CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ALARA #2
His fingers entwine with mine, and, a second later, we’re sitting on the bench inside the vintage photo booth that the town puts at everyone’s disposal.
My heart starts racing – there’s something so romantic about taking photos in a confined place like this one and keeping their memories alive on a strip of paper.
Pulling me onto his lap, Diego fumbles with the screen, then whispers in my ear, “Smile.”
We pull out our tongues on the first shot. We laugh at ourselves on the second one. On the third one, Diego cradles my jaw while I smile at the flashing light. And for the last one his mouth falls onto mine, a kiss full of unspoken promises and whispered confessions, full of adoration.
We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, even though the camera stopped flashing seconds ago.
And, with each kiss, I can feel his smile against my lips and my heart drumming a little faster. Each beat is a melody, a certainty that says I’m completely his.
I think I’m screwed, but I don’t care.
I am terrified of what might happen if he leaves soon, and I have to brace myself for the crash, but I refuse to face reality.
It’s Christmas Eve today, and what’s magical about living in Blue Ridge Springs is that the chances of having a white Christmas are high. As I’m touching up my makeup, I glance out of the small window in the bathroom to look at the snow falling onto the backyard, blanketing it with a thick layer.
Well, walking to my parents’ place in high heels should be fun.
We’ve invited the Ramirezes to have dinner with us. Dad’s idea, but the thought of seeing Diego all dressed up thrills me. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to hide my adoration for him, though.
I saw him today. Yesterday. Every day of the freaking week, to be honest, and I already miss him. I don’t think there are enough words to describe the way he makes me feel – seen, protected, loved. I’ve never been so comfortable, so myself, than when I am with Diego.
He’s everything to me.
He’s wrapped himself around my heart like a warm blanket, and, in return, I’ve given him the love he deserves. As a reward, I’ve had the privilege of watching him bloom like a flower in the spring. Watching him find his old self again.
Diego has been participating in numerous activities across town lately.
He came with me and Gaby to the local library the other night, and we read Christmas stories to children.
Though he’d stayed in the back, he listened attentively.
He also wanted to take part in the amateur bake-off with Jordan.
They attempted to make a panettone, and I’ll leave it to the imagination how it went (spoiler alert: not great).
The intention was there, and they did make the public laugh with their dramatics.
Diego’s back to being the Diego I crushed on ten years ago. He loves making people smile and laugh, he’s optimistic and energetic. Electric. Fun.
Watching him find comfort in the town he grew up in has been beautiful to witness. It looks like he’s home again. Like he doesn’t want to leave – but maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me.
After applying a layer of lipstick, I snatch my long woolen coat and dash out of the door, my heels in hand and Ugg boots on my feet just for the short journey to the house.
The aromas of herbs and spices assault my senses as soon as I step inside the kitchen. Mom is checking on the lamb that’s slowly cooking, an apron tied over her classy jumpsuit. I notice the veggie roast she specifically made for me, sparking my appetite.
“Hi, sweetie.” She greets me with a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
My black halter-neck dress that reaches the middle of my thighs is paired with the high heels I’m currently stepping into. I’ve let my hair loose – the way Diego loves it – though it is styled in waves floating down my back.
“You don’t look too bad,” Jordan offers, as he enters the kitchen, dressed in a regal suit. He looks like he’s about to do business. “Trying to impress someone? Diego, perhaps?”
I busy myself with hanging my coat by the front door to hide my flushing face from my brother.
Diego and I have been extra careful around our families and friends, except for a slip-up or two – for example, that time when Jordan found Diego lying on top of me in Rock Snow’s backyard.
We were so freaking obvious, but Jordan hasn’t mentioned it.
And, yes, Mom and Dad know, but they promised to keep the secret to themselves.
Feeling reckless, I test out the waters. With a casual shrug, I step in front of him while Mom unties her apron, a knowing smile on her lips. Her internal radar is probably telling her that the Ramirezes will be here anytime now. “What if that’s my plan?” I ask nonchalantly.
Jordan’s expression is indecipherable. “Go for it. I don’t care. You’re a big girl, D’s a big guy, and he’s great. You already have a good chemistry, so why not explore things further?”
What?
That was easy.
“He’s leaving,” I point out, feeling my palms starting to sweat as I listen to a car parking in the driveway.
“Is he?” Then, he’s off to open the door to greet our guests, and I have no fucking clue what he means by those two words.
Mom gives me a cheeky grin and follows Dad to the foyer.
I take a breath, trying to rein in my nervousness and wishing my heart would stop pounding so erratically. My hands are already trembling from anticipation, because I know how hard it’ll be to pretend I’m just Diego’s friend tonight. How hard it’ll be for him to keep his hands to himself.
I listen to the commotion in the foyer, Gaby’s laugh booming louder than others, and fix my hair for the thousandth time.
“Alara!” Valentina gasps, and I turn around to smile at her. “You’re stunning!”
She’s handing me a Christmas rose that I deposit on the island before giving her a quick hug. “I love what you did to your hair.”
It’s usually straight, like Gaby’s, but tonight she’s wearing it curly.
She thanks me for the compliment, then wanders off into the living room, where music is playing on the record player.
Fire is burning in the hearth, and I just know it’s going to be a great night.
It means a lot that my parents invited them – I know the holiday season is hard for them, and that it doesn’t get any easier, so if we can make it better for them this year, then we’ll do everything in our power to help them have a good time.
Gaby tackles me in a long hug. “Mi reina, you look amazing.”
I compliment her on the dress she’s chosen – a long one with a slit on the right leg – which my brother seems to appreciate. I narrow my eyes at Jordan when he passes by me, and he just shrugs, mouthing what?
Mrs Ramirez enters the kitchen with a dish in hand and kisses me on both cheeks. “You’re beautiful, as always. Look, I made tres leches and, if you want to stop by tomorrow, I’ll make pozole.”
I take the plate from her hands and set it down on the countertop. “Thank you so much, but we’re having lunch at my grandparents’.”
She nods and goes to find my mom.
And then, when I go into the foyer as everyone settles in the living room, I think I might faint.
Diego’s fixing his hair in the mirror by the dresser next to the shoe rack, wearing a fitted white shirt and dress pants. As though he can feel my gaze burning through his back, he turns around, and I swear he loses balance as his mouth parts.
It all happens in slow motion. His eyes travel from my feet, up my bare legs, halting for a beat at my thighs, before continuing up until they reach my face. He blows out a breath, and steps toward me. “Alara,” he whispers raspily. “You look— Wow— You— Damn.”
I chuckle, feeling my cheeks burn. “At a loss for words, superstar?”
“You could say that,” he responds, scoffing a little.
I’m not sure how long we stand there, staring at each other like we can’t bring ourselves to look away. There’s a sudden pang inside my heart because I realize that I want to touch him, even if it’s just for a hug, but I can’t. It’s not what he wants, and I have to respect that.
“Alara?” Dad calls out, before stepping out in the foyer. Right on cue, Diego and I distance ourselves from each other, but Dad grins in amusement. “You think you can head downstairs to grab a few bottles? Diego, son, what’s your preference?”
Whenever Dad calls him son, there’s a certain softness that gleams in Diego’s eyes. Now that I know how hard it’s been for him since the loss of his father, I can only imagine how appreciative he is of my dad’s affection.
“Anything is fine,” he says.
“Grab one white and two reds?”
I nod at Dad before he disappears in the other room.
“Have you ever seen the wine cellar?” I ask Diego, maybe a tad too loudly. At least everyone will know where we’re headed.
A knowing smirk pulls at his enticing mouth. “Lead the way.”
The moment we’re at the bottom of the stairs, he pulls me into an alcove, backing me against the wall with his hand cupping the back of my head.
As I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him flush against me, his free hand finds the small of my back.
He sucks in a breath at the feel of my bare skin beneath his palm.
“Hi.” He drops his forehead to mine, then proceeds to steal every breath I take, every gasp I emit, and every last bit of my heart is claimed as his. He kisses me as though he hasn’t seen me in months.
I moan in his mouth when his tongue brushes against mine, both his hands drifting down to cup my ass. This could escalate quickly, and if I don’t find a sliver of strength deep within my bones in order to pull away, we’re going to end up fucking with our families in the room just above us.
I never knew sex could be as good as it is with Diego. But maybe it’s amazing because it’s him. Because we work together, we have an undeniable chemistry and a strong connection, and a deep—
His lips brand featherlight kisses on my jaw, travelling down the column of my throat. “You smell so good,” he whispers. “You look so perfect. Fuck, Alara, I just—”
We hear a door slam, the sound of footsteps passing by the basement door before retreating, then he huffs a laugh against my collarbone.
“We should probably just grab the bottles and head back upstairs,” I murmur, using the pad of my thumb to wipe traces of smeared lipstick from his lips. I’ll have to sneak to the bathroom to fix mine.
“We definitely should.” Still, he kisses me again, slowly this time. If he can hear the way my heartbeat pounds loudly, he doesn’t show it. “When can I sleep over?”
We part ways, reluctantly, and I snatch three bottles after quickly reading the labels. “Tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.” His breath fans across my shoulder blade before he places a quick peck there. “I already can’t wait to see you.”
When we’re back upstairs, he brings the bottles to the dining table while I make quick work of fixing my makeup. Mom is busy plating the appetizers when I step inside the kitchen. She does a double take at me when I start to help, a sly smile splitting her face.
“Not a word,” I whisper. In the living room, chatter booms. Dad, as usual, is making everyone laugh.
“Wasn’t going to say a thing.” She has the audacity to giggle, and I just shake my head in exasperation.
She’s been trying to extract as many details as possible about my relationship with Diego from me, but I haven’t told her much.
It had hurt to tell her it wasn’t serious, because, to me, it was never a fling. It was never casual.
Diego appears in the doorway, looking so handsome I can’t help but stare at him. He does the same with me, before clearing his throat and turning to my mom. “Can I help?”
“Nonsense,” Mom scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Go sit and enjoy. We’re bringing out the appetizers in a minute.”
“Just holler if you need some help.” Then, he grins. “Smells delicious, Donna.”
“Quite the charmer, this one,” she tells me, when he turns on his heel. His shoulders vibrate with a quiet chuckle, then he’s out of sight.
I go to wash my hands, noticing they’re slightly trembling.
God, this is going to be a long night.
“He’s handsome,” Mom points out quietly.
“Frustratingly so.”
“Caring and devoted.”
“Very much.”
“And you love him.”
The admission should strike me like a lightning bolt.
Should scare me. But I can just feel my heartbeat race again, because I’ve known it for a while.
I don’t know when exactly it happened, but I fell in love with Diego even after he made me promise we couldn’t get feelings involved.
In the midst of the games and lies, I fell so hard for him that I kept denying how intense my feelings were until now.
I take the time to dry my hands and put the towel back on its hanger.
When I turn around, Mom is watching me with rapt attention, but my gaze finds Diego across the room.
He’s standing in front of the wall where pictures are hung, studying each one of them, a glass of champagne in one hand as the other rests in the pockets of his pants.
“I think I do,” I admit, in a soft whisper, almost inaudible. “But it’s too soon.”
Gently, Mom cups my face. “Sweetie, just because you fell hard and fast doesn’t mean it’s not real. Sometimes, the fall is unexpected, but it leads to the greatest love story of your life. Tell him before he slips through your fingers.”
And as he finds my gaze, I decide that she’s right. I’ll be telling him soon. Whether he’s leaving or not.