“Where are you off to?”
I turned, and there he was, sitting shirtless at the island. That was another thing I’d learned about living with him—Elliott practically lived in sweatpants and no shirts. Torture. Absolute torture.
I’d always called him the devil, but as a woman with a pulse, this was hell on earth. His abs looked like you could play tic-tac-toe on them, and every muscle on his torso was perfectly cut. Veins corded down his arms, and I hated that I was such a sucker for them. Why couldn't he just have noodle arms and one sad little ab? Even the strongest woman alive couldn’t have looked away, and I wasn't even close to strong.
I’d started drawing him in a secret notebook I kept under my pillow—sweats, abs on display, but with a giant paper bag over his head. They made me laugh, but they also made me hotter than I cared to admit. I wished I’d packed my vibrator. Mental note: dig it out of the closet after the party.
“It’s my niece’s birthday party,” I managed, my throat dry. My ovaries were crying like newborns as his abs flexed withevery small movement. For Christmas, I was asking for two things: self-control and a top-of-the-line vibrator with a lifetime supply of batteries.
He closed his laptop, finally giving me his full attention. “How are you getting there?”
“Um, I was just going to grab an Uber. Not a big deal.” Truth was, I didn’t drive anywhere, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I can take you.”
“No, really. You don’t have to. You’re busy. These parties last all day, and it’s Saturday. You probably have plans.”
“Really, it’s fine. No trouble.”
Before I could argue further, he disappeared into his bedroom, shutting the door on my weak protests. In the days I’d been there, Elliott hadn’t done much outside of work and home. He was alwaysthere. I sat on the couch, fidgeting and glancing at my phone, regretting that I hadn't snuck out the window. Being raised in a hispanic family made me allergic to accepting help; you never wanted to inconvenience anyone.
When he finally reappeared, he was in jeans and a plain T-shirt, but somehow, he still looked like he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. We headed to the garage, where his cars were parked—his white sedan, the SUV, and his father's vintage Mercedes. He chose the sedan, which told me it was his probably his preference.
We got to my parents’ house in no time. The street was already lined with cars, and I recognized most of them—family, of course. I guided him toward a spot where his car wouldn’t get dinged, and before we got out, I gave him one last out.
“Are you sure you want to come in? You don’t have to. My mom won’t let you leave once you step inside, and as you can see, I’ve got plenty of options for a ride home.”
He cut me off with a sharp, almost biting reply. “Stop trying to convince me not to stay. I want to be here, Ness. I don’t do things I don’t want to do.”
The bluntness hit me, and I realized he’d been holding that in for a while. I fought him every step of the way, and still, I believed him—that he wouldn’t be there unless he wanted to be. Maybe it was because my mom adored him. Maybe the hero worship did something to his ego.
The minute we walked in, we were hit with a chorus of, “¡Tía! ¡Tía! ¡Tía!”
Five little bodies tackled me at once. I knew them all by heart; I could have identified them even blindfolded. I stumbled back, acting wounded, before collapsing onto the floor as they piled on top of me. When the giggles finally died down, I saw Gaby toddle toward us. I glanced at Elliott as Gaby kicked him lightly in the shin, and gave him a look. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.
It was like Gaby was saying,Hi. Play with me.Elliott looked completely confused, which only made me love it more.
“It’s his way of saying hi.” Gaby hadn’t started talking yet, though he had been in speech therapy for a while. I knew it was only a matter of time before he became a total chatterbox. I was convinced his head was already full of ideas and opinions; he was just being stingy with them, waiting until he was good and ready to share.
Without missing a beat, Elliott bent down, scooped Gaby up, and flipped him upside down, tickling him until the baby’s laughter filled the house. Mom rushed out to see what was going on, with Morgan right behind her. Elliott set the now-dizzy baby down and then offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet like I weighed nothing at all.
Mom hugged me and kissed my cheek before turning to Elliott, whispering littlesecretosto him in Spanish. I huggedMorgan, who, true to form, had never missed a single birthday for any of the kids. The look of shock on Elliott’s face told me it’s something he hadn’t known about his sister. But I did. I knew how hard being around families could be for them, how much it scraped against wounds that had never really healed. I could never blame them. I understood.
When mom finally released Elliott, Morgan threw herself into his arms, and I slipped away with mom and the kids to give them privacy.
“Party’s in the backyard when you’re ready,” I called over my shoulder.
“Is that my gift,Tía?” Chloe asked, tugging at my hand.
I grinned at her beautiful little face. “Hmm. Maybe. Is it your birthday today?”
“Yes!” she screamed, her wide smile revealing even more missing teeth than the last time I’d seen her.
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” I teased, scooping her up.
Dios mío, she was heavy. The day was coming when I wouldn’t be able to pick most of them up anymore. Even Alberto or Bertie, my godson and second-to-last youngest, was already growing up so fast. Soon, Gaby would be the only one I could carry. The thought made me want to curl into a ball and cry into a pint of ice cream.
Outside, the whole yard was decked out in pink and gold streamers. A massive bounce house dominated one corner and a trampoline the other—both overflowing with kids. I spotted plenty of mytíasandtíos, and more cousins than I could count.
