The dots bounce and disappear, unsure of what could be taking him so long to respond.
Chase: Think you could Uber here? I’m kind of in the middle of something.
Oh shit. I know what that means. I won’t be seeing Chase until tomorrow, and there is no way I’m going to drop in on their party.
Me: Get my car to my place before eleven tomorrow or I’ll come hunt your ass down.
He gives me a thumbs up and returns to whatever he was occupied with before I texted him.
The gold key sits heavy in my front pocket –where it always is– and as much as I want to fight the urge, the pleasure I have denied myself these past couple of weeks is overpowering.
I order an Uber and quickly dash from her place to the lobby where a car waits by the curb.
I jump inside and as we drive away from the tall building, I watch it fade into the distance and wonder what Valentina would have to say if only she knew my illicit secret.
I slip into the thin, pitch black alley that runs between two buildings, looking over my shoulder for eyes that may be watching.
I’m sure there are none as it’s very late and the streets of downtown Houston are quiet on Saturday nights.
I’ve learned that the crowds find their way to the outer rim of downtown to the trendy areas.
There they sit in cigar lounges drinking smoky whiskey, dance to loud bass and flashing lights, or toss back shots with fellow college students.
But me…I creep in the shadows to my own kind of gluttony.
A shiny gold knob and lock sit against a black door set into a black brick wall. The door looks like nothing more than a service door to a business. Little do they know the secrets that lie behind it.
I stick my hand into my right pocket and grip the gold key, the cool metal pressing against my palm.
Removing it, I take it between two fingers and slide it into the lock.
The red tassel sways when I flip the key and hear the click of the lock opening.
With one last look over my shoulder, I open the door and quickly step inside, slamming and locking the door behind me.
It was one thing that was stressed to me when I was first given my key.
“The most important rule of all is to always lock the door behind you. Just like your parents taught you to do when you were home alone to keep the bad guys out. Only here, it’s to keep our secrets in.”