CHAPTER NINETEEN ALARA #2
I felt just fine yesterday. I felt normal two days ago when Diego stayed the night after our pool escapade.
We didn’t mention life or snowboarding. Instead, we got lost in each other for countless hours until fatigue took over.
The way I’m currently feeling is my body protesting – telling me to slow down.
It’s not lost on me that I’ve been working tremendously hard lately.
“Honey,” Mom says worriedly. “Your car’s still in the driveway. Are you skipping work today?”
I frown and sit up, rubbing my left temple. “No?”
“Are you sick?”
“No?”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
When my head starts spinning, I close my eyes and suppress a grunt. “What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
“Oh, no,” I whine. “I slept through my alarm. I was supposed to open and—”
“Dad went in – don’t worry. You’re not feeling well, are you?”
“No,” I whisper. “Nothing a few painkillers won’t—”
“Stay in,” Mom says, with that stern tone of hers she uses when she knows I’m about to be stubborn. “I’ll call the lodge and arrange for another instructor to fill in for you this afternoon.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue with me, young lady. I have an online meeting in fifteen, but I’ll bring you some chicken soup for lunch. Make sure to get some rest, okay?”
I sigh in defeat and slump back on the mattress. “Okay. Can you tell Diego to call me when he’s on his break?”
“Sure thing.” A smile is decipherable through her words, but I’m too frail to think about it. She hangs up, and, not even a second later, I’m dozing off.
I’m not sure how long I sleep before my phone rings again, and when I answer I shiver, even though I’m buried under a pile of blankets. Diego’s rough voice greets me like a ray of sunshine.
“Alara, baby,” he murmurs. “What happened? Are you alright? I have your daily dose of milk waiting on your desk.”
I smile. The concern in his voice is adorable. “I’m not feeling good. But I’ll try to come in this afternoon.” I know that goes against what Mom said, but I hate letting everyone down.
“What? No.”
“Diego, I have—”
“Are you being fucking stubborn right now? We’ll manage without you. I just need you to tell me what you had planned for this afternoon’s skiing lesson.”
I shift to lie on my side and put him on speaker. That picture of him sleeping with Tabby fills my screen, causing my chest to squeeze with something I can’t decipher. “Work on descending in a straight line and making an emergency stop.”
“Snowplough technique?”
“Yes,” I answer so weakly that I can’t help but find myself pathetic.
“I’ve got it.”
“You do.”
“I’ll come see you after the lesson,” he says softly. I can hear some chatter in the background – my dad and Thomas – and I instantly feel bad for abandoning them today. We’re nearing Christmas, which means it’s the busy season, and here I am, being a reckless idiot and getting sick.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists. “I want to see you.”
I sniff. The back of my throat burns, but I don’t know why. “You sound like you miss me.”
Diego chuckles, and it feels like a warm blanket enveloping me. “You wish. Alright, I need to go. I’m on front desk duty today.”
“Don’t crash the system.”
“I know that you think I’m still incompetent at this job. I’d like to point out that you were the one who trained me, so, if I make a mistake, it’s on you.”
“I’ll take the blame.” My smile falls, guilt pooling in my stomach again. “Diego? I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he assures tenderly. “I just want you to focus on yourself for once. Go back to sleep, and work on coming back to me as the bright, positive, beautiful girl I can’t stop thinking about.”
A knock sounds on my door around 6 p.m. After sleeping for four hours straight, I felt more energized, despite my sore throat and the receding migraine.
The dull pain that had taken over me when Mom called vanished as I got the rest my body had been begging for.
So, I cleaned my little cabin to keep myself busy.
Diego storms inside as soon as I open the door, holding a dish covered with aluminum foil.
“Mom made some enchiladas last night and I brought you the leftovers,” he says in greeting.
Closing the door, I watch as he deposits the plate on the kitchen counter before turning to me, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Did you clean around here?”
“Yes.” I shrug.
“Alara,” he mutters on a sigh. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
I roll my eyes and take his coat from him and hang it in the closet. “I have a migraine and an itchy throat. I’m not on my deathbed.”
He shakes his head. “But you must be hurting.”
I chuckle and wrap my arms around his waist as he pulls me in. I instantly feel better, as if the sound of his heartbeat is a melody that can soothe everything. “You’re such a man.”
“Yeah, yeah.” His lips brush over my forehead. “You’re kind of burning up.”
“I am? I’m a bit cold, though.”
“Explains why it feels like a fucking sauna in here.” The next breath, he carries me bridal style to the couch, ignoring my yelps of protest. Dropping me on the cushion before putting two blankets over me, he tucks me in until there’s nothing left uncovered except for my face.
He brushes my hair away from my forehead and leans in to gently kiss it. “Don’t move.”
“I was going to shower,” I retort, listening as he moves around the kitchen and turns on the oven.
“Okay.”
I know it’s a natural instinct for him to take care of others, because that’s who he is – a caretaker, a caregiver – but I’ve made a promise to myself to take care of him. Though I have to admit it feels nice to receive this particular kind of attention.
I don’t realize he has disappeared until he comes back and scoops me up again, and walks to the bathroom.
I try to read his expression to see if there are any hints of discomfort. “Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
He frowns. “If that was you calling yourself heavy, you should know I lift double your weight at the gym. Well, when I could still go, that is.”
“So, what do you want me to say? Congratulations? It’ll only inflate your ego.”
A mirthless laugh escapes him. “Sick or not, you’re still a brat.”
I tighten my grip around him and hide my foolish smile when he sets me down on the bathroom counter. The bath is running, the scent of lavender permeating the small room. A set of satin pajamas is neatly folded on top of the cabinet, along with a thick pair of fuzzy socks and some underwear.
“What are you doing, Diego?”
“Taking care of what’s mine.”
He says it with such reverence, such certainty, that it makes my heart stall. He can’t say shit like that – it makes me want to be really his.
He strokes my cheek with his knuckles as I gaze up at him with a lazy smile. I part my legs open and welcome him in between, and when he steps forward, he cradles my jaw and checks my face, then my body, like he’s looking for any injury.
He swallows, the worry in his eyes evident. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
I lean into his touch. “It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”
A small sigh flies through his nose. “I know. My hardworking girl. Can I take off your clothes?”
My. Girl. Someone wake me up from this dream.
All I can manage is a nod. He’s being so cautious, so careful, and while I usually hate it when I’m treated like I’m made of porcelain, I realize that Diego sees me as a force to be reckoned with, yet not an invincible one.
With one swift movement, he pulls off my oversized hoodie and top together, leaving my breasts to bounce free. He doesn’t linger his gaze the way he’d do if I weren’t sick, and pulls me down to my feet to tug my sweatpants off.
He’s still Diego, so he gently swats my ass when I step into the tub. The warm water lapping at my feet makes a soft moan rise in my throat, and when I sink into the bubbly bath, I close my eyes. This was exactly what I needed.
I sit with my back to him, hugging my knees to my chest and turn my neck just in time to see him kneel down on the rug. He kisses me behind the ear, the nape of my neck, the place where my neck and shoulder meet, before grabbing the shower head.
“So, something happened during the skiing lesson,” he says while wetting my hair.
I tense. “Was there an accident?”
“No, nothing like that. You know the ski instructor who replaced you?”
“I have no idea who the lodge called,” I confess, and watch him reach for the bottle of shampoo to our right.
“Her name was Mia. Or Mila? Mandy? Molly? Shit, I can’t remember.”
I huff out a laugh. “You’re such an ass. Can’t you remember another girl’s name?”
“Not if I’m not interested in her, no.”
His fingers sift delicately through my hair as he massages my scalp and spreads the shampoo around my roots. I try to hold in a sigh of contentment, marveling at the way it feels to be taken care of.
“What did she do?” I ask, dread clawing at my throat. I hope she was kind and good to my students, or else—
“She was hitting on me.”
I stare blankly at the tiles before me, watching a bead of water roll down and trying to ignore the tightness in my chest. I absolutely have no right to be feeling jealous, but in the back of my mind all I can think is: Diego is mine.
“I can’t blame her,” I say nonchalantly. I’m not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting.
“You calling me hard to resist?” The amusement and smugness in his deep voice make me roll my eyes.
As he starts rinsing the suds out of my hair, I fight the sudden urge to turn around and claim his lips. “More like hard to tolerate,” I snap back, which causes a rumble of laughter to vibrate in his throat.
I know I have to prepare myself for the worst – for the day he leaves, and that could be anytime now.
He’s going to go back to Utah and to training, and certainly meet another woman who meets all his standards.
A woman who’s not just a fling. The simple thought hurts me more than it should, but that’s the way it is.
I’m trying to stay patient and gentle with him, hoping he sees what’s right in front of him – the town, his family and friends, me.
He’s now conditioning the length of my hair and focusing on the tips. “There’s only one woman that I allow to hit on me, and that’s you.”
Good thing he can’t see the way he effortlessly brings a smile to my face. “Careful, I might start flirting with you now.”
“That’s cool with me. I’ll flirt back.”
Everything is so easy with Diego. He’s the easiest person to talk to, and he’s the best person to listen to me.
I’m about to push his buttons again when my phone rings in the living room.
“I’ve got it.” Diego quickly rinses his hands and leaves me to finish as he jogs to retrieve my phone. “It’s Gaby,” he calls out.
“Just answer it,” I shout back, starting to wash my body.
Diego walks into the bathroom with my ringing phone in hand, his attention set on my hands drifting down my chest. “How about I don’t answer and do that for you instead?”
“Take the call.” I bite back a smile, grabbing the shower head to rinse off my hair and body.
He feigns disappointment, then focuses back on the cell. “Hey,” he says, hitting the speaker button.
“Hey, bitch,” Gaby says cheerily. “Wait. Diego?”
“Good thing you can recognize your brother’s voice,” he mutters sardonically.
“Where is Alara? Why are you answering her phone? What are you doing at her place?”
“Jeez, you the FBI or something? I just came by to drop off the enchiladas leftovers. She’s in the bathroom as we speak.”
There’s a beat of silence. “Oh. Tell her I’m on my way.”
My eyes widen as I unplug the drain and stand, accepting the towel Diego hands me. His jaw tightens as he looks at my naked, wet body.
“You are?” he asks, helping me out of the tub.
“I’m actually already here. Just going to say hi to her parents then I’ll be over.”
“Okay.” Diego hangs up and runs a hand over his face. “Mierda.”
I chuckle at the panic in his tone. “It’s okay.”
“I think she suspects something,” he admits, while scratching the back of his head.
“Relax.”
Walking over to him, I pull him down by the back of his neck, brushing my lips over his. He takes a shaky breath before kissing me. Slowly. Tenderly. Passionately enough to make my mind go into a frenzy. When I try to pull away, he grabs my hips and keeps me in his space, deepening the kiss.
“Gaby’s going to be here in a few seconds,” I whisper.
He rests his forehead against mine, groaning in frustration. “Way to ruin the mood.”
“Just act cool. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Act cool?” he parrots, walking out of the bathroom and pointing to his crotch. “I have a fucking boner, Alara. How am I supposed to act—”
The front door opens right on cue as I slam my door to finish getting ready. Listening to their voices, I stare at my reflection. Despite the evident fatigue marring my features, I look serene. Happy. Radiant. It doesn’t take a genius to know Diego’s the reason for it all.
Once I’m dressed and done with my skincare and hair routine, I walk into the living space to see Diego setting plates on the kitchen island and Gaby checking on the enchiladas in the oven.
“So what?” Gaby asks when she sees me, an eyebrow arched. “You and my brother are besties now?”
Diego and I exchange a glance. A secret look. A secret smile. And then we laugh, and Gaby looks utterly confused. It’s not lost on me that she’ll start asking questions soon, and when I tell her the truth, I doubt I’ll be able to hide the way I truly feel about her brother.
Because I can’t even hide it from myself anymore.