Chapter 32
Vanessa
I’m sad to say Jason didn’t call last night. Which is going to make seeing him today even more awkward than usual.
Unfortunately, Mami and Papi are conspiring against me.
Not intentionally, but still. In a clever two-for-one, they’re also staging the store for professional photographs their real estate agent can use to entice potential buyers.
Given that they asked me to “look nice,” I’ll likely be in Jason’s orbit for a photograph or two.
No, I don’t generally dress like a sea hag, so I should be insulted by their request, but a Latine child learns early on to fight only the major battles and take the metaphorical Vivaporú for everything else.
When I arrive at the store, the area between Second and Third Avenues is completely closed to traffic and people are milling around the various stands.
Salsa music pumps from the speakers, and kids run through the crowd with not a care in the world.
Vendors are shouting at their customers as they sell everything from zeppoli to barbecued ribs to alcapurrias.
Near the main stage, a group of young dancers, all dressed in white flowy skirts, prepare to dance bomba, a traditional Puerto Rican dance with roots in the island’s African ancestry.
The sun is shining, the aroma of sweet peppers and Italian sausage is blanketing the street, and bongos and trumpets are providing a steady beat that people are swinging their hips to.
Taking in this sensory experience, I pull in a deep breath of contentment and blow it out slowly.
This place has rhythm and soul, a cultural landscape all its own, a hard-fought vibrancy that isn’t diminished by its rough edges.
It’s hard to believe there was ever a time when I was embarrassed to be from here. No more.
Lisa opens La Flor’s door and pulls me inside. “Why are you standing outside like you’re about to break into song in a Lin-Manuel Miranda musical?”
“Whatever, Lili,” I say with a laugh. “I was just admiring the neighborhood.”
She steps close, her face inches from mine. “Well, I just wanted to give you a heads-up that he’s here,” she whispers. “And he’s been here for a while. He and the guys from his work crew are going to play dominoes with Papi outside. They just went to the back to get the tables.”
“Got it,” I say, acting calm even though my heart feels like it’s pumping in my throat.
“You okay?”
My instinct is to tell her I’m fine, but I’m trying not to be that person anymore. The woman who gives off this overly confident facade to mask her insecurities. I glance at her through pained eyes. “I’m a wreck, Lili. I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. It’s a street festival. You’re with family. Enjoy yourself. And if he happens to start a conversation, do that thing with your mouth you do so well.”
“Talk?”
“Yes, that,” she says, her mouth twitching. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
I let out an embarrassing snort. I’m fine. We’re fine. This is all fine.
“You look hot, by the way,” she says, eyeing me from head to toe before her gaze lands on my shoulders. “Your arms are insanely toned too. All that masturbating is doing wonders for your physique.”
“You’re an ass,” I say, pushing her away.
“But you love me,” she singsongs.
“I do,” I say, sobering. “I really, really do.”
“No, we’re not doing this right now.” She grabs my hand and pulls me out the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To find the piragua man.”
Minutes later, we return with cherry piraguas in their useless white paper cones.
“I’m going to get this all over me,” I say, groaning.
“So?” Lisa says. “That’s the point.”
I dodge some of the dripping syrup from the shaved ice treat as it hits the ground and bump into a hard body.
Without even looking, I can tell it’s Jason.
Because I can smell him. That perfect blend of cognac and cedarwood transports me to those moments I spent between his sheets.
I wish I’d had enough time with him to let his scent soak into my skin. I look up and swallow. “Sorry.”
He smiles. “No problem. Bumping into you is always a good thing.”
“Hey, Jason,” Lisa chirps, wildly waving a hand in front of him. “Good to see you too.”
“Hey, Lisa,” he says, his gaze not straying from mine the whole time. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” I say, nervously adjusting the fabric of my maxi dress. I gesture toward La Flor. “It’s a new place. I can’t thank you enough for helping them out.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Still?”
“Still,” he says, nodding firmly.
It feels like we’re talking about more than his willingness to help renovate the store, but I’m too scared to examine what we’re not saying. Too afraid to hope for what I desperately want.
Mami pokes her head out from inside the store. “Lisa, time for your shift.”
“And what are you going to be doing?” Lisa asks Mami.
“Playing dominoes with your father, of course,” she replies as she pulls on the apron strings around her waist. Lisa rolls her eyes and slips inside.
I turn back to Jason, who’s still watching me with an intensity that warms my skin and makes me lightheaded. It’s going to be a scorcher today; that must be why I’m at risk of overheating.
“Your parents convinced me to play dominoes. Are they any good?”
“Very. And they take it seriously.”
“So I should let them win?”
“There’s no letting involved. They’re going to crush you.”
He laughs. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, Jason,” my father calls out as he sets up the dominoes. “Let’s go, mijo.”
“I need to do this,” he says, pointing behind him. “But I’d like to talk to you later. Would that be cool with you?”
“Definitely,” I say, grinning so hard.
“All right,” he says. Then he leans over and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
Oh. That’s a good sign, right? Yes, yes, I think it is.
I watch him join the game, and I’m at a loss for what to do. Go inside? Walk the festival a bit? Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jason lean over and speak to my father. After a brief exchange, Jason calls my name.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Come join me.”
“Join you where?”
“Right here,” he says, patting his lap.
“In front of my parents?” I ask, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “Our current relationship status doesn’t qualify for such public displays of affection.”
He gives me a lopsided grin and pulls a milk crate from behind his chair. “Here, then.”
I reluctantly join them.
“You can help me,” he says, speaking to me quietly. “Sounds like I’ll need it.”
I watch the game for a moment and then “Just Can’t Get Enough” by the Black Eyed Peas begins playing through the speakers. “This used to be my song in high school. Wore it out.”
“I know. Lisa told me.”
“She did?” I ask, tilting my head.
“She did.”
Before I can press him on why she shared this tidbit about me, a guy in a tank top and basketball shorts hands me a rose.
“What is happening?” I ask, laughing.
Then another guy similarly dressed in casual clothes hands me two more roses. Seconds later, they’re breakdancing on the sidewalk in front of the store, a large piece of cardboard serving as their makeshift stage.
“You didn’t,” I tell Jason.
“I did,” he says, holding back a smile.
Soon, I’m receiving roses from a dozen strangers, all of whom are dressed like B-boys in an old breakdancing movie, and then they’re dancing together while the neighborhood stares at the woman—me—with two dozen roses in her hands.
“Vanessa,” my mother says, her eyes flickering with affection. “Sit in the man’s lap, ?por Dios!”
From the store’s door, Lisa gives me a thumbs-up.
I scramble up from my spot on the crate and clumsily climb onto Jason’s lap. He wraps his arms around my waist to steady me, and I snuggle into him.
“I can’t believe you did this.”
“Just wanted you to know I can be just as ridiculous as you when the situation calls for it.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“Do you remember the words to the song?” he asks.
“By heart.”
“There’s a part about forming a team.”
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly. “Something about being your queen.”
“What do you say?”
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“Definitely.”
As I think about the parallels between this moment and the song’s lyrics, I caress his jaw and bring my face within a hairsbreadth of his. “I can’t imagine being anything less, so the answer is yes.”
But we don’t kiss. Because I’m definitely not doing that in front of my parents. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. This new beginning is uniquely ours, and we have all the time in the world to celebrate it. We’ll get to the good stuff later.
That afternoon, we’re in each other’s arms as soon as Jason kicks the door to my apartment closed.
In a frantic dash to remove our clothing, we peel garments out of the way without regard to which one of us is actually wearing them.
Our mouths are fused together, tongues sliding and swirling in a heated dance that’s showing no signs of slowing.
Not even when we’re completely naked, our clothes carelessly discarded on the floor.
Groaning, Jason lifts me, and I scramble for purchase, wrapping my legs around his waist and squirming against his hard length pressed between us. His big hands squeeze my ass as he strides down the hall, and then he gently deposits me in the middle of my bed.
I part my legs slightly, teasing him.
His eyes blaze with lust, his pupils flaring as he gives my entire body a once-over and then returns to my face. “Show me.”
I don’t bother to ask what he means. I know. So I spread my thighs and hold myself open.
“Fuck,” he chokes out. “You’re soaked.”
“No preparation necessary.”
He takes a deep breath and strokes himself twice. “For either of us.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
“I’m coming.”
“I should hope so.”
His lips curve into a smile as he climbs onto the bed, and then he lowers himself over me, pressing me into the mattress so we’re skin to skin.
“Jason.”
“Vanessa.”
“Jason.”
“This feels right. Tell me you feel the same.”
“I do. God, you know I do.”
“No more secrets?”
“None.”
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and never thought I’d have. Te adoro.”
“I adore you too.”
He nuzzles my jaw, then nips at the corner of my lip. “Take me in your hands and rub yourself. Get it nice and wet.”
I moan as I reach for him, and then I’m sliding his tip over my pussy.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. “What do you want? Slow? Fast? I aim to please.”
“Fast. Hard and fast.”
He pushes inside me in one swift thrust.
“Yes,” I cry out.
“Vanessa,” he groans as he shudders. “I’m so fucking gone for you.”
“I like the sound of that. And same, same, same.”
He balances on his elbows and brushes away the curls that are plastered against my face. “Oh yeah?”
“Without a doubt. Now please move.”
He chuckles, his stomach muscles stretching against the softness of my belly, and then he drives into me, filling me to the hilt. With a soft “Jesus,” he rises off the bed. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
I slide under the cage of his arms and shoulders and draw him close, enveloping him between my thighs.
He licks his lips once, twice, and then plunges, pounding me relentlessly. Over and over. Again and again. “Like this?”
“Exactly like this,” I say with a whimper.
We rock into each other for minutes, my soft cries and his hard grunts the only sounds in the room.
Every scrape of his skin against mine sends shivers through me, until an overwhelming surge of heat washes over my body.
The telltale tingle hits my spine before I can tell him I’m close.
But it doesn’t matter, because soon, we’re shouting loud enough to undoubtedly annoy the neighbors, shaking uncontrollably as we reach the peak together.
He plants delicate kisses on my chin, my forehead, my cheeks. I work to control my breathing, my chest tight, although the rest of me is limber. We snuggle into each other, his body partly draped over mine as I lie on my back.
“This is the real deal, V. You’re it for me.”
“Thank goodness,” I say, threading my fingers through his hair. “Because you’re it for me too.”
“When did you know?”
I’m hesitant to admit this, but I’m going to anyway. Because that’s the thing about the truth: It may be scary sometimes, but it’s always freeing. “The day we worked on the reno in Queens.”
He widens his eyes, his pupils flaring. “When we kissed?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Before that. When you talked about Suenos and said it refilled your well. I fell a little in love with you right then. I just didn’t know what I was feeling yet.”
Affection glows in his eyes as he sinks his fingers into my curls and pulls me in for a ravenous kiss.
When our lips drift apart, I tell myself I shouldn’t ask a question I don’t want the answer to. I might be it for him, but that doesn’t mean he’s falling for me yet. And I can live with that. As long as we get there eventually.
“Do you hear that?” he says, cupping his ear.
“What?”
“The sound of your brain working overtime.”
“Ugh,” I say, playfully shoving him off me. “You’re the worst.”
He scrambles on top of me and threads our hands together over my head.
It’s a lovely view, seeing Jason’s broad chest inches from my lips, his expression soft as he gazes into my eyes.
“It took me a while to realize what was happening, but I knew I’d fallen a little in love with you when you sat on that milk crate in your parents’ store and just talked to me.
I couldn’t imagine having that conversation with anyone else, and I yearned to be the person you’d share all your secrets with. ”
“You weren’t ready, though,” I say.
“Yeah, I wasn’t ready.”
“And that’s okay,” I say, nuzzling his jaw. “We’re exactly where we need to be: in each other’s arms and looking forward to the future.”
“Glad you agree.”
“Savor this moment. It won’t happen often.”
He grins, his eyes flickering with amusement, then his expression turns serious. “Tell me something real.”
This one’s easy: “I can’t imagine living without you.”
He beams at me. Fucking beams at me. And I’m a goner just like that.
“Same, Vanessa. Same,” he says softly.
So there you have it: the whole sordid mess complete with a happy ending. Ours isn’t a typical love story, and I consider that a good thing. The best ones never are.