Chapter 16 #2
“I’ve always known,” she admits shyly. “I had a crush on you, Sebastian. No one knew, I think. I just couldn’t wrap my head around you being interested in me. We seemed to be on opposite sides of the spectrum.”
I cup her cheek, my thumb dragging lightly across her lip. “Opposite sides of the spectrum balance each other out, mi Amor . And there’s no one more perfect for balancing me than you. I’m relieved you finally see the same thing I’ve always seen. That we’re perfect together.”
A buzzing noise wakes me up, and it takes me a minute to recognize the weight sprawled across me is Isabella.
A sleepy smile covers my face as I breathe in her perfect sugared vanilla scent.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I planned to keep her up most of the night.
I make a mental note to order more condoms, because I’d only ordered a box of six, and now only have two left.
Isabella’s pussy is my nirvana, and I plan to camp out there as often as she’ll let me.
The buzzing happens again, and I root around the nightstand to grab my phone.
Mom: We’re driving down your driveway.
Mom: We’re parking the car.
Mom: Sebastian! Is it safe to come inside?
Mom: I better not see something inappropriate in there.
Mom: We’re getting Camila her breakfast.
Mom: Two minutes, and I’m sending her up to wake you up. Then YOU can explain why Isabella is in your bed.
As much as I’d love to tell Camila that Isabella and I are together now, I don’t exactly want to have the birds and the bees conversation with my five-year-old right now. And it should definitely be something Isabella is ready for.
Shit. We haven’t really talked about what happens now.
Moving forward. How should we act together?
Can I be affectionate? Should we remain relatively professional in front of Camila?
Dammit. I meant to bring this up last night, but clearly my dick began running all the blood in my body, and I could no longer form constructive thoughts.
I carefully extract myself from under Isabella, holding my breath as she sighs and rolls toward the other side of the bed. I respond to my mother as I’m tiptoeing into my closet.
Me: Keep her down there. I’ll be down in a minute.
Mom: I assume things went well?
Me: How much information are you hoping to get here, Mamá?
Mom: Much less than you assume, mi bebé. Did you put your heart on the line? Does she know that you’re in love with her?
Me: I’ve never shied away from telling Isabella how I feel. Now I know she actually believes me.
Mom: What will you be telling Camila?
Me: Mom, can we discuss this in a few minutes when I get downstairs?
Mom: As if your daughter will allow us to have an adult conversation.
I chuckle quietly as I throw on a pair of shorts and a loose tee-shirt.
She’s not wrong about that. It isn’t that Camila expects to be the focus whenever she’s around adults.
She has too many questions about the world around her, so it makes carrying on a conversation a bit challenging.
But I love watching her mind decipher information, and how she learns is pretty remarkable.
As I jog down the stairs, I follow the sound of my beautiful girl excitedly chirping about what she hopes to do today. “Hi Daddy! Did you miss me?”
I nuzzle against her head as I scoop her into my arms. “Of course, mi Chiquita . The house is quiet without you.”
“You know what we need?” Camila asks, and I see the calculated look in her eyes. She’s about to ask for an animal of some kind, I just know it .
“What, Camila?” I reply, sighing as I deposit her in her chair in the kitchen. I notice extra marshmallows in her cereal, and I raise an eyebrow at my dad. He stifles a smile as he buries his head in a magazine.
“Well,” Camila begins, “I spend lots of nights with Abuelito and Abuelita . You must be so lonely here. And Butterscotch doesn’t make nearly enough noise to keep you company.”
“No, Butterscotch is a fairly quiet cat.” He’s also pretty dumb, but if he makes Isabella happy, he’s fine with me. I squeeze my eyes closed because I know I’ll give my daughter whatever she asks.
“He needs a little brother,” Camila says innocently, beaming at me. Her eyes dart to the stairs as Isabella shuffles into the room holding Butterscotch. Camila squeals and Isabella immediately places the cat in her lap.
“Who needs a little brother?” Isabella asks, yawning. Her eyes have yet to catch mine, but my parents both stare in awe at her. In fact, I’m staring at her.
Even though she has most of her wardrobe hung in the guest room closet, she went into my closet and grabbed my things.
I have a visceral reaction to seeing her in my plaid pajama pants and a worn tee-shirt from one of Luca’s first games with the Denver Wolves.
He signed it, and I proudly showed my parents afterward. They know it’s mine.
I could play this cool. Wink and move on. But in this moment, knowing that only a few short hours ago, I was buried to the hilt inside her after wanting her for years, I’m through with being nonchalant.
She notices me striding toward her and her eyes widen dramatically.
For a half-second, my steps falter as I worry I’ll push her away, but then I see a grin tug at the corner of her mouth.
With one hand on her hip and the other into her beautiful hair, I take her lips in a kiss that is definitely not PG, but not obscene either.
I feel Isabella’s hands clench at my shirt as she sighs into my mouth.
Breaking off the kiss, I smile softly. “Good morning, mi amor .”
“Hi,” she whispers, biting her lip as her fingers absentmindedly trace across my chest. When my father clears his throat, I reluctantly step aside, but slide an arm around her waist.
“Alright. Ask your questions,” I say.
“I don’t have any questions, bebé . It was only a matter of time. Your story is written in the stars.” My mother smiles widely at us before walking over to give Isabella a hug.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Isabella says remorsefully, once my mom lets go.
Mom scoffs. “Nonsense. It isn’t a race, and we weren’t keeping a stopwatch as we waited. We know our son, and he’d do it all again if the same outcome was guaranteed.”
I nod in agreement. I may have had a momentary setback last night, but I know I’d have come up with a plan by this morning, had Isabella not made the first move.
My eyes drift to where Camila sits quietly with Butterscotch in her lap. While she doesn’t look mad, she doesn’t look happy either. Going to her, I crouch next to her chair. “Talk to me, Mija .”
Her eyes bounce between me and Isabella. “I know you love her, Daddy. Do you still love me?”
“Oh, Camila,” I say quietly. “No one will ever displace my love for you.”
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
I nod solemnly. “Absolutely.”
“Do you promise not to be mad?” she asks.
“Why?” I ask, a sense of paranoia drifts down my spine. “Is there something that you think I may be upset about?”
She nods as she looks up at my mother. Mom smiles ruefully at me. “Butterscotch really does need a little brother.”
I groan as I throw my head back, eyes closing.
Fuck. Please be something normal, like a cat or dog.
With Camila, anything is possible. She went through a complete fascination with tarantulas, excitedly accompanying me to southern Colorado for a tarantula migration.
There was a brief interest in penguins, as well as marmots, courtesy of that stupid marmot that wreaks havoc on Eternity Springs.
Camila even commented about a classmate having a corn snake a few weeks ago, and I literally might have a heart attack if my parents got her a snake.
“Daddy, it’s okay. I want to call him Oreo, cuz then he’ll match up with Butterscotch.
” I hear a very small mewl, and I open my eyes to find the cutest black and white kitten staring at me.
There were rumblings of a kitten recently, but I made it clear to my mother that I had no interest in taking on an animal.
I’m not sure if this is the same kitten, but the look of hope on my daughter’s face is one I simply refuse to crush.
“Oreo, huh,” I muse, taking him from my mom. Butterscotch sniffs the kitten once, hisses, then bolts from Camila’s lap. “I think it may take some time for Butterscotch to learn to be friends with Oreo.”
“It’s okay. It takes time to make friends,” Camila says matter-of-factly. Her eyes jerk toward Isabella again, and she lowers her voice to a whisper. “Is she my mom now?”
A pang of sadness overtakes me as I ghost a hand over Camila’s hair. Her blue eyes look at me so hopefully, and I hate that she recognizes the absence of her mother. I also refuse to lie to my daughter. “No, mi Chiquita . That’s not how it works.”
“Oh,” she says sadly, her eyes dropping to the floor. “All my friends have a mom. I thought that maybe …”
I hear a sniff as my mom listens. I hand her the kitten while I pull Camila into my arms. I walk her into the great room and sit on the couch with her in my lap.
“I know you want a mother, Mija . And while I can’t say for certain that Isabella will or won’t be in your life for a long time, we aren’t ready to assign any role to her.
But I know she cares for you a lot, and she likes spending time with you.
Now the three of us can spend time together. ”
“My friend Amanda said she’s always with a babysitter cuz her mom goes on dates. What’s a date?” Camila asks.
“A date is when two people go out together somewhere because they like each other.”
“So I’ll be at Abuelita’s a lot,” she says sullenly.
“No. Absolutely not. You are my priority, Camila. You are the number one girl in my life. While I may want to take Isabella out occasionally just the two of us, I promise I won’t leave you at Abuelita’s any more than I do now.
I can’t come between the two of you and your special cookie afternoons, now can I? ”
Camila giggles as she shakes her head. “ Abuelita always lets me get a cookie with candy inside it.”
I chuckle. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”