Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
ERICK
I used to think the old saying about time flying when you’re having fun was sort of a lie. You know, like the one about watched pots never boiling? Because I’ve had plenty of fun in my life—epic parties, incredible travels, the whole nine yards—but the days and weeks and months still dragged.
So I think that expression needs a rebrand. Something like… time flies when you’re with the right person, when you’re living a life that fits, and when you’re not pretending to be something you’re not.
It’s not pithy, admittedly, but I can tell you for sure that it’s real because the months since I moved to Winsome have flown by.
Winter (which lasts into spring around here) was a dream sequence of packing and moving, of finding an apartment and slowly settling in, of Carlos teaching me how to fix refrigerator shelves, and the two of us curled up on my brand-new sofa.
Spring was a fast-forward blur of starting my new job and forging connections with my coworkers and neighbors, of decorating Carlos’s porch with flower pots and fresh paint, of kissing him senseless when he built me an herb garden and labeled every plant in Spanish and English.
And summer… well, summer’s been a daydream of light and warmth, of long weekend days in the hammock listening to insects buzz, and nights throwing barbecues for our friends.
At least so far.
But now I’m standing in the bathroom of the Winsome Community Center, adjusting my tie for the third time, and though it’s warm outside, that’s not why I’ve retreated here to freshen up.
“You’ve got this,” I tell my reflection.
If you’d told past-Erick that attending a fifteen-year-old girl’s birthday party could stress me out, I don’t think I’d have believed you. But there are a lot of things about my life in Winsome that I can’t believe.
The bathroom door swings open, and the number one most unbelievable thing leans against the doorframe, taking in my reflection in the mirror.
“Found you,” my boyfriend teases as he stalks toward me.
Carlos looks freaking devastating in his charcoal-gray suit, but then he’s also devastating in his broken-in jeans and shit-kicking boots, or in nothing at all.
“You nervous?”
“No,” I say, though we both know I mean yes. “It’s just… I’m your first boyfriend, and this is my first time meeting your extended family. It’s kind of a big deal. And you have a lot of tias who flew into town for this.” I attack my tie again. “I want them to like me.”
“Baby, it’s their first time meeting you. You’re practically a Morales now—and you know it’s not just me saying that. Mamá told you too. She adores you, and my tias are going to love you.”
He wraps his arms around me from behind and tweaks my tie, making it look ten times better than what my nervous fingers had accomplished.
“Think about everything you’ve done this year—quitting your job, becoming a teacher, moving to Winsome, hooking up with a first-time-bi dude, introducing your lumberjack boyfriend to your parents.
After all that, meeting a couple of nice Guatemalan ladies is no big. ”
I have to laugh because… he’s right that it’s been a hell of a year.
The best year.
I’m so freaking grateful for my life in Winsome, for my cute little apartment not far from the school, for the friends who voluntold me to join the local book club.
I adore my job, which now includes running a nature summer camp for preschoolers.
I’m on better terms with my family, who’ve accepted that I’m happy, even if they’re still mystified by my choices. And I love my lumberjack boyfriend…
Even if I’ve never actually told him that in so many words.
“You are the handsomest man at this party,” Carlos whispers.
“Ha. Flatterer.” I relax back against him, shutting my eyes for a moment and letting his warm strength surround me. “There’s no way I’m handsomer than Alejandro.”
One of Carlos’s sixteen cousins is an honest-to-god romance novel cover model—a fact I’d learned no thanks to Carlos.
Last March, I’d helped Ames cater one of Winsome’s romance-novel book club meetings, and I’d learned that one of the members also runs an Alejandro Morales fan club.
Turns out she has kind of a thing for Carlos’s cousin.
And by thing, I mean she gave me a signed picture of Alejandro along with my tip.
“That’s gonna be priceless one day, Erick,” Maureen Derman had told me seriously. “Keep it safe.”
Needless to say, my boyfriend had a lot to say when he spotted a signed photo on my kitchen counter showing his cousin in a Speedo. Just remembering his reaction makes me smile.
Yes, I kind of love the jealousy thing.
Don’t judge.
“Hey,” Carlos says, turning me around to give me a mock-scowl, which he ruins by leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose. “No smiling when you’re thinking about Alejandro, boyfriend. Not when you and I just got together.”
“Just?” I chuckle and thread my hands into the back of his hair. “I don’t know how to break this to you, babe, but it’s been months now. Longer, if you count the time I spent pining for you from New York. There’s no just about it.”
“And yet according to the Winsome gossip network, it’s been way less,” he reminds me with a lifted eyebrow that says he still hasn’t forgotten the weeks I spent “fake dating” Ames.
“Your mother thought the whole thing was hilarious,” I remind him, running a hand over his freshly shaved jaw. “She said she loved keeping a secret from Winsome. Made her feel very James Bond.”
“Yeah, well, Mamá also suggested I propose to you tonight to add some drama to Esme’s quinceanera, so I don’t know if Teresa Morales is the best judge of what’s amusing.”
My eyes go wide. “Propose?”
He laughs out loud. “Relax. I told her this is one area where you and I will not be impulsive. Although…” He pulls me tighter against him, threading his fingers together behind my back.
“Fair warning, it’ll be coming eventually.
” His voice goes soft. “I want years with you, baby. Decades. Wanna build a family with you.”
“Same.” My heart does a little flip at the sincerity in his eyes. I don’t know how the man can melt me with a single look. “Speaking of impulsive shit, I may have done one tiny impulsive thing this morning that I neglected to tell you about.”
A slow smile spreads over his face. “Yeah?”
“When I was at the library, I volunteered to organize a Spanish-English story time on Saturday mornings. I know a bunch of folks who’ll help read the stories, since my Spanish is still, um… no bueno. But I’m going to coordinate the whole thing and handle crafts and snacks.”
Carlos’s grin could power the entire community center. “You’re going to be amazing at that.”
“You think?” I blow out a breath because while my faith in myself might sometimes waver, Carlos’s faith in me never does, and sometimes his confidence is all I need to settle me. “The librarian mentioned she wished they had more diverse programming, and… I came up with the idea on the spot.”
“I love your impulsive decisions. You know I do. And I’m gonna show you exactly how much when we get home,” he says in a growly voice that sends a blast of heat through me.
“I was thinking we could do the thing we did to commemorate your last ‘impulsive’ decision—when you signed that lead teacher contract for next year.” His voice lowers even more.
“Or the thing we did when you and Ames officially broke up. Your choice.”
I manage a laugh, but my cock pulses beneath my suit pants, and my throat goes dry instantly.
One of those impromptu celebrations had involved Carlos eating me out in the shower until I was a sloppy, dripping mess who could barely stand, then holding me in his arms and pounding my ass until I saw stars.
The other had involved him throwing himself face-down in my bed and telling me to “give him the business,” which meant his first time bottoming had started with both of us laughing ourselves silly… and ended with us both fucked-out and wrapped around each other.
There are no bad choices here.
In fact, I can’t think of a single time I’ve been with Carlos that hasn’t been incredible. It’s like my list of top ten sexual encounters just keeps getting rewritten, because the longer we’re together, the better we know each other, the more comfortable we are together, and the hotter the sex is.
That’s a lesson I wish I could go back in time and tell the Erick that used to think an endless array of anonymous hookups was peak sexual satisfaction.
Except maybe I don’t wish that. Because anything I did differently back then might mean I wouldn’t be here right now, with this man, in this town, building this life… and I can’t imagine anything better.
“Speaking of Ames,” I say, trying to turn the conversation before my pants situation gets any… ahem, harder to conceal. “He said he’s going to stop by tonight.”
Carlos grunts. “I’ll believe that when I see it. It’s like that fucker fake broke up with his fake boyfriend and decided we can’t all hang out anymore.”
I bite my lip and try hard not to laugh at how disappointed he sounds.
For all that Carlos likes to pretend that my fake-dating situation with Ames was the biggest and worst imposition ever, I don’t think either of us regrets it.
Ames, Carlos, and I spent so much time together—sometimes at town events, where I’d stand between the two men, and Carlos would growl under his breath anytime Ames’s arm brushed mine, and sometimes just chilling in the kitchen at Watchfire—that we all became friends.
I was glad we could help Ames… well, for a certain definition of help. And now that Ames is in a better place, I know Carlos is as happy about it as I am. Ames deserves good things.
The fake dating also gave Carlos time to come out to his friends and for everyone to get to know me. It gave us time to solidify our relationship privately, while all the well-meaning Winsome gossips were distracted.
All in all, a win.