Get Over You (Dare Me Book 1)

by Skylar Hunter

  “Cállate la boca!’ Reyes roars at her. “You need to leave! Now!”

  Face reddening with humiliated fury, she fumbles a pair of sunglasses out of her Hermès handbag and shoves them onto her face, then tosses her blond hair back and shoots me a venomous glare. “I hope you’re what he’s looking for. No other woman has been good enough, and I doubt you’ll be the exception.”

  “Leave,” Reyes snarls menacingly. “I won’t repeat myself.”

  She bares her teeth at me and hisses “Good luck,” then stomps past me with a hard bump to my shoulder.

  I turn to watch as she flings herself into the driver’s seat of the Porsche, slamming the door so hard my eardrums pop.

  As she peels off with a shriek of tires, I turn to find Reyes watching me with grim regret.

  “Sorry about that,” he mutters darkly.

  I step away from him, folding my arms across my chest with a smirk. “Your fuck buddy is a real piece of work. How many others will I have the pleasure of meeting while we’re in town?”

  His eyes narrow to a squint. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just wondering how many more run-ins we’re going to have with members of your harem.”

  A muscle in his cheek tics. “I don’t have a harem.”

  “Don’t you?”

  He shakes his head at me. “What do you want from me, Emerson? Did you expect me to be celibate after you broke up with me?”

  I flinch. “Of course not.”

  “Good. Because I sure as hell don’t remember you becoming a nun when you got to college,” he growls. “I saw plenty of guys in your pictures before I stopped checking your social media.”

  I stare up at him, mouth dry. “They didn’t mean anything to me.”

  “No?” He pushes his face into mine. “How many of them did you fuck?”

  The crudeness of the question takes me aback for several moments.

  “Answer me,” he demands.

  “If you must know,” I respond, my voice trembling with anger, “I slept with a whopping total of two guys in college. You know why? Because the thought of being intimate with anyone but you made me want to curl into a ball and cry. There were days I worried that I would never enjoy sex again, and I seriously thought maybe I should become a nun.”

  Reyes just looks at me, his jaw tight.

  “What about you?” I counter snidely. “How many cheerleaders and sorors did you fuck?”

  His mouth twists bitterly. “More than you want to know.”

  Tears burn my eyes, and I rapidly blink them away before whispering tightly, “It wasn’t my choice to break up with you, Reyes.”

  “I know that now. But I didn’t back then, so you can’t blame me for sleeping with other women.”

  “I don’t blame you. But I think you still blame me.”

  He scowls. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I stare up at him, my heart thudding painfully. “What Vega said about me not being there for you . . . it got under your skin because you haven’t forgiven me for leaving. Not completely.”

  He glares down at me. “Don’t put fucking words in my mouth.”

  “I don’t need to. They’re already there.”

  He glares another moment, then clenches his jaw and rakes a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is stupid. What’re we even fighting about?”

  “We’re fighting about your lover.”

  “Which is fucking ridiculous. She—”

  “—is in love with you.” I search his dangerously glittering eyes. “Does she mean something to you?”

  “No, goddammit!”

  I give him a long look.

  “Why are you staring at me like that? I’m telling the fucking truth!”

  I swallow roughly and press my fingers to my temple, feeling the onset of a headache. “I’m going inside.”

  “Good idea.”

  I shoulder past him and march up the steps. The front door is unlocked, so I walk right in and head for the staircase.

  Reyes follows me in stony silence.

  When we reach our room, I cross to the bed and sit down to remove my sandals, letting them fall to the floor with a thud that emphasizes the heavy tension between us.

  Reyes stalks to the balcony doors and glares broodingly outside.

  I stare at his squared shoulders and rigid back, gnawing my bottom lip. “Reyes . . .”

  He turns his head to one side, his face in profile. Not looking at me, but listening.

  I hesitate, searching for the right words to convey what’s in my heart. “My father forced me to break up with you. But he couldn’t have stopped us from remaining friends, Facebook buddies or pen pals. The truth is, I made the decision to sever all ties because I couldn’t bear to keep you in my life if we couldn’t be together as a couple. It was too fucking painful, Reyes. And I . . . I just—”

  The ringing of his phone interrupts my confession.

  He pulls it out of his back pocket and checks the screen. “It’s my agent,” he mutters darkly. “I should take this.”

  My heart deflates and my shoulders sag. “Go ahead,” I mumble.

  Jaw tightly clenched, he opens the balcony door and steps outside. I watch as he closes the door behind him and walks to the wrought iron railing, speaking low into the phone.

  I suddenly feel drained from the effects of too much wine and jet lag coupled with the emotional stress of fighting with Reyes.

  After staring at his back a few minutes longer, I lay down on the bed, curl up on my side and close my eyes.

  Before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  EMERSON

  I wake abruptly, opening my eyes to a shadowy room.

  Disoriented, I look out the window, surprised to see that it’s dark outside. A glance at the bedside clock tells me that it’s 8:07. I can’t believe I slept that long.

  I also don’t remember crawling under the covers. Reyes must have tucked me in.

  Lifting my head, I look around the room, searching for any sign of him.

  Suddenly there’s a gentle knock on the door.

  I turn on the bedside lamp and push myself up into a sitting position, resting my back against the headboard. “Come in.”

  The door swings open to reveal Aunt Blanca carrying a tray.

  I smile weakly. “Hi.”

  “Hola. I thought you might be hungry since you missed dinner.” She brings the tray over and settles it across my lap. Heat wafts up from a steaming plate of paella, fragrant with saffron.

  “Reyes said you were tired and we should let you sleep.”

  “Where is he?” I ask.

  “He went with Miquel and Greer to drop off some supplies at the winery in Priorat.”

  “Oh.” I drag a shaky hand through my tousled hair. “Sorry for missing dinner.”

  “No worries. Only half the family was there. The others had previous engagements.” Blanca picks up a glass of water with a slice of lime and guides it into my hand. “You look a little dehydrated. Drink up.”

  I take a grateful sip of the water.

  She eyes me knowingly. “You’ve probably had enough wine for today. Not that I would ever utter such blasphemy in Mama’s presence.”

  I grin and drink more water.

  “Mind if I keep you company?”

  “Please do.”

  She’s already making herself comfortable in a silk-upholstered chair by the window. She smiles at me, watching as I pick up my fork and begin eating.

  “This is delicious,” I murmur.

  “Isn’t it? Senyora Molina’s paella makes everything better. It’s one of Reyes’s favorite dishes.”

  “I remember,” I whisper before swallowing another forkful of rice and meat flavored with spices.

  “So what did you two fight about?” At my surprised look, Blanca laughs softly. “He’s my nephew. We bonded from the day he was born. I can always tell when something is bothering him
, even without him saying a word.”

  I stare down at my plate for a long moment. “I met one of his . . . girlfriends.”

  “Ah,” Blanca says wisely. “You met Vega.”

  I nod miserably.

  Blanca sighs. “If it’s any consolation, she has never been Reyes’s girlfriend—though not for lack of trying on her part. She had her sights set on him long before they ever met.”

  My stomach gives a jealous twist. “Who is she?”

  “She’s a beauty vlogger. A very popular one with the corporate sponsorships to show for it.”

  I grunt. “That would explain the Porsche and Hermès bag.”

  “Sí.” Blanca smiles faintly. “She’s a gorgeous woman and a talented makeup artist. She knows how to leverage her beauty and sex appeal to get what she wants.”

  “Including Reyes,” I say glumly.

  “Yes. Including Reyes.” Blanca gives me a rueful look. “He’s a man, Emerson. A rich, good-looking, famous athlete in the prime of his life. You can’t honestly expect him to turn down sex with beautiful women.”

  “I don’t,” I mumble, toying with my fork before shoveling more paella into my mouth. “How did he meet Vega?”

  “Through social media. She’d been a fan of his for a long time. One day he posted on Instagram that he was heading to Spain to visit his family. Seizing her opportunity, Vega slid into his DMs—as you young people say—and told him that she’s one of his biggest fans in Barcelona. When he responded, she offered to take him out to dinner when he arrived. He didn’t think much of it. He’s used to women throwing themselves at him, so he chalked up Vega’s invitation to harmless flirting. But the day after he got here, she showed up at the winery to make good on her promise.” Blanca smiles wryly. “You have to admire her tenacity.”

  “I’d rather not,” I grumble.

  Blanca laughs, shaking her head at me. “You have no reason to feel threatened by Vega. If anyone should feel threatened, it’s her. She knows how much you mean to Reyes.”

  I frown. “How? She didn’t even know who I was.”

  “Is that what she said?”

  I nod.

  Blanca chuckles. “She lied. She knows exactly who you are.”

  “She does?”

  “Absolutely. After your TV interview with Reyes went viral last month, Abril told me that Vega ranted about it in one of her YouTube videos. Suffice it to say that she wasn’t too happy about you and Reyes reuniting.”

  I say nothing, digesting this revelation.

  Blanca rises and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I know how upsetting it must have been to come face-to-face with one of Reyes’s lovers. But you really don’t have to worry about Vega. Reyes has never been serious about her. It’s just a fling.”

  “That’s lasted three years,” I mumble sourly.

  Blanca gives an elegant shrug. “They only see each other when he comes to Spain. And she’s not the only woman he, ah, entertains when he’s here. He and Greer are popular fixtures at Barcelona nightclubs. As you Americans say, they can’t beat the ladies off with a stick.”

  I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.

  Blanca sighs, leaning back on her hands. “Relationships are complicated, full of unexpected twists and turns. Take, for instance, my relationship with my husband. Unlike my sister and Brooks—who fell in love at first sight—Joaquim and I got off to a very rocky start. I hated him with a passion, and he thought I was a petulant child.”

  I shoot her a surprised look. “Why?”

  “Well, you see, I was furious when my father hired Joaquim as head of sales. He was an outsider, some hotshot advertising executive who had never even worked for a winery, whereas I had worked in the vineyard all my life. On top of that, I’d gone to school in California and earned dual degrees in enology and marketing so I would be prepared to run our sales division someday. Two years after I graduated, the vice president of sales position became vacant. I had been working slavishly and doing everything I could to prove myself, so I naturally assumed that I would be promoted to head of sales. But Papa apparently had other ideas. I felt hurt and betrayed by his decision to hire an outsider, and I wasn’t going to take it lying down. So the next morning, I marched into his office to give him a piece of my mind.”

  I stare at Blanca’s expressive face, riveted. “What happened?”

  “He and Joaquim were standing at the window looking out over the vineyard. When I burst into the room, they turned to look at me and I just . . . well, I froze,” she recalls with an embarrassed grin. “Joaquim was one of the most gorgeous men I had ever seen, and that’s saying a lot considering that my family is overrun with handsome men.”

  I can’t help grinning. “Very true.”

  Blanca’s dark eyes twinkle. “Joaquim took my breath away. So much so that I couldn’t move or speak for a full minute. Oh, Déu meu. It was so mortifying.”

  “I bet,” I say laughingly. “So what happened next?”

  “Once I finally managed to untie my tongue, I told Papa we needed to talk in private. He calmly sat behind his desk and told me that anything I had to say could be said in front of my new boss. That infuriated me. I launched into my speech, letting him know exactly how I felt about being overlooked for the vice president job. I told him that since I bear the family name, the position rightfully belongs to me, and if he doesn’t see my value, I’ll gladly take my talents to a competitor.”

  “Whoa,” I say incredulously, staring at her. “You were only, what, twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-three. Proud, headstrong and entitled.” Her eyes glimmer as she continues her story. “Joaquim had remained standing at the window during my diatribe. When I finished, he slowly turned around and gave me this indulgent little smile that made me feel like the most spoiled brat on earth. As I stood there fuming, he calmly folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the window, and I’ll never forget what he told me. He said: ‘There’s no disputing that you belong here at Bodegas Galindo. This winery is your inheritance. Your legacy and birthright. When I look at you, Blanca Galindo, I see a smart, ambitious young woman with a head full of ideas. But your ideas, like seedling grapes, need time to ripen on the vine before they can be harvested. You still have much to learn, and I’m able and willing to teach you everything I know. If you love Bodegas Galindo as much as you say you do, then stay and roll up your pretty sleeves and help make this phenomenal company the best in the world. But if you absolutely must go work for a competitor, I’m more than happy to give you a glowing reference.’”

  “Oh, my God,” I breathe, staring at Blanca. “Did he really say that to you?”

  “He did. Word for word.” She grins. “I was stunned . . . speechless. When I looked at Papa, he could barely contain his laughter. I just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. Joaquim smiled calmly and told me to take a day to think it over. He gave me until the next morning to leave my resignation letter on his desk. After that he wouldn’t accept it. Those were his terms. And with that, he turned back to the window and dismissed me like a child being sent to bed.”

  I’m grinning so hard. “What happened after that? You obviously didn’t resign.”

  “Obviously.” She heaves a long, deep sigh. “As it turns out, Papa was right. Joaquim is a brilliant marketing strategist. He’s innovative and creative, a bold risk-taker who’s been a tremendous asset to our company. I’ve learned so much from him, and I can honestly say that bringing him on board was one of the wisest decisions Papa ever made.” She sighs again. “It wasn’t easy, but I had to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong.”

  I grin at her. “And now you and Joaquim are a celebrated power couple—the brains behind the company’s most memorable ad campaigns.”

  “Indeed. We make an excellent team,” she says with a smile of quiet satisfaction. “He’s the love of my life.”

  “I can tell.”

  She smiles at me. “And Reyes is yours.”

>   My grin wavers, throat tightening as I lower my eyes to my empty plate. “I don’t think he’ll ever completely forgive me for leaving him.”

  Blanca sighs. “If that were true, Emerson, he wouldn’t have brought you here, a place he holds sacred.” She gently brushes my hair back from my forehead and cradles my cheek in her hand. “Your father already stole so much from you and Reyes. Promise me you won’t let anything else come between you.”

  I hold her quiet gaze for a long moment, then swallow hard and nod. “I promise.”

  “Good girl.” She gives me a motherly smile and pats my cheek, then stands and picks up the tray. “You’ve had a long day. I’ll let you get some more rest.”

  I smile at her. “Thanks for the talk.”

  “Thanks for listening.” She winks at me before heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.

  After she leaves, I slip out of bed and cross the room to the balcony doors. Opening them, I step outside and stand in the warm night air, inhaling fragrant hibiscus and frangipani as I gaze up at the star-littered sky.

  It’s such a romantic night. A night meant for lovers.

  I miss Reyes like crazy. I wish he was here with me. I wish we didn’t have that big fight.

  I hate that I allowed his jealous lover to ruin what had been a perfect day for us. I know I probably overreacted, but just the thought of him having sex with someone as beautiful as Vega made me see red.

  And what she said about the Super Bowl . . . God.

  Her words were like a sharp knife slashing across my throat, severing my jugular and spilling my blood.

  She was with Reyes at the biggest moment of his life. She was there to share his triumph and joy.

  Not me.

  Her.

  It fucking hurts. God, it hurts.

  She’s in love with him and clearly obsessed. But does he have feelings for her? Did he ever envision himself settling down with her, taking her back to America and building a life with her?

  The possibility is unbearable.

  With a heavy heart, I walk back inside and crawl under the covers. My phone stares at me from the bedside table, the screen dark and silent.