Chapter 3
Ridiculously, Hopelessly Stupid
DAMOCLES BY SLEEP TOKEN
Mateo
It’s the way she froze when the desk clerk called us Mr. and Mrs. Sanz.
The way her lips parted like she was about to protest, but I beat her to it.
Or maybe we both did, I don’t know. The world narrowed to just her—especially her freshly-cut hair.
Damn, she looks good with it. But when doesn't Daisy look good?
I have to embrace my calm facade when I’m near her, because if not, she’ll see how I truly feel about her. And it’s stupid—ridiculously, hopelessly stupid—that a woman I’ve known most of my life can still make my stomach tighten just by saying my name. But there it is.
When my mom walked up? That was chaos.
When I wrapped my arm around Daisy’s back? That was instinct.
When I kissed the top of her head and called her baby?
That was…dangerous, especially how easy it came out, how easy it was to pretend she was mine.
I’ve wanted this for so long. It’s never a good time, though, not when a friendship like ours is at risk.
In the meantime, I just keep bouncing the ‘what ifs’ in my head, replaying the never-ending scenarios of never being happy if I’m not with her.
Now, here we are, a few hours later, at the pool, waiting for everyone.
They said three o’clock, but I should have known better.
I should've known that meant four for them. If there’s one thing I didn’t pick up from my family, it’s the impunctuality.
Being late drives me absolutely wild. Nobody’s here—at least nobody I recognize—but that’s okay.
I’m taking the time to relax. No phone, no work, for the first time in months.
I’m thankful for the forced time away and for my Ray Bans.
I’m thankful I can hide the fact that my eyes won’t stop tracking Daisy.
She’s reading a book she said was sad, but she needed to finish it.
Something about World War II. I’m watching the sunlight hit the curve of her shoulder, relishing in the way it makes her hair look almost blue.
Daisy has natural brown hair, but she dyes it black, has for as long as I can remember.
Her little sister, Bee, does the same but with blonde.
She’s been a blonde since she could afford to pay for the hairstylist to do it.
Daisy has a swimsuit underneath the dress she’s wearing, sunglasses framing her face.
I’m lost in thought about seeing her in it.
It wouldn’t be the first time, since we go swimming often, but I always like seeing her body, even when she hasn’t loved it herself.
I always tried to remind her how powerful and beautiful her body is, even if it has changed through the years.
We’re supposed to—change, that is. And there’s beauty in it.
There’s beauty in not looking eighteen anymore, in getting creases by your eyes from smiling so much.
There’s beauty in developing the sexiest and most alluring curves I’ve ever seen.
I can’t stop thinking about the bed situation, and not in the ‘best friends at a sleepover’ way. No, in the way I wish I’d get to touch her without holding back. I’d get to press my chest to her back and bury my face in her hair until I fell asleep breathing her in.
And yeah, that thought has to be shoved deep, deep down because she doesn’t know. She can’t.
I can’t wreck this. I can’t break our friendship over my feelings when I know she doesn’t reciprocate them.
She gets so jittery when I hold her gaze or when my eyes find her in a crowded room.
She always smiles or pushes me out of the way, clearly indicating even that’s too much.
And that’s just a gaze, not even a kiss.
A kiss. We really need to talk about the rules of our arrangement.
“You look like you’re plotting something,” she says, bringing me back to reality.
I smirk. “Maybe I am.”
And it’s true—I’m plotting how to make it through the rest of this trip while letting every single person here see exactly how badly I want her but not letting her believe it’s true. At the end of the day, we have to go back to our lives and pretend like nothing happened.
My comment earns me that skeptical little squint she does when she’s deciding whether to press me for details.
She doesn’t press. Instead, she pushes herself out of the chair and takes off her dress in one swoop. “I’m tired of waiting for your family. I’m getting in the pool. Wanna come?”
I shake my head. “I’ll wait here. You go ahead.”
“Suit yourself.” She drops her dress over the book she left on the table and walks toward the water. “Make sure my book doesn’t get wet, okay?”
The girl is always reading. I thought she may want to use her kindle on this trip, but no, she said paperbacks are for vacation.
She disappears into the water for what feels like an eternity, but eventually, she climbs back out.
There’s water cascading down her beautiful, long, thick legs, and I have to lean back in my chair like I’m trying to avoid the splash from some kids playing when in reality, I’m trying to hide the way my gaze lingers and my dick twitches.
She grabs her towel and drapes it over her shoulders, sits, and immediately starts wringing water from her hair.
I shouldn’t be staring at her fingers twisting through the dark strands and wishing they were mine instead.
I shouldn’t be thinking about how I could be the one doing that, slow and lazy, just to see if she’d shiver, how I wish I could rake my fingers through her hair and tug lightly at the bottom to give me better access to her mouth.
I clear my throat and glance toward the bar. “You want something to drink?”
“Lemonade,” she says, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes close against the sun, a smile tugging at her mouth, like she’s finally relaxed.
I’m halfway to the bar when I see them—my mom, my sister, a few cousins…and Jaime, spilling into the pool area with that big, loud, Sanz energy that can take over any space.
Shit.
When I turn back, Daisy’s already seen them.
She’s sitting up, towel clutched around her shoulders as she watches them approach.
I can tell she’s bracing herself. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to, that she can just be herself and I’ll handle the rest. I want to remind her how much my family already loves her, that this is just a little bit different.
I slip back into the role—her boyfriend for the weekend—and slide a lemonade into her hand just as my mom reaches us.
“There you are,” Mom says, giving that tight smile she gets when she’s still figuring something out. Her gaze flits between us like she’s testing the story we fed her earlier. “We saved you a spot near the cabana.”
“Thanks, but we’re good here,” I say easily, setting my drink down and resting a hand on the back of Daisy’s chair.
I don’t have to touch her, but I do. My fingers find her shoulder, warm from the sun, and I let them rest there.
Just enough to make it look natural. Just enough to feel her under my hand.
Judging by the goosebumps spreading over her back, she must be cold, so I grab my towel and drape it over her too.
My sister Livie joins in, teasing us. “You two look cozy. Guess it’s true what Mom said.”
“What’s that?” Daisy asks, smiling, though it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
“That you’re finally together,” Livie says with a wink.
I laugh, leaning down toward Daisy so my lips are close enough for only her to hear. “We need to talk to her later.”
She tilts her head toward me, just slightly. I catch the faintest whiff of sunscreen and chlorine, and for a second, I forget to breathe. She’s breathtaking.
“What?” I ask when I miss whatever she was trying to say.
“I said we do, but for now, let’s keep this story straight.” Her tone is hushed, her words just for me.
It’s not the story I’m worried about. It’s the fact that pretending feels way too much like the thing I’ve wanted for years.
And with my whole family watching, I have to keep my hand exactly where it is when all I want to do is pull her closer and never let go.
Livie doesn’t even give us a chance to answer before she’s pulling two chairs over, practically pinning us in with her enthusiasm.
“Come on, join the party,” Daisy says, waving at Alex, Livie’s husband, to join us too.
Livie plops onto the edge of Daisy’s chair, forcing her to scoot closer to me.
So close, her bare knee brushes mine. So close, I can feel the cool dampness of her skin against my leg.
I shift automatically, draping my whole arm along the back of her chair.
It’s what a boyfriend would do, but really, it’s just so I can keep touching her.
“So,” Livie says, pointing between us, “who made the first move? You or him?”
“I’m dying to know,” Jaime, my cousin, says. Jaime and I aren’t really close. We grew up semi-close, but his family spent half the time traveling and living in between places, which made it harder to form a bond.
So imagine my surprise when he updated his status on socials to show he was in a relationship with my ex. Did he even know I dated Violeta? No, he didn’t. A small part of me always wondered why I was wasting my time with her instead of chasing after who I truly wanted.
Daisy laughs, awkward but adorable. “Depends on what you consider a first move.”
“Her,” I say.
At the same time, she says, “Definitely him.” Damn it, we need to get on the same page.
Everyone laughs like it’s the cutest thing in the world, and Daisy hides behind her lemonade glass, sipping to avoid the follow-up questions. I don’t blame her.
I lean in just enough so only she can hear again. “We’re supposed to get our stories straight, remember?”
She side-eyes me over the rim of her glass. “Okay, okay, sorry. Sorry. I’ll hush now.”
My chest tightens. I don’t want her to be quiet. No, I want to be on the same page as her while simultaneously trying to gauge if this is something she can do past this weekend.
“Mateo, help me with this umbrella,” my uncle calls from behind us.
I start to move, but Daisy’s hand lightly grips my thigh to stop me. “Stay,” she says, her voice laced with concerned. My entire body goes still under her touch, just like it always does. I look at her with questioning eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispers.
I lean in closer, holding her neck with one hand and brushing her hair out of the way with the other.
“Play pretend. Just keep notes in your beautiful brain so you can share with me later.” I kiss her forehead and walk to the other table to help my uncle.
By the time I wrestle the umbrella into place, more of my family members have gathered. Some are further away in the cabana where my mom is, others spread around the pool area.
The resort’s pool deck is all gleaming white stone and low, airy cabanas with straw roofs.
I look over to see Daisy tense. Her body language speaks volumes.
Her gaze darts toward the cool blue sweep of the pool, the rows of sun loungers, then back to someone walking her way.
Her shoulders are tense, her eyes narrowed, and she uses her drink as a shield.
Then, I see why.
“Well isn’t this cozy.” Violeta’s tone is all sugared venom and razor edges.
“Violeta,” I say, walking back toward Daisy to sit.
Maybe my presence will keep Violeta from saying something hurtful.
She looks exactly the same as the last time I saw her, and somehow, not at the same time.
Her hair is longer than I remember, her sunglasses oversized, her smile as calculated as always.
Her cheeks are plumper, and she has a different shine to her.
She’s happy. I’m glad she finally found what she was looking for.
Beside her, Jaime looks like he’s trying to play peacemaker, but the smug tilt of his lips says he’s enjoying this too much.
“Hi, Violeta,” Daisy says evenly, forcing my jaw to unclench.
Violeta is not Daisy’s favorite person; she always had issues with Daisy for some reason.
It got so overwhelmingly bad, I refused to let her talk about Daisy at all.
It’s one of the reasons why I knew it wouldn’t work between us, even if I didn’t have my own motives hiding in plain sight.
Her gaze flicks from me to Daisy, pausing deliberately on where my arm rests along the back of her chair. She takes in the towels, the easy way Daisy’s bare knee still brushes my leg, and she smiles wider, like she’s just found the punchline to a joke no one else is in on.
“So I was right,” she says, voice honeyed, like the words are a compliment instead of a grenade.
Daisy straightens slightly, but her expression stays calm. “About what?” she asks, offering a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You and Mateo ending up together,” Violeta continues, eyes sliding back to me. “I could tell there was more going on…” She lets the sentence trail off.
I’m already opening my mouth to shut her down when Daisy speaks first.
“Well,” Daisy says lightly, “I don’t know what you think you knew, but Mateo and I didn’t start dating until recently.
Not that it’s any of your business, though, considering you two are not a thing and haven’t been for a while.
You’re getting married the day after tomorrow, right? So why does it bother you?”
It’s not subtle at all, but just by listening to Daisy, with her sure tone and her eyes holding Violeta’s, you could miss how she truly feels. There’s steel under her voice. She’s lightly pinching my thigh. She hates this—she just won’t let her say some bullshit.
Violeta’s eyes narrow just a fraction, but she recovers quickly. “Of course,” she says. “We’re happy you’re here.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, making sure Violeta sees exactly how close I am to Daisy. “We’re happy to be here too. Congratulations to both of you.”
Jaime coughs into his drink, badly hiding a laugh. Livie, who’s been half-watching from her spot, suddenly bounces to her feet.
“Okay,” she says brightly, clapping her hands once. “I think Daisy and I are overdue for some sister-in-law bonding time.”
Daisy blinks. “Sister-in-law?”
Livie grins, grabbing Daisy’s hand and tugging her up before she can protest. “Future sister-in-law, same thing. Come on. I’m stealing you.”
“Have fun,” I call after them, ignoring the way Violeta’s smirk sharpens. I sit back in my chair and ignore the rest of them for the time being.