Laughing, he tightens his arm around my shoulders and draws me back against him. Closer. “I’ve had worse on me. Trust me.”
After the story he told me outside, I believe him.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head on his shoulder. We sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. Outside, the distant sound of children’s laughter merges with adult voices. And as my stomach slowly settles, I think about my conversation with Lina.
“Lina told me about your parents,” I say, voice low. “She said you usually tell people about it and she looked kind of guilty for mentioning it after.”
He lets out a sigh. “Ah, she’s right. It’s not something I hide. Usually.”
But he didn’t want me to know.
“Why didn’t you? I’m not demanding or?—”
“I know," he interjects. “It’s something that happened a long time ago. Losing my parents, foster care, moving to Rios, and starting fresh in a smaller town—it's all in the past. I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“I wouldn’t have felt sorry for you, Win,” I say, squeezing his hand. “I’m a little in awe of your strength. After Simon died, I was angry and hurting and in so much pain. I look at you, and you give me hope that I’ll get back to smiling and laughing when I thought I never would again.”
He kisses my forehead. “You will. Just takes time. It helps to have people around you who love you unconditionally. I did a lot of leaning on people when I came to Rios, and I wasn’t always smiling and laughing. Who you surround yourself with after life knocks you down is important.”
“You surrounded yourself with Nico and Lina?”
“Nico and his wife, Alexandria, gave me chances no one else ever did. They helped me find an apartment and paid the security deposit when they barely knew me. They, and Lina, made it easier to smile, to laugh, to not care about singing badly because as long as I was happy, it didn’t matter that I couldn’t sing for shit.”
“Sounds like you lost a family, came to Rios, and gained another one,” I say quietly.
He hums. “It does sound like that, huh?”
I smile with tears in my eyes, glad he found the fresh start he was looking for. “You’re not the worst singer I’ve ever heard, Win.”
“Really?” he snorts. “I sound like a feral cat in heat.”
There’s no way I can’t laugh at that, and I do, lifting my head to meet his gaze to find him grinning at me.
Slowly, as if afraid I’ll pull away if he moves too fast, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. One touch and my body ignites, reliving the heat of our kiss in my room. I’m not the only one thinking of a repeat from the heat filling his gaze.
"I don't regret it," I admit, voice low.
He cocks his head.
"Our kiss." I clear my throat, cheeks hot. "You ran out of my room pretty quick and I..."
"You..." He goes from confused to breathing too fast to be calm.
"I forgot my son was sitting next to me. I didn't want you to think that I didn't like it."
His eyes soften. "I liked it too. Enough that I ran out of your room and right into a wall."
I laugh. "I'm sorry. Did you hurt yourself?"
"Didn't feel a thing. My mind was still back on that kiss."
"So..." My gaze drops to his mouth, conscious that he's looking at mine.
"So..." he murmurs, leaning closer.
Our lips brush as a door slams, and we break away, breathing fast.
I hear a door open, hurried footsteps, and a man’s slightly panicked voice say, “There are so many of them. Tell me why I’m here again?”
