Collapsing to the bed, I roll us so we’re face to face, and drape my arm over Layla’s waist to drag her closer. With a sated smile, she kisses me tenderly. We don’t speak, just settle into the bliss of the most explosive sex we’ve had yet. Every time we’re together is passionate and mind-blowing, but this time felt likemore. Maybe it was the realization that I don’t justloveLayla,but I’m inescapablyin lovewith her. She’s my endgame, the one I want to spend every waking and sleeping moment with for the rest of my life. I want to be the one that encourages and empowers her to do what makes her happy and be what she wants to be, rather than living by what others expect of her. One day—when and if it’s what she wants—I hope to marry her and have a family. But if she never wants to take those steps, I’d be perfectly content just to be in her presence.
Layla’s breathing deepens as she drifts off to sleep, her long lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones. The air conditioner kicks on causing goose flesh to pebble her skin, so I pull the blanket over us. I should sneak out and back to my room now, but I don’t want to let her go just yet.
“I love you, mo chroi,” I whisper into her hair.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Layla
“The coast is clear,” I whisper when I duck my head back into my room.
Teagan fell asleep in my bed, and considering Abuela tends to be here early on tamale days, I have to make sure she’s not lurking in the hallway when he sneaks out. When I turn around, he’s pulling his jeans over his hips and I get momentarily mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and bunch. He catches me staring and smirks.
“Unless you want your Abuela to hear me fuck you against the door, you better stop looking at me like that, Lovely.”
“Your filthy mouth…” Shaking my head, I stoop to pick up his shirt and toss it in his face.
“Ach, you love my filthy mouth and you know it.”
He’s right. I do.
“Get out of here. I don’t want to incur her wrath or be sent to Confession.”
He reaches for the doorknob, still shirtless, while planting a quick kiss on my lips. Just as he pulls it open, I stretch an arm across.
“Put your shirt on! What if someone else sees you leaving my room half-clothed?”
“You just said the coast is clear.” He reminds me. “It’ll be fine. I’m just stepping across the hall.”
“Teagan,” I hiss as he yanks the door open. Standing there, with her arms crossed over her chest, stands my Abuela, eyebrow raised.
Shit.
“Abuela! Hi! Teagan was just…” My face flames in mortification.
“¡Basta! I can see what he wasjust doingand you should be ashamed of yourselves!”
“Ah, Mrs…” Teagan starts, hurriedly yanking his shirt on.
She cuts him a scathing look that stops him in his tracks. When Abuela gives that look, everyone stops.
“Clearly, your mother didn’t teach you correctly. If you’re going to sneak a boy out of your room, you always check twice before shoving him out the door! I expected better.”
Wait…
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask dumbfounded. Mami has always ingrained it in me that Abuela is the one to watch out for.
“You better be glad it was me, and not your Abuelo, that found you! He would be carting you off to the church faster than you can blink.” She eyes Teagan appreciatively, a small smile stretching across her face, before looking back at me. “Otherwise, good for you, cariño. Muy guapo.”
With that, she scurries down the hallway toward the kitchen, leaving Teagan and I gaping at each other in disbelief.
“So…” he says slowly. “Does this mean I can share a bed with you for the rest of the trip?”
Snorting, I push him into the hallway and close the door in his face. God, I love him. And against my better judgment, I’ve loved having him here in Texas with my family. It hasn’t been quite as horrible as I originally thought.He fits so perfectly, weaving himself in seamlessly. He gets along with my brothers, especially Raf, like he’s known them for ages. He’s kind to my sisters, listening to their teenage chatter with interest and making them feel seen. He and my Papá spent more than a couple of hours discussing how big corporations are detrimental to small business owners. Other than when Teagan reminds her that I’m my own person, Mami gets along great with him. Last night at the rodeo, he patiently listened to Abeulo describe the rodeos he grew up attending while asking questions. And clearly Abuela loves him. When she told him she expected his help with tamales, he didn’t bat an eye, just agreed to do whatever she needed of him. I honestly think he’s more excited about it than she is.
Quickly throwing on a hoodie over my leggings, I toss my hair up in a messy bun, and swipe some deodorant under my arms before stepping out of my room. After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I pad into the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and chorizo. I hear Mami’s laughter mingling with the deep timber of Rafael’s voice, and hope he’s making his special Chilaquiles. He has some secret ingredient that he refuses to tell any of us. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch him make Chilaquiles, I never figure it out. As I round the corner, I see that it’s not just my mother and brother congregating, but also Teagan and Abuela. The latter are sitting at the kitchen table looking through an old family recipe book. My heart warms watching her talk him through the process of making tamales. He’s completely invested.
“Buenos días, mija,” Mami greets me and Teagan’s eyes lift in my direction. He winks before giving his attention back to Abuela.
