Chapter 2
December he knows how hard I work to be perceived as exactly that.
He raises his hands in defense “—like you already are, and let me carry your bag.”
“I can do it.” I all but pout, walking behind him since he ripped the suitcase from my hands.
“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you should.
” He walks ahead of me towards his SUV and tosses my bag in his open trunk.
He offered to drive us to the airport, since it’s about an hour away and we didn’t both need to drive.
His family is already in the Dominican, but because we didn’t have a lot of time off, we’re arriving today.
It took me weeks to convince Mateo to take me with him to this wedding.
Eventually, it was his mom hovering, pushing him to accept the invitation from his girlfriend, who made it happen.
He told her he was bringing a girlfriend but nothing else, that everything was new and he didn’t want to jinx it, so nobody knows it’s actually me going.
It all makes me extremely nervous, because I’ve known his family just as long as I’ve known Mateo.
It feels weird to lie to everyone, but at least it will be just for the weekend—right? We didn’t talk that far about it.
“Hey, Teo?” I ask, looking out the window and admiring how beautiful the spring-fed lake looks with the soft colors of dawn cast over it.
“Mmhmm?” Though Mateo is a morning person, he doesn’t talk much, so him answering with sounds is very on track for him.
“We need to talk logistics about this whole thing. We literally just agreed and rolled with it, but now the day is here, and we need to get our ducks in a row.”
“I know.” He lowers the volume to the music I didn’t even notice was playing. “I figured we would tell them we’ve just been testing things out and we didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
Has he been thinking about this? He has, hasn't he? “Okay, sounds good. Your sister is gonna kill me though.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re gonna pretend in front of her that we’re together, and then what? In four days, I’m gonna be like juuuust kidding and go back to being your best friend?”
He ponders my question, scratching his thick dark beard. The man has the best beard I’ve ever seen—that the world has ever seen, actually. He even won a contest once.
The summer I turned twenty one, we went on a cruise with our friends.
Mateo, Holden, Lucas, and even Aspen, the youngest in the crew, all participated in as many contests as they could.
Liam, the oldest, was the only one who sat out and stayed back with me.
I wish he would have let himself relax a little, but instead, he continued to be his grumpy self, even if all of our friends and their beards participated in the most ridiculous contest to ever exist. Even Holden, who only has a mustache, participated.
No one could hold a candle to Mateo, though.
“What if we just tell her and Alex?” Mateo asks, grounding me back into reality. “They won’t say anything, and then she won’t get her hopes up. We both know she’s been trying forever to make this happen.”
It’s true. Livie has been saying all her life how she wishes I was legally her sister.
She has tried to pair us together for so long.
Mateo has never seen me as more than his best friend, and his friendship means the world to me.
I can’t mess it up by telling him my feelings.
Half the time, I don’t know if I’m in love with him or just completely infatuated.
He’s gorgeous, yes, but he also is the best friend I could ever ask for.
Maybe what I really love is him as a person in general and not necessarily him romantically.
Who am I fucking kidding, though? I’ve considered all the what ifs of what would happen if we were to be more than friends.
“Daze?” he asks, snapping me out of it.
“Sorry. Yes, that’s not a bad idea. I would hate to lie to them.
” Livie got married this past summer to Alex, a former football player with a bad rep with the media.
He’s the perfect match for that firecracker of Mateo’s sister.
They met last Christmas, and by the summer, they were saying I do.
I’ve never met two people more worthy of each other.
“I’m so excited they’re going to be there, even though Livie will probably be busy spreading all her Christmas cheer.”
“It’s different there. Christmas is still lively and fun, but it’s different. It’s more about gathering. I think you’ll like it,” he adds.
“Good. That, and having Livie around will help with spending a few days with the evil witch.”
He chuckles, looking my way with a smile. “Are you ever going to stop calling her that? She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Stop defending her! She strung you along for so long and then said no when you proposed? Now she’s marrying your cousin? Out of all the men in the world. I cannot believe her. Who would do that?”
“Daze,” Mateo whispers.
“Sorry, rambling.”
“You know you don’t have to apologize, but you also don’t have to fight my battles. It’s fine. I’m not losing sleep over it.”
He doesn’t add anything else, but I get the feeling he still has something to say. Aaaaand now I know so, judging by the way he pinches his nose.
“What?”
“She’s not the reason I didn’t want to come,” he replies, taking his eyes off the road for a second and looking at me.
What does he mean?
“Then what is?” His phone rings, interrupting the conversation. His boss’ name flashes across the screen on the console. “Why is he calling you so early?”
“He always does. He must have forgotten I’m off today. Hold that thought.”
Mateo clicks Accept Call on his steering wheel, and Jason’s voice inundates the vehicle. That man looooves to talk, so I know it’ll be a while. I pull my current read out of my bag, along with the couple of highlighters that match the cover so I can annotate as we drive to the airport.
“It’s beautiful here. I don’t know how your parents ever wanted to move to the States. Look at the water.”
“Now you see why I don’t go to the beaches back home.
I just wish I had time to come here more often.
” The road itself is exactly the same back home.
It was ignorant of me to assume I was going to find dirt roads everywhere.
I haven’t traveled much outside of the United States, and when Mateo and Livie’s family talked about the Dominican, I only imagined the beaches.
I knew the beaches would be beautiful, but the luxury every building showcases is definitely mouth-dropping.
The driver pulls up to the entrance of a resort and the view is even better than I could’ve imagined.
I step out of the vehicle, trying to gather my bearings and my jaw, which had apparently decided to land somewhere near the pavement.
Palm trees sway like they’d been rehearsing, in perfect synchrony; the air smells faintly of salt and new leather, and the lobby looks like it has been plucked straight from a Pinterest board.
“This way,” Mateo adds, walking to the reception desk completely unfazed. He drags my suitcase with him through the marble entrance, and I have to speed-walk to catch up. He hands the bags to the bell boy and keeps walking.
“You said this was low-key,” I whisper, trying to pull at his shirt.
“It is.” His smirk is playful, and I’m swooning again. No, not swooning, Daisy. Focus.
“This is not lowkey,” I mumble.
“Daisy Zimmerman, did you not do your research?” His eyes open wide in complete amazement.
The reality is, I don’t go anywhere unprepared.
My plan Bs have a plan B, always. But work has been extremely difficult this season, and I didn’t think much of this weekend.
I figured, how hard could it be to show up to the Caribbean for a few days?
Apparently, damn fucking hard if this is what it looks like everywhere.
“I’m wearing leggings and a hoodie, for Christ’s sake,” I whisper-shout, making him chuckle.
Well, great; there’s that stupid laugh accompanied by that stupid dimple under the edge of his beard. Just one dimple, a non-dimple, according to him. He hit his cheek when he was six, right before I met him, and tore his muscle. Now, he has the most perfect dimple, because life’s not fair.
“You look great, as usual. It’ll be fine.”
It’s finally our turn to check in, and I take the time to let my hair out from the tiny ponytail it’s been captive in all day.
I remove my hoodie swiftly and slide it into my handbag.
I perform what could be considered a small jump and stand next to him.
As small as it can be, considering I’m a thick, tall girl.
He scans something around my face. Oh, my hair. “You like? I had an existential crisis, and it needed to go.”
By existential crisis, I mean I couldn’t fit in half my bathing suits since I’ve gained weight this past year—thanks PCOS for being a bitch.
It’s not that I don’t love my new curves and rolls, but it’s annoying how much my body changes without warning.
I’m eating the same way and working out as often as I can, but with the damn hormonal imbalance and how sky high my cortisol levels are because of my job, I can’t maintain my weight.
“You cut it all off,” he whispers in a groggy tone, running his fingers through my hair.
I shrug and shake my head, letting my dark bob bounce near my shoulders. “Not all, silly, just about ten inches. Does it look bad?” It’s not that I didn’t expect a reaction from him, but more like I wasn’t expecting this, whatever it is.