This is not me at my best,he wanted to tell her, embarrassed, not only because they were fucking against the wall of an alleyway, which was not the most romantic of backdrops, but because he’d had his fair share of alcohol that night and he wasn’t going to last long and he knew she didn’t want him to drag it out. Just a quick fuck.
At least he could kiss her properly, and he did. He kissed her with a bruising intensity, until her breathing turned short and shallow. He felt her body tighten around him, and he lost his rhythm and shuddered to a halt, moaning into the side of her neck.
Too soon she disentangled herself from him, smoothing down herskirts and pulling away. “Estrella will be expecting me,” she said, and the simplicity of the remark felt bruising.
She couldn’t remain with him, and he hadn’t anticipated a long, effusive parting. But suddenly he wanted her to stay. Only a minute longer.
He interrupted her retreat, caught her hand, and spun her around to kiss her one last time, lingering against her, his hands at her waist. He wished he knew lines fromEl Correo del Amor,even if they were trite.
She looked up at him and raised a hand to carefully cup his face—it was her turn to surprise him—before she slid away, rushing down the alley.
He rested against the wall, his heart still thumping wildly in his chest, and looked up at the night sky. After a couple of minutes, he retrieved the mask he’d dropped and walked back the way they’d come.
19
Breakfast was not delivered tothe rooms of guests during the festival of San Fidel de las Cumbres. Bread and milk would have been useless on a morning such as this, and an early breakfast would have also been pointless. Everyone who chanced to crack their eyes open would do it close to noon, and the only tolerable lunch menu consisted of vast amounts of shrimp soup.
The scent of onions, garlic, chilies, and shrimp wafted from the kitchen throughout the ground floor of the house, promising relief to each person who had imbibed too much. There was no better remedy for a hangover.
“Hurry, Fito, finish washing those dishes,” the cook ordered. “You’re too slow today. How much did you have to drink last night?”
“Hardly a glass,” the boy said, although his eyes looked red.
Then again, the eyes of half the men staying at the house were crimson, and the women hid their dark circles under their makeup.
“A glass and a bottle, I bet,” Inés said, and she laughed as she helped Rita by carrying a couple of bowls of soup into the dining room, where the guests who had dragged themselves out of bed waited for the spicy broth that might alleviate their headache.
Aunt Perla was still asleep and likely would not rise for another couple of hours. Therefore, Inés sat herself in front of Ulises and looked at him rather than keeping her gaze low, and enjoyed the smile he gave her, which she returned with a smile of her own.
The dog circled the table, wagging its tail and hoping for a morsel. When everyone was done eating, she gave it a shrimp and began carrying the bowls back into the kitchen. Ulises assisted her with a few of the dirty dishes and paused next to her as she was exiting the kitchen.
“I want to talk to you,” he said.
“The dog needs to go for a walk. Come with me and we’ll talk outside,” she replied.
“I’ll take the camera with me.”
She grabbed the leash and Diógenes wagged his tail, delighted by the chance to venture out. Later she’d have to iron her aunt’s dress for that evening. It was a plain navy dress Perla had worn before, but Inés had altered the neckline to give it a little pep. For the closing celebrations Perla had ordered a burgundy dress from the best seamstress in town, to show the people of Puerco Ahogado that she could afford such an expense, even though Inés could have manufactured it for a fraction of the cost.
Once they reached the street she spoke to Ulises. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.
He leaned down, whispering in her ear. “I long to kiss you.”
She shivered. The words were a caress. They ventured on toward the town square, stepping over streamers that had fallen to the ground thenight before, evading the glistening shards of a bottle that had shattered on the pavement.
“You can’t.”
“I know I can’t.”
“It was stupid, what we did. Never again,” she told him.
“Absolutely. But I had a marvelous time.”
He smiled and she didn’t smile back, but she wanted to, and it was hard to keep her lips pressed together, firm and serious. She didn’t want him thinking she was soft, the kind of girl who grew giddy the first time a man bedded her. It had been a silly impulse, that was all. A folly mixed with idiotic desire.
For a while they aimlessly walked through the winding streets of Puerco Ahogado. He paused to take several pictures: of the church, of the flowerpots outside houses, of the sky. They bought ice cream at a tiny shop and sat side by side, like corny sweethearts might. But then it was time to head back and they slowly retraced their steps.
She looked at him. He was utterly handsome that morning. Not a hair out of place, freshly showered, with his shirtsleeves rolled up above the elbow. The night’s celebrations had not left a mark upon his face.
