“It is.” His smirk is playful, and I’m swooning again. No, not swooning, Daisy. Focus.
“This is not lowkey,” I mumble.
“Daisy Zimmerman, did you not do your research?” His eyes open wide in complete amazement. The reality is, I don’t go anywhere unprepared. My plan Bs have a plan B, always. But work has been extremely difficult this season, and I didn’t think much of this weekend. I figured, how hard could it be to show up to the Caribbean for a few days? Apparently, damn fucking hard if this is what it looks like everywhere.
“I’m wearing leggings and a hoodie, for Christ’s sake,” I whisper-shout, making him chuckle.
Well, great; there’s that stupid laugh accompanied by that stupid dimple under the edge of his beard. Just one dimple, a non-dimple, according to him. He hit his cheek when he was six, right before I met him, and tore his muscle. Now, he has the most perfect dimple, because life’s not fair.
“You look great, as usual. It’ll be fine.”
It’s finally our turn to check in, and I take the time to let my hair out from the tiny ponytail it’s been captive in all day. I remove my hoodie swiftly and slide it into my handbag. I perform what could be considered a small jump and stand next to him. As small as it can be, considering I’m a thick, tall girl.
He scans something around my face.Oh, my hair. “You like? I had an existential crisis, and it needed to go.”
By existential crisis, I mean I couldn’t fit in half my bathing suits since I’ve gained weight this past year—thanks PCOS for being a bitch. It’s not that I don’t love my new curves and rolls, but it’s annoying how much my body changes without warning. I’m eating the same way and working out as often as I can, but with the damn hormonalimbalance and how sky high my cortisol levels are because of my job, I can’t maintain my weight.
“You cut it all off,” he whispers in a groggy tone, running his fingers through my hair.
I shrug and shake my head, letting my dark bob bounce near my shoulders. “Notall, silly, just about ten inches. Does it look bad?” It’s not that I didn’t expect a reaction from him, but more like I wasn’t expecting this, whatever it is.
“Nothing looks bad on you, Daisy.” See? This is why. This is why my stomach does little somersaults and my heart drops. Why does he have to say sweet things like this, with his husky tone and his glazy, dark chocolate eyes?
“Then why are you acting like this?” Mateo doesn’t have a chance to answer, because the front desk agent interrupts our conversation.
“Here you go. Your key to your room, Mr. and Mrs. Sanz.” I practically choke on my spit.
“She’s not?—”
“We’re not—” we both say in unison.
I shake my head and smile. “Go ahead.”
“We’re not married, and it should be two rooms,” Mateo adds.
She clicks the keys on her computer, and with concern on her face, she says, “I’m sorry, it says there is one room for Mateo Sanz with two adults in the room…” She continues talking, but her voice becomes a muffled sound. I have zero issues spending time with Mateo, but in the same room? There’s no need to freak out, though; he’ll fix it.
“Not a problem. Can I just pay for an additional room?” he asks.
“I can pay too.” That earns me a narrow-eyed stare from Mateo. He’s the easiest going person I know, butsome things, he won’t let go. Me paying for things is one of them. He never lets me, no matter how hard I try.
“I am so sorry, but we are fully booked. I only have this room available. I apologize for the inconvenience. I can check with our sister resort, if you’d like.” The Splendor Resorts have more than one property in their chain, but this one, The Caribbean Splendor Resort, has the most perks. According to Mateo, that is, because I was just along for the ride and didn’t read anything beyond it.
He looks at me with questions behind his dark brown eyes. “It’s up to you, Daisy. I’ll happily move to another location if that’s what you want.”
WhatIwant? It shouldn’t matter what I want. It should be about what’s best for us. And staying in the same room should not be what’s best.
“Mateo, you made it,” a voice I would recognize anywhere says from behind us. We both turn to see his mom, Ada, walking toward us. She got here a few days ago, so where we look like traveling bums—at least I do—she looks refreshed, relaxed, and completely shocked to see me.Oh shit.
“Daisy?” she asks as soon as she kisses Mateo on the cheek. She often offers me the same greeting, but she doesn’t this time. She’s really thrown off by this.Greeeeeat. When Mateo said he wouldn’t tell his mom who his plus one was, I thought it was a good idea. A lot of things seemed like a good idea four months ago. Not so much anymore.
“Hi, Mrs. Sanz. Good to see you.”
“Likewise, sweetheart. Where are my manners?” She closes the space between us, kissing my cheek and smiling with a puzzled look.
“Mateo, I thought you said your girlfriend was coming.”
“Mm-hmm. She did.” He steps closer to me, his spicy, clean masculine scent wrapping around me as his large hand touches my lower back. I feel tiny next to him, and I love it. Considering that I’m five foot ten, it’s rare that a man makes me feel small. Mateo, at well over six feet, does, and I love it. It makes me feel protected, always has, since the day he almost punched little Teddy in the face for calling me a boy on the bus. I didn’t take offense to it, but Mateo did. He reminded that little punk that girls could play sports too, and if he tried to make fun of me again, he was going to show him. Little Teddy never bothered me again, and I’m pretty sure that’s the day my self-esteem got the boost it needed. It allowed me to always be myself without worrying about what other people might think, because at least Mateo, one of the most important people in my life, had my back.
