Chapter 7 I Really Like Her
“Fucking fantastic, Paul; why don’t you go ahead and break the damn door while you’re at it, huh?” I said to one of my guys, and sniffed against the dryness in my nose.
“Sorry, boss,” he mumbled before carefully placing the box he was holding, at the entrance.
It was freezing outside, and I was helping Paul and Greg haul the tile boxes, marble counter-tops, and wood plies from the mover’s truck to the house.
When Mr. Ribeiro had opened the door for me an hour or so ago, he’d only given me a quick nod before going about his business. I’d seen him go up to Carina’s room with a mug and a note in hand, and then watched him leave for the shop a few minutes later with another curt nod in my direction.
It was awkward, almost painfully.
And I don’t know why, but it made me angrier at myself. Probably because I’d genuinely hurt the man by almost making out with his granddaughter in his house.
I was an A-grade tool, pun definitely intended.
I’d had half a mind to ask my brother to go in early instead of me, but I knew he’d throw the “You’re the one who approaches clients, not me” bullshit at me, so I’d decided to face the music myself.
I would have to anyway, one way or another.
It’s not like I could avoid Mr. Ribeiro for weeks on end.
Shit didn’t work like that in real life, did it?
“Jesus, Greg, what the fuck?!” I all but exploded when he almost dropped the marble-tops he was carrying. “We need these in the kitchen, not on the damn pavement!”
He opened and closed his mouth, and then apologized before slowly climbing up the stairs.
Paul and Greg are twin brothers, aka Ed Sheeran doppelg?ngers, and have been working for Taron and I ever since we took over Reyes Constructions.
They’re outstanding at what they do, don’t get me wrong.
But sometimes, even accomplished people held the power of getting on my nerves, especially when I was in a very particular kind of mood.
“Whoa, whoa; what is up with you this morning, man?” Taron came to stand to my left, and when I glared at him, he folded his arms across his chest.
“Stop fucking looming over me like that,” I told him, and then slightly pulled my blue beanie forward.
Taron put his tongue to his cheek. “You do realize that you’ve used that word at least four times in the last minute, right?”
I huffed. “I don’t fu–” I stopped myself, and cleared my throat before looking away from him. Just then, my phone pinged in my back pocket. With a grunt, I pulled it out, and sucked in a breath when I saw her name flashing on the screen.
I quickly scanned the message, and then shoved my phone into my coat’s side-pocket.
Focus, Reyes, I told myself. You’re here to work, and work only. Investing emotions into something that’ll never be an actual thing is pointless. I had to work more on that little fact, however hard it may be for me.
“Hey.”
I felt Taron’s hand on my shoulder. When I looked at him again, his brows were furrowed in clear concern.
“What’s wrong, Beauty?” he asked. “Is it a girl problem? If it is, you can tell me, and I’ll help you out no matter the magnitude of the issue.”
And here I thought, just for a moment, that he’d suddenly turned into a sage. Oh, how wrong I was.
Even though we were both covered from top to bottom in winter wear, my brother somehow looked more at ease with all the layers on him than I did. Frustrating, I know.
“You’re married to your high school girlfriend, Taron,” I told him. “The only girlfriend you’ve ever had, need I remind you. So no, you won’t be able to help me with my girl problems, not by a long shot.”
He grinned. “So it is what I thought it was. I guessed it right, didn’t I?”
“I know you have a teenage daughter, but you don’t have to act like her all the time.”
He laughed and wrapped an arm around me.
“Ah, Myles, but it’s a very refreshing feeling to be a fifteen-year-old girl.
I’ve actually been learning so much from Sienna these days.
All those social apps and TikTok trends and whatnot.
It’s like my eyes were closed until my daughter opened them with her vast knowledge and intelligence. ”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Dear Lord,” I muttered. God forbid if I saw him doing one of those TikTok dances with multiple transitions and shit. I’d prolly have a coronary right there and then.
Great, now I couldn’t get the visual of Taron doing the Renegade out of my head. The day just keeps getting better and better for me.
“Myles?”
“Yeah?”
Taron let go of my shoulders and crossed his arms again. “Tell me what’s wrong, because I know something is.”
I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and gave him a faint smirk. “I was just imagining you doing the TikTok dances. Almost gave myself a headache because of all the vivid visuals my mind kept conjuring up.”
He scoffed. “I’m being serious, man, come on.”
I scanned his face for a moment. There was no amusement on it, or even an ounce of his usual smugness.
I sighed, and felt the snow crunch under my boots as I shifted a little.
Greg and Paul were working together now, moving the boxes and plies at a much-relaxed pace than before.
I swallowed and looked at my brother again, and when I saw the softness in his gaze, I relented and told him about yesterday.
“I really like her, man,” I said. “I hardly even know her, but it’s like she’s become the center of something worth looking forward to for me, and yet, she’s also something I can’t have.”
Taron’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline, and his beard started moving in kind of an uncomfortable manner as he worked his jaw left and right.
“Yo, boss, can you come here, please? We need your help with somethin’,” said Paul.
“Coming,” I told him, and then shrugged at Taron. “So, there’s that. Back to work for us. You good to grab our equipment from the office?”
Taron nodded. “Yeah, I’ll get them and be back in fifteen.”
“Perfect.” I turned and began jogging over to Paul and Greg.
“Myles?”
I stopped and faced my brother. “Yeah.”
He smiled at me. “Just wanted to tell you that if you start living your life under someone else’s expectation meter – someone who you barely know, despite their trust in you – then you’re not exactly living your life like it’s supposed to be lived.
I’m not asking you to disrespect or disregard Miguel and his tragic past, but know that you’re just as much entitled to doing what you want as he is.
Carina, too, to be honest. She didn’t choose to take a step forward just to have you backing out; that’s not how things work, bro.
If she’s willing to take the risk, then so should you. That’s all.”
I swallowed as I mulled over his words. He was right, of course, but he didn’t have the same perspective on things as I did. We both thought things through very differently. It’s why he’s always been so carefree, and I’ve always functioned under the fear of screwing shit up.
I smiled back at him. “Thanks, Taron,” I told him honestly. Because I really was thankful for everything he’d said. At least he understood where I was coming from, even if his approach at resolving the issue was a spontaneous one.
He shrugged. “No problem. Oh hey, you want an espresso macchiato or somethin’? I’m feeling really hollow after only a single cup of coffee since I woke up.”
I chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah.”
Taron grinned. “Cool. I’ll grab a few on the way back. See ya in a bit.”
I nodded. “Love ya, man.”
His eyes lit up at that. “Love you.”
With a nod, I turned and followed the guys inside the house.
I’d only just crossed the threshold, though, when Carina came down the stairs wearing nothing but a thin, blue t-shirt dress with pink roses all over it.
Her hair was a wavy mess; her feet were bare.
And, as she touched them to the carpet, she looked up and smiled at me.
With everything inside me, I wanted to grab her and kiss her waiting lips.
With everything inside me, I wanted to fucking burst into flames for this woman, and that’s a scary notion because I’d only met her yesterday.
And, with everything inside me, I wanted to stay glued to the same spot so that I wouldn’t end up accidentally doing either of the above things. So, I did just that, and saw as Carina’s expression morphed to one of confusion.
She jerked her head upwards when she reached me, and instinctively, I took a step back.
This close, the hurt on her face was clearly visible, and so was the silver that immediately lined her eyes upon my action.
“I can’t,” I told her. “I really can’t, I’m sorry.”
She blinked, and I watched as a single tear slid onto her right upper cheek and stayed there.
She bent and grabbed a discarded marker from the coffee table, and then looked around for something to write on.
I snatched a little diary out of my coat and handed it to her, and as she took it from me – anger riding her beautiful features – I waited for her to jot down every possible curse under my name, but what she instead wrote was:
Why?
Such a simple question, which would most definitely have an even simpler answer. For anyone but me, that is.
But if I looked at it practically, the answer was indeed very simple. It’s just that, for some reason, it felt inadequate now that I’d seen Carina’s reaction to my decision.
So, instead of being rational and telling her why we couldn’t do what we both wanted to, I took another step back and repeated myself. “I can’t.”
She swallowed, and her chest rose and fell as she took even breaths. I could tell that she was struggling to understand my sudden change of behavior, and I really wish I could explain it to her; wish I knew how to do it in the first place.
After a short while, she pushed her hair behind her left ear and began writing something. Then, once she was done, she flipped the diary in my direction, but kept her gaze turned sideways, like she couldn’t even look at me anymore.
It hurts.
My eyes burned as I read those two words, again and again. As if she hadn’t already been through enough hell in her life, now I was acting like a damn punisher to her.
“Rina…” I let her name fall from my lips; let it brush against the suffocating air I was breathing in.
She inhaled sharply, threw the diary and marker on the couch, and then turned around before heading up the stairs and back into her bedroom.
As I watched her go, I let the throbbing pain in my gut multiply. I let it take over every thought, every reason in my muddled head. I did, after all, deserve every bit of it.