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I walk inside, and our eyes lock like we’re the only ones around.
“Hey!” A bubbly, petite blonde appears to the right of him.
Gently, she touches his shoulder. I swallow my joy but refuse to turn around out of embarrassment.
His eyes stagger about as if he, too, is confused.
I clear my throat and head two stools down from him as I watch her from my peripheral, swing her head toward me, and exclaim, “I’m so sorry. I thought you were alone.”
She laughs, and I’m happy to see where the embarrassment has landed. Gripping her confidence, she saunters off with her chest up and out.
Joaquin beckons me with his gray eyes before he says, “Get over here.”
The command of his voice softens me like warm bread. I lean into him, and he gives me a sweet, lingering hug as if he wants to pull me into his lap.
“Had a feeling you’d be out tonight.”
For several seconds, he holds my hand with both of his.
This is overwhelming. As much as I shouldn’t have feelings for this mature man, I do.
“Really? Because it’s so nice outside, maybe.”
He shrugs, “And I know you cherish your independence, and being with your grandmother without a break to explore sounds like it’d be rough for you.”
“Impressive.” And I nod. “You got me figured out.”
The huskiness in his laughter turns me to goo.
“You miss me?” He dares to ask me this.
Fuck.The answer is a big fat yes with an exclamation mark. But I don’t want to share it. However, I may not have a happy ending tonight if I don’t. I really want to feel him all over me.
I respond with a smirk, one he can easily read.
“How’s Adam? You have the night to yourself, huh?”
“He’s with my parents. And, um…I don’t have your number. Was hoping to bump into you, which God made sure we did.”
I swallow my urge to say the universe granted us this opportunity.
“Glad you have a night to yourself. And bumping into me is definitely a plus.”
I wonder if Adam is spending the night with his grandparents or if he’s just being watched until pickup.
“This means you have the house to yourself?”
The bartender places a beverage nap before me, making me break eye contact with Joaquin, who is already casting his hungry bedroom eyes my way.
I order a glass of Pinot Grigio and slide myself a couple of stools down to sit next to the man I want to drill me against a wall. I can’t or won’t deny the intensity of my sexual tension as I know we both want it, but…all my other desires, I place on mute.
It’s hard for me to let go of the words he said to me when we made love. “I’m not letting you leave this town.” A mixed bag of feelings they give me. I want him to dominate me; I want him to want me desperately. I love that his sex is so good that it makes me want to stay here forever, but I don’t. I need my independence and my adventures to make a mark in this world. But, something about imagining Christmas with him and Adam. Something about experiencing the four seasons, eating more of his cooked food, and arguing with him until every possible sexist bone in his body is broken…turns me on. Why? When that isn’t the life, I’m trying to cultivate.
“How’s the memoir going?”
I fill him in on Grandma’s shenanigans, and we laugh about our elders’ wild pearls of wisdom. Interestingly enough, our grandparents are of similar age despite our age difference. I think it’s pretty cool I don’t feel the age gap between us. It could be my own maturity as, at times, I find it hard to bond with twenty-somethings who’d rather drink until they puke or stay up until they pass out.
“Oh, and I enjoyed bumping into your regular customer, Isabella.”
