by Alexis Daria
“Sí, me gusta. Tan delicioso.” Despite the words of praise, Gabe’s voice came out strained. He shot a look at Michelle, who was watching him carefully. How could he tell them the sweet, slippery dessert tasted like home?
When they were done, his father got up and began collecting the dishes.
Michelle jumped to her feet. “I’ll help you, Esteban.”
“Ay, nena.” Esteban made a shooing motion with his free hand. “Siéntate. No es necesario.”
“My mother would kill me if I didn’t help clean up after enjoying such a wonderful meal.” Michelle took Gabe’s plate and gave him a meaningful look, then she was gone, leaving Gabe and his mother alone.
Norma reached across the table and took Gabe’s hand in both of hers.
“It’s good to see you,” she said, patting his hand.
“You too,” Gabe said in a low voice. Even with all the years and bullshit between them, it was true. He’d missed her.
Then she shot a look over her shoulder, to where Michelle and Esteban chatted easily over the running water in the sink.
“It’s been a long time,” his mother whispered, turning back to Gabe. “I know you were angry. But please don’t disappear again. He couldn’t take it if you did.”
Defensive anger rose up in Gabe. He? That was rich. She expected him to believe Esteban was upset at his disappearance? His father was the one who’d told him to go and never come back. All the calls and texts after that had come from his mother’s cell phone, until, in a moment of resentment and despair, Gabe had finally blocked the number.
In response, Gabe just gave a noncommittal nod. He wouldn’t make any promises on that front.
Michelle came back, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “Ready?”
Gabe got up and the four of them walked to the front door.
“Visit again, okay?” his dad said, slapping him on the back. “Before you go back to California.”
Gabe hesitated. He was supposed to leave the next day. But between the quinceañera this weekend, his sister’s demand that he visit her, and whatever was happening here with his parents—not to mention Michelle—he clearly needed to extend his stay.
“Okay,” he said. And then he was surprised when his dad smiled.
“Bueno. Hasta luego, mijo.”
Yes, Gabe would see them later. And he had a feeling they wouldn’t hold back next time.
They all hugged and kissed goodbye, and Gabe put his arm around Michelle as they walked the short distance back to her family home.
“You all right?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “But . . . I’m glad you were with me.”
She slipped her arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze. Then released him to climb the steps and unlock the door.
Once they were back inside, Gabe’s shoulders sagged. “God, I’m exhausted.”
“That’s a shame.” Michelle toed off her sandals. “You went through a lot for those condoms. But if you need to rest, that’s fi—” She ended with a squeal as Gabe spun her into his arms for a kiss. When they came up for air, she looked dazed.
“You seem to have caught your second wind,” she murmured.
“I always have energy for you,” he said, because what he really wanted to say was I’m under a lot of emotional stress and I need you. When he kissed her again, she wrapped her arms around his neck, rising up on tiptoe. Gabe grabbed her butt and lifted her further. When she locked her legs around his waist, he carried her to the stairs and up to his room. And then, for just a little while, he let himself get lost in her. Completely.
Chapter 16
Gabe: Hey, I tried calling you.
Fabian: Sorry. Shit’s crazy right now. I’m at the hospital.
Gabe: What happened? Is it Iris?
Fabian: My mom broke her leg.
Gabe: Oh shit. I’m sorry to hear that.
Fabian: Yeah. It’s not a bad break, but with the twins on the way and Dad’s surgery, it’s not ideal. Anyway, what’s up? How’s it going over there?
Gabe: I have to extend my time in New York.
Fabian: Because of the gym? Or because of her?
Gabe: What?
Gabe: No.
Gabe: I mean, kind of. I saw my dad.
Fabian: Oh damn. How?
Gabe: I’ll explain later. But I have to stay a few extra days. I’m going to miss the Monday meeting.
Fabian: Honestly dude, there’s so much going on right now, I can’t even think about next week. Just do what you went there to do. See you when you get back.
Gabe: Take care of your fam.
Fabian: I’m trying!
Chapter 17
Michelle pulled into the parking lot and searched for an empty spot. The quinceañera was being held at an event space in the Hudson Valley, which was lush and green in late summer. It was hot, but less humid than it had been in the city. Above them, the skies stretched out bright blue, with only a few wisps of clouds. The drive up had been pretty, but once the glow of morning sex had faded, Gabe had started freaking out again.
“We’re late,” he said for at least the tenth time.
Michelle shrugged and navigated to the overflow lot behind the venue. “Well, someone bought two whole boxes of condoms . . .”
“Please, Mich, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t talk about the condoms while we’re around your family.”
“You’re kidding yourself if you think your mom hasn’t already told my mom about it.”
He groaned and leaned back in the seat.
Michelle gave him an appreciative once-over, then found an empty spot right near the side entrance.
The two of them looked like they’d just pulled off a heist and needed to ditch their disguises. Michelle was clad in black full-body shapewear and gold sandals. Gabe was wearing boxers and a black sleeveless undershirt, plus his socks and chanclas.
In reality, they’d left late enough that they wouldn’t be able to check in at their hotel first. Rather than make the whole drive sitting in their fancy attire—after running around yesterday to find a pair of pants and a shirt that would fit Gabe’s muscles—they left their freshly steamed clothes hanging from hooks in the back seat and made the drive in their underthings.
“Is anyone around?” Michelle asked, looking out the windows.
“We’re late. Everyone is probably inside already.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “This is my family we’re talking about. I’d be surprised if half of them are here. And you know Ronnie is not going to start this thing on time.”
They pushed their seats back and twisted around to retrieve their clothes, then set about shimmying into them inside the car.
Michelle’s dress was tangerine orange, with a deep vee and a flared skirt. She was able to slip it on, but when she turned to Gabe to ask him to zip her up, she stifled a laugh. He’d put his shirt on and buttoned it, but he was having trouble getting his long legs into the pants while sitting in the Fiat.
“Gabe, just get out,” she said. “No one is here.”
He sent her an aggrieved look, but he opened the car door and climbed out, holding the pants over one arm.
Michelle got out, too, rounding the car so he could do the zipper on her dress.
The venue’s back door opened and Ava walked out. She stopped short, eyes going wide when she saw them.
Gabe let out a strangled squawk and dove back into the car. Michelle waved.
“Hi, Ava. Can you zip my dress for me? Since Gabe is struggling to put his pants on.”
“Michelle!” Gabe yelled from inside the car, sounding absolutely scandalized.
Ava shook her head, but walked over to them. “Why is Gabriel always half naked when I show up?”
Michelle turned so Ava could pull up the zipper. “Just your good luck, I guess.”
“Ha,” Ava muttered. “No, really. Why doesn’t he have pants on?”
Gabe stuck his head out of the car. “We were ru
nning late and Michelle suggested we drive up in our underwear so we didn’t wrinkle our clothes.”
“Brilliant idea, right?” Michelle grinned. “Hurry up, Gabe.”
Gabe stalked over to them, grumbling and tucking his shirt into the pants, which were now on his legs.
Which was a shame, since the man had stunning thighs.
“Do you need help with your tie?” Michelle asked. They’d co-opted one of her father’s ties for the occasion.
“Sure.” Gabe positioned the tie under his shirt collar and faced her, but Michelle stepped back.
“Ava, would you?” Michelle gestured at Gabe’s neck. When he gave her a look, she said, “What? You think I know how to tie a tie?”
Ava sighed, but she stepped forward and made quick and efficient work of Gabe’s tie.
He watched her hands, then looked up with a confused expression. “Was that a Windsor knot?”
“Yes.” Ava turned back to Michelle. “Go inside. I’ll be there in a minute. Titi Lisa asked me to get something from her car.”
Michelle caught her arm. “Is everyone talking about us already?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Michelle’s shoulders slumped as Ava left them. “That means yes.”
Gabe came up beside her and they watched Ava go. “It’s not too late, you know.”
“For what?”
“To run away.”
“That’s your MO. Not mine.” Besides, she’d never live it down. “Remember our story?”
“Celestial Destiny? Of course.”
She shot him an amused smirk. “No. Our fake dating story.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
She took his arm and they entered the venue together.
THE BALLROOM WAS a madhouse. The Puerto Rican Rodriguez cousins were mixed in with Ronnie’s Jamaican relatives and her husband’s equally large Mexican extended family, and likely his ex-wife’s family too. Michelle couldn’t be totally sure who was related to whom. A cacophony of Spanish and English and Spanglish and Jamaican patois threatened to overpower the music supplied by the DJ, who was one of Michelle’s distant cousins.
Eyebrows raised when they entered the room, and Michelle shoved her anxiety down into a little ball. This was the first time she’d ever brought someone to visit her family, and she was sure they were going to be completely extra about it.
Michelle and Gabe greeted everyone with a kiss on the cheek, answering each obligatory “¿Cómo estás?” with English—Michelle—and Spanish—Gabe. They made their way through a crowd of tíos, tías, and cousins, many of whom remembered Gabe from Michelle’s childhood birthday parties, before finally reaching Michelle’s parents, Dominic and Valentina. They had returned from Florida that morning and retrieved their car from Dominic’s brother who lived in Queens.
“There you are!” Michelle’s mom reached for her, giving her a hug and a kiss that would undoubtedly leave pink lipstick on her face. Sure enough, Valentina swiped a thumb over Michelle’s cheek as she eased back. “You look great, honey. Love this orange color on you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” But Valentina, barely Michelle’s height with wavy black hair and a deep tan from the Florida sun, was already turning to Gabe and giving him a look up and down. “Well! You sure grew up nicely, Gabriel.”
Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god, Mom. Don’t flirt with him.”
Her dad, a quiet Italian man with an olive-toned complexion and thinning brown hair, stepped forward to give Michelle a hug. “Hi, honey,” he said. “Now what’s going on here? I didn’t understand your mother’s explanation.”
Michelle repeated the lie about reconnecting on Instagram. Her dad grumbled, “I still don’t see why you had to bring him to my house,” but otherwise, he was civil.
Until Michelle overheard him telling Gabe, “Remember what I said.”
Abuelo came over to greet them. Michelle gave him a big kiss on his lined brown cheek and a tight hug. Then, while her parents were distracted, she pulled Gabe aside. “What did my dad mean?”
Gabe ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, when I was around . . . twelve, I guess, your dad made some light threats about what would happen if I ever touched you.”
Michelle narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”
“Vague stuff, like . . .” Gabe made a menacing face and drew his finger across his throat.
“Jeez, Dad. Way to be a stereotype.” She shook her head. “Is that why you never made a move until after we graduated high school?”
“What? No. I wasn’t even thinking about any of that yet. And later . . . I didn’t think you were open to being more.”
She sighed. They’d both been so foolish then, Gabe too scared to make a move and Michelle too scared to hope.
Maybe the timing was better now. Maybe she didn’t have to be afraid of wanting more.
Valentina butted in. “You have to say hi to Abuela. She’s over there by the cake table.”
Michelle gave Gabe’s bicep a squeeze, as if to draw strength from him. “Gird your loins, buddy. Into the dragon’s den we go.”
They made their way to where Esperanza Rodriguez, clad in a yellow floral dress with lots of ruffles, held court next to a four-tiered pink-and-gold cake topped with a glittery number fifteen. Multiple family members stopped them as they went, and they had to pause to greet each one. By the time they reached her grandmother, Michelle was clinging to Gabe’s arm for dear life.
“You all right there?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“This is the worst part. Let’s get it over with.” Michelle loved her grandmother dearly, but the woman was a force to be reckoned with, and you never knew what was going to come out of her mouth.
Esperanza whooped with delight when they approached her, and Michelle released Gabe to give her grandma a hug.
“Hi, Abuela.”
“Ah, Michie!” Esperanza enfolded Michelle in her vanilla-scented embrace before saying in a loud whisper, “¡Por fin tienes un novio!”
Michelle winced, but when she pulled away, she fixed an easy smile on her face. “Yup. Finally got myself a boyfriend.”
Esperanza leaned in conspiratorially and gave Michelle’s dress strap a tug. “I told you these tetas were too good to waste.”
Michelle just smirked. “I never said they were going to waste.”
Esperanza cackled in response, then moved on to Gabe. She hugged him and made a lot of comments about how well he’d grown up, how big and strong he was, and how much he’d loved her arroz con pollo when he was a little boy.
Michelle let out a breath. Somehow, this whole thing was easier than she’d expected. And it made her sad. Because this was just for show, to keep Gabe’s gym plans secret from his dad. But it didn’t feel like acting. Everything about it felt natural.
Don’t get it twisted, girl, she scolded herself. This isn’t real.
But . . . wasn’t it?
For her, this was the realest relationship she’d ever had. She was opening up during sex, letting down her guard and accepting the vulnerability that went with it. She was talking about how she felt instead of relying on humor as a shield for her emotions.
And she knew this wasn’t just a fuck-and-run for Gabe either.
I need you, Mich.
Fuck, they had no business involving their families when they didn’t even have a handle on it.
“Has the birthday girl arrived yet?” Michelle asked her abuela.
Esperanza flicked her wrist, waving that away as if it were a ridiculous notion. “Ay no. Maybe in an hour. They’re having a hair emergency.”
The DJ switched to a Luis Fonsi song and Michelle perked up. “I love this song.”
Gabe gave her his hand. “Bueno, vamos a bailar.”
He led her to the dance floor, which was already full of people, many of whom Michelle was related to. But when Gabe put one strong, solid hand on her waist and pulled her close, everything else fell away. It was just t
he two of them and the music.
They eased into a sensual Dominican bachata with small sliding steps and swaying hips, adding double and triple steps to the footwork as the beat picked up. The height difference should’ve made it difficult, but Gabe was so light on his feet, so in control of his body, it was easy to surrender and let him lead her.
As the rhythm pulsed, Michelle flipped her hair and Gabe spun her out and back in. Holding her close against his hip, his thigh pressed between hers, their hips rocked together in time with the music, moving in perfect harmony. They threw in body rolls and hip rolls, having fun with it, but their eyes never left each other’s.
In short, they danced like they were not surrounded by her immediate family.
When the song ended and shifted into something by Taylor Swift, Michelle and Gabe came to a stop. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest.
“I’m afraid to look,” she muttered, breathing hard and sweating a little.
Gabe rubbed her back comfortingly. “Why, because everyone is staring at us?”
“If they weren’t talking about us already, they are now.”
“Am I supposed to apologize?”
“You should.” She gave him a saucy grin. “Because you’ve ruined me for all other dance partners.”
A familiar voice called her name. “Michelle?”
Michelle squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh shit.”
Caught in the act. Michelle stepped away from Gabe’s side and squared her shoulders, preparing to face the music as her cousin Jasmine wiggled her way through the crowd, with Ava in hot pursuit.
Jasmine, a TV and movie actress, was stunningly beautiful, with thick dark hair and golden brown skin. At the moment, her famous face was fixed into a disapproving glower.
“You’re welcome for letting you finish the dance,” Jasmine told Michelle, barely sparing Gabe a look. “Hi, Gabe. Welcome back. Been a while.”
Michelle sucked in a breath. “Look, Jas—”
“Don’t worry.” Jasmine put her hands up, her tone all innocence. “We’re not gonna make a scene here, but we are going to discuss this later. Trust.”
Ava blinked. “We?”
Jasmine narrowed her eyes at their taller cousin, and then her mouth dropped open. “What the hell, Ava? You knew about this?”
