Chapter 34 #2
“But I ruined it with the Betton shit. I felt lost … and I knew I had to find a way back to being your friend, and I didn’t know how.
Didn’t realize what I was up against.” He levels a pointed look at me, and I huff out another laugh, even as a stray tear betrays me.
“Truth is, despite your anger and your vengefulness, you made me want to be better. You made me want to work harder, to fight for what I wanted.” His voice is hoarse. “And in the end, it was you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a beat, overwhelmed by emotions and the need to touch him.
“When the accident happened, the thought of a world without you was unfathomable. So having your spirit around made it okay, made me feel like I had my chance to tell you how I felt, like I’ve wanted to tell you every day since the first day, especially on the days I knew you hated me most and thought I returned the favor.
” Rafael chuckles like he’s barely holding himself together.
“I didn’t understand any of it until we talked to Abuela and Helene and Doug.
” He shakes his head. “You didn’t have unfinished business, E.
” He lifts his gaze to mine, eyes full of something so fierce and devastating it makes my knees buckle.
“You were mine,” he says.
I feel myself swaying.
“Mamma Mia,” I breathe shakily.
“Mamma Mia,” he echoes. “You don’t have to process it all at once, E. I’ll repeat it again for you tomorrow … and the day after. For as long as you need.” He leans in, his forehead pressing against mine. “If you’ll let me.”
My pulse riots. “I just—I can’t believe—”
Rafael’s mouth captures mine, cutting off the rest. Thoughts. Words. Air.
I lean into him, into his lips. It’s not urgent, not desperate. It’s steady and certain, like he’s meant to be kissing me. Like he’s waited to. And all the yearning—the last few weeks, maybe years of it—feed the moment.
His full, warm lips press into mine with a tenderness that makes something deep in me sigh in relief.
His hands cup my face, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones.
I flatten my hands against his flat, hard chest and press into him, curling my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, needing more of him, of this.
I tug him closer still, and he deepens the kiss. His breath is minty, with a hint of tequila. I don’t think I can have enough of him. Yet I want more.
I want him.
I shift, arching into him with a soft moan. Rafael groans. And the heat that’s been simmering between us since day one ignites, a warm pool of lava and desire, churning and burning and making me want to tear off his clothes. I tug him even closer.
Rafael chuckles against my mouth, guiding me back until the desk edge digs into my thighs and his body presses in. I drag my hands over all the parts of him I’ve wanted to touch for so long. His kisses move over all the parts of me that have needed his touch for so long.
Rafael braces his hands on either side of my hips, caging me in as he leans into me.
I tilt my head, giving his lips access to my neck.
His breath ghosts over my skin, coaxing a shiver.
Slowly, torturously, he trails lower … down the column of my neck, pressing soft kisses in a path of slow, seductive sabotage …
I press my thighs together, resisting the urge to wrap them around him, to pull him to me and live out fantasies I’ve only dared imagine. I thread my fingers into his hair—soft and thick—and he exhales like my touch alone is undoing him.
“Dios,” he mutters into my skin, his voice raspy, reverent. “You taste like heaven.”
“Must be my close call with it,” I breathe, earning a chuckle that rumbles through both of us.
His hand drags down my thigh, gathering the material of my dress, fingers trailing fire over bare skin. The sensation sears itself into my flesh, my bones, my DNA.
The deep ache coiled low in my core threatens to overcome me. A shaky breath shudders out of me as my legs part slightly, instinct and desire overriding logic, reaching for—
A knock on the door snaps us out of the moment.
We still. Rafael’s lips hover against my neck, my fingers tangled in his hair, his hands gripping my thighs.
He scowls at the door.
“Who is it?” His voice is a raspy bark.
“Can you open the door?” a woman asks.
Rafael groans. “What is it, Gracie?”
“Mama wants to leave, and she’d like to say bye. Also, there’s like a million people out there looking for you, so whatever you’re doing right now better be more important than your launch party.”
Rafael drops his head with a shake, his hair disheveled and his shirt untucked. His hand doesn’t so much as twitch against my thigh. In fact, he caresses the skin there with the pad of his thumb, his eyes glazed with desire as he turns his head toward the door. “I’ll be right there.”
“Two minutes!” she commands before her footsteps retreat.
Sighing, he leans his head against mine and groans again. “Mierda.”
“Mierda,” I echo, breathless.
For a second, we just exist in the wreckage of what almost was. I’m buzzing—frustrated, flustered, and way too aware of every inch of space (or lack thereof) between us. Because almost isn’t enough. Not anymore.
Rafael pulls away, reluctant, disheveled. He watches me as he tucks the shirt into his pants and attempts to fix his hair. It refuses to stay in place. “Good?”
I run my gaze over his (still unfairly attractive) form and crinkle my nose. “I liked the sweatpants better.”
He smirks, thumb brushing my lower lip like he’s memorizing the feel of me. “I need ten minutes.” Everywhere we touch, my skin burns. “If you want to stay.”
“I … should probably go. You have your party, and I shouldn’t have come and—”
Rafael drops his hand to my waist and tugs me to him. “I wouldn’t have cared if you were the only one who showed up. In fact, I hate it didn’t go that way.”
I flatten my hands against his chest, smoothing down his now-rumpled shirt.
“Too bad for you, everyone loves you.”
“Is that so?”
I push up to my feet and meet him at eye level. “More than can possibly be healthy.” I feel his smile as I press my lips to his, leaning into him, breathing him in and committing his scent to memory.
Another knock rattles the door, and Rafael curses.
I nudge him away. “Go.”
“I’m sorry.” He opens the door, blocking his older sister from view. Her eyes snag on me, widening with shock, before the door shuts.
Rafael’s gone—and it takes all of my willpower not to follow.