Page 66 of Miguel
A nearby car honked, breaking me out of my own reveries, and making Zeke flinch. I winced with him, knowing his hearing aids had probably picked up on that, creating painful static.
I drew his attention towards me by placing a hand on his cheek.
“Let’s take these off to give your ears a break, yeah?”
I reached for his aids on either side of his ears, turning one off and going for the other, but the second one was already dead.
“Looks like the battery on this one died, buddy.” I took them both out and helped him put them in their respective cases to give to his dad when he got here.
Zeke gifted me with a soft smile that made my heart melt. I cared about this boy on a level that ran deeper than him just being my student. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to unpack all of that at the moment. I would later, in the solitude of my own bedroom. For now, I straightened, gripping the cases of his aids in my hands, just as a dark SUV parked in front of the school.
I held my breath, or it caught in my lungs unbidden. I couldn’t be sure. When Miguel walked towards us, a swagger in his step, I wanted to swoon.
He painted a sexy picture, wearing dark, tight jeans that hugged his muscular legs, a plain white t-shirt, and that leather cut.
He stopped in front of us.
“Good afternoon, Maestra Flores,” he spoke and signed simultaneously, though his signing was the slow and awkward movements of someone just learning. “Hey, Zeke.”
Zeke gifted his dad with a broad smile and reached out to take his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it was. And the ease in which he did it made me want to reach out for Miguel’s hand as well. To feel his fingers slip between my own. To feel that sense of protection.
But life was too complicated and held me back from the impulse.
“Here.” I handed over the cases. “His aids died.”
Miguel groaned. “Damned things. I’m going to have to carry around extra batteries with me.” He smiled in a way that was boyish and cute. “Ready to go?”
All my students had already left. I nodded, though my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. And when he came towards me and threw his arm around my shoulders, an ease in the gesture, and pulled me to his body, my knees nearly buckled.
His scent of leather and oil enveloped me. There was a mix of smoke and something else there as well. Something musky, masculine. Something that made me want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale for hours.
He guided Zeke and I towards the SUV, opening the passenger side door for me first. Once I was seated, he helped Zeke into the back, making sure to take care with how he buckled him in.
“So, we’re going to Tlaxcala Centro,” he said as he pulled out.
My fingers dug into the tops of my thighs. “Yeah?”
His dark gaze flicked to me. “To get ice cream.”
“I like ice cream.”
He smirked. “That’s good. We do too.”
Things in the car suddenly felt awkward and stiff. Or maybe that was just me. Maybe it was my own nerves convincing me of things I shouldn’t even think about. Was it wrong I’d given him a chance? No, it wasn’t. I wanted to. But now that I was, I was terrified. Of him, of the feelings brewing in my stomach, my heart, my entire body.
Like he could read my mind, Miguel’s hand came crashing down gently against the top of my thigh. He squeezed, and the action itself brought comfort. “Relax,” he whispered. “I won’t do anything to you, nena.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly through the nose. “I know. It’s just… This is new for me.”
“Going on dates?”
I swallowed. “Yeah, I don’t… I don’t usually date. Last boyfriend I had was a year or two ago.” I chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t even remember.”
“Well, I guess it’s like riding a bike?” His hand smoothed over my jean-clad thigh, fingers nearing my inner thigh almost unconsciously. I wondered if he knew he was doing it. If he knew the effect he had on my body, my insides. “It’s something you can’t forget.”
I hoped that was true, because while I was nervous, I wanted this to go well. Despite my misgivings about his friends, his lifestyle, I did like him. He’d convinced me to give him a chance with the sweetest of words, and that’s what I planned on doing.
He kept his hand on my leg the entire short drive to Tlaxcala City, our state’s center. It was rife with activity, even though it was a weekday. I was used to the hustle and bustle, of the diversity of people milling about. Of the indigenous people sitting on blankets on the sidewalk, babies strapped to their backs, as they put their collection of handmade jewelry out in front of them for sale. Of men with long locs setting up their stands to sell traditional style clothing and precious stones. Of the men in suits taking a break from their bank jobs by eating tacos de canasta from men selling them out of baskets on their bikes.
