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“A hotel?” Her eyebrow raises. She shakes her head, places the car indrive, and heads out of the circular driveway. “You can stay at my parents’ guest house while you and… your family work things out.”
Her parents’ house? As much as I’d love to spend more time with Ysenia, staying at her parents’ place hasher dad with a shotgunwritten all over it. I’ll end up six feet underground before dinner. Besides, my mother would never let me survive after that. She’d be enraged with jealousy. She can’t stand me but she doesn’t want anyone else near me.
Crazy woman,I complain to myself.
“I do believe that would make you harboring a fugitive,” I joke, making her giggle.
“My parents will be thrilled to harbor you, Miguel,” she smiles.
My name rolling off her tongue is an incredible sound. I can’t help but feel like a kid again. Anxious, nervous, and enthralled by her. It’s always been this way when Ysenia was around. When she’s around, her presence commands my attention without even trying. She’s the one that got away.
She was never mine to begin with,I remind myself.Too big of a chicken.
“I don’t want to inconvenience your parents,” I reply.
“I understand,” she whispers. She smiles; however, I can tell it is forced. I hurt her feelings by turning down the invitation.
“I didn’t mean to insult you, Ysenia.”
“Ha. It takes a lot more than that to insult me,” she glances at me, grins then looks back at the road. “Is there a particular hotel in mind?”
“Ysenia, I really–”
She shakes her head and waves her hand as though waving off my words.
“Miguel, relax,” she laughs. “I’m tougher than you think.”
“Maybe, we can hang out sometime before I head back to Italy,” I suggest before my damn brain has a chance to register the words.
Why the hell did I just say that?
“Really?” she seems just as surprised as me. Her grip on the steering wheel has tightened. She hasn’t looked at me, but I have a feeling she’s trying hard not to.
“Sorry. Your boyfriend or husband probably wouldn’t like that idea,” I reply dodging the bullet slightly.
“Nice to see you have a sense of humor,” she whispers.
“What do you mean?” I shift slightly in my chair to look at her. “Which part was funny? Me asking you out on a date?”
Another internal groan vibrates my entire body. It’s always been like this. Every time I’m around Ysenia, I make an absolute ass of myself. The more I try to dig my way out, the deeper I get.
“A date?” she asks softly.
“Uh. Well,” I stammer, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love to go out on a date with you. I just don’t want your boyfriend or husband killing me.” The last of my words come out in a nervous chuckle.
“Why do you assume I have a boyfriend or husband?” she glances at me then back at the road.
Damn. Now I really have no chance of ever making Ysenia mine. All hope dwindles from my mind, body, and soul. And, I’ve yet again, made an ass of myself.
“Oh,” I suck in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume you were… uh… straight. It’s just that–”
Ysenia’s laughter stops my words dead in their tracks. She seems royally amused by my words. The heavenly sound erupts from her for what seems to be an eternity, but I have no complaints. I smile the entire time like an idiot, just listening to her laughter.
“Oh, my goodness,” she giggles, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I meant, why do you think I’m taken? I didn’t mean that I was a lesbian.”
She presses her lips together. I can tell she is fighting hard to not laugh again.
“Oh,” I reply. It’s the only word in my vocabulary that manages to push out my mouth.
