Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology

by Morgan, Nicole

  That was the beginning of our friendship. At lunch time she dragged me over to her table and introduced me to her friends. Freshman and sophomore year, she dated some guys. I went out with some girls, always thinking Kitty wasn’t interested in average-looking me.

  One day at lunch she said she’d purchased tickets for junior prom. I’d never bothered going to dances. Then she asked me if I wanted to go. With her? I accepted.

  That’s how ‘we’ began.

  A loud, male voice rips me out of the past. “Catalina, where do I sit?”

  Emilio is beside me, glaring at me.

  Kitty stands. “Hey. This table is for the bridal party. You're at table 5. They have numbers next to the candles in the center.” When she tries to sit back down, he whacks me in the back of the head in a rush to grab her arm.

  I jump to my feet and knock his hand off her. “What the hell, dude.”

  Surprised for a second, his arm dangles at his side. He regains his cool composure in seconds. “Hey, flaco, when you become part of the bridal group?”

  Despite the DJ playing tunes, the volume is low enough that all attention shifts to our table.

  I don’t care. “First off, who you calling skinny? What is this, elementary school all over again?” I’ve got at least three inches on the dude.

  “She’s my girl. No one sits next to her except for me.” He tries to flex his muscles, but he’s not the only one who’s been working out.

  I take a step forward. “She was never yours, man. She isn’t property.” A soft hand grasps mine, and I calm down.

  “Emilio, Devlin was nice enough to step in for Sal,” Kitty assures him. “And are you sure we’re going out? I ran into Yvonne in the ladies’ room. She was fixing her scarf, trying to cover up the four hickies on her neck. See, I know she didn’t have them the night she was at my house. You drove her home.”

  “Busted,” Zoe says.

  He swallows, visibly searching the room for Yvonne. Everyone does. We spot her carrying two plates as she leaves the buffet. When she notices us, her mouth flops open. Kitty crooks her finger at her. She presses her lips together and comes over.

  Yvonne has on a gold chiffon scarf. When she reaches us, she purposefully goes over to Emilio and hands him a plate. "Here, baby. I guess they know."

  His dark eyes blaze. “So, you back. I’ll let Ricky know.”

  It’s my turn to glare. “He’s already seen me. But you can give him a message for me. Tell him I'm not keeping quiet about that night anymore. Because of him, I lost Kitty, but now I’m back—for her, my love." Kitty rubs my hand before tugging me onto my chair.

  Yvonne nudges Emilio to move and his brows furrow. “What’s his cat got to do with this?” he says, walking away.

  The DJ takes the opportunity to increase the volume on the music and invites the lovebirds to the dance floor. When Dulce and Dwight join hands and begin to move, everyone settles back into a party mood.

  “You are loco,” Kitty whispers, her hand squeezes my thigh. A shiver rumbles down my spine, straight to the spot that doesn't need awakening now. “Thank you.”

  “For what? You announced his cheating. I’m not taking it anymore.” I turn, and she's so close again.

  “Well, mi caballero, you stood up to him. We did it together. I like that you called me ‘your love.’” Her eyes sparkle under those thick lashes. Red lips spread into a smile. All I want is to feel them on mine again. When her lids droop, and she sighs, I wonder if she's thinking of our kiss in the closet.

  “It’s true. You are my love. Did you just call me your knight?” Some of my high school Spanish is rusty.

  “Yes. Let’s dance before we have to start the games.” She takes my hand, and like a loyal knight, I follow.

  8

  Catalina

  After the shower, I know what to do. I must have a serious talk with Devlin.

  I need to know what went down, what he and Ricky did before I can even think about forgiveness. Still, I know Dev loves me. It’s obvious in everything he does.

  The same young man who took my heart and carved his initials into it, is living in my Abuela's house. Every time he's near I can't help remembering that kiss in the school closet. I get a whiff of his cologne, hear his voice, or he touches me, and I’m on Devlin overload.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  I finish wrapping the last present and slide it over to Abuela. I’ve spent two hours putting gifts into bags or covering them in pretty paper. The dining room looks like a crafts fair was held here. Abuela applies the last gift tag on it and deposits it into the appropriate shopping bag. There are six bags labeled with the names of a family or friend. “You ready to go to your Tìa Sofia’s house tonight?”

  “Nochebuena. My favorite night.” I stand and stretch. “We'll sit down to a lovely dinner, chat, open presents, and go to Midnight Mass. It doesn't get any more perfect than that.”

  Dev finishes applying a ribbon to a box for one of Sophia’s kids. “Does that mean I get to drink coquito?”

  He’s incredibly handsome tonight. Black trousers and a cream-colored sweater. “Yes, and your other favorite, lechon asado.”

  With that, he smacks his lips. “Did your uncle cook the pork on a spit?”

  Abuela laughs, holding her belly. “He remembers our food, doesn’t he?”

  "Yes,” I snort. “He does."

  Dev looks at me and we both giggle.

  “I forgot something downstairs. Be right back.” We watch him walk away. Abuela takes my hand into her arthritic one. Her index finger is bent at a strange angle. “I left your gift on your bed. Don’t open it until Christmas morning, okay?” She seems so serious.

  “Sure.”

  “Mi niña, I’m glad he came back into your life. I once had my doubts. His is a true love. When he looks at you, I get gooseflesh.” Now she sounds like a young girl.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Your grandfather used to look at me the same way. Completa adoracíon.”

  Complete adoration. Oh, goosebumps break out across my arms. “That’s heavy.”

  Abuela rubs my arms. “¡Mira! That’s what I’m talking about.” Her eyes crinkle with delight.

  I kiss her cheek. “Te amo abuela.”

  Her eyes water and she returns the kiss. “Te amo completamente.”

  Dev stands in the doorway, his jacket in his hands. “Are we ready?”

  Abuela answers. “Sí.” I help her up and Dev holds her coat open.

  After she buttons herself up, I hand her the cane. “Are you sure you want to walk over?”

  She thinks it over and then taps my wrist. “You know, let’s take the car. It’s a late night.”

  Dev offers her his arm. “You’re right Abuela.” They begin to leave the room and he looks back at me. “I’ll help you clean up later.” He winks.

  I turn into a puddle. We lost three years of not being together. I don’t want to lose another minute. Life can change with a heartbeat. That’s a hard lesson I learned when I lost my parents. Going around the room, I quickly toss away scraps and empty tape dispensers. The paper rolls are recycled. Good wrapping paper gets folded and put into the wrapping station, along with tags and ribbons.

  Dev enters, searching for me. “Hey, I would’ve—”

  As soon as he’s close I kiss him for a few seconds and let go.

  He swallows hard. “Everything all right?”

  Oh, how he knows me. “Yeah, it is now that you’re here.”

  He blinks a couple of times. “What are you doing, Kitty? Trying to make me cry?” He places a kiss on my forehead. “My beautiful girl.”

  Before we get sappy, I lure him out of the room and turn off the light. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  An hour later we’re seated at Tìa Sophia’s dining room table and kid’s table. There’s twenty-four of us, including distant cousins and close friends. My aunt and uncle live in a gorgeous townhouse-styled one family house. The windows on
one side have views of the Van Cortlandt Park stables. The front faces a lovely tree-lined side street. Their house was completely renovated two years ago and I adore it.

  Everything is modern and bright. White walls and earth-colored wood floors. Even with three young kids, the place is spotless. Sophia’s an interior designer and Tío Mateo owns a chain of car washes. We’re seated on the main level of three. This is an open-floor plan and it feels like one huge inviting space.

  After we eat, the kids race down the stairs to the common room on the ground level. I hear a movie playing. The adults remain here, except we move over to the three sofas in front of the large fireplace to chat.

  Dev’s been quiet throughout the meal. When Tìo Mateo starts talking about business, my eyes glaze over. I nudge Dev. “Let’s get some coquito.” Abuela is deep in conversation with Sophia. No one notices us get up.

  I fill two wine goblets with the coconut drink, hand him one, and clink mine against his. “Enjoy your Puerto Rican eggnog.”

  He laughs and sips. I slip my arm around his and guide him towards the sunroom behind us. This room has a three-quarter wall for privacy and faces the backyard. I stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the stone patio immersed in the bright light of a full moon.

  “You haven’t stopped smiling since we got here.” He stands next to me.

  His aftershave wafts overhead, bringing with it the slight scent of spice and musk. “I love this house. It doesn’t feel like we’re in the city.” I take a drink.

  Dev is quiet for a while before he says, “Would you like to get out of the city?”

  His question surprises me. I reach over and take our coats off the rack. The patio also leads to the driveway, so this space doubles as a mudroom. When I used to babysit my cousins, I would enter and leave this way if I drove. "C'mon, let's get some air."

  We knock back our drinks and leave the glasses on a side table. He yanks on his jacket and holds mine open. Once outside, we go up the staircase to the patio. The evening is mild so I remove the cover from the wicker loveseat and we sit. Even with the light pollution, the visible stars I see are a thrill.

  "Still a stargazer?" Dev wraps an arm around me.

  “Yeah.” I lean into him, resting the side of my face against him. The pose, so casual, says a lot about us. People who trust each other. “A dream of mine is to have a small farm somewhere upstate. You’re the first I’ve shared it with.”

  “A farm, huh?” he says, breathlessly.

  “Cold?” I rub his hands.

  “No. I’m surprised, that’s all. I figured you'd always be a city girl. Why a farm?” He draws me closer to him, despite his denying being cold.

  “Okay, since I'm going to put myself out there and be honest, I'm telling you everything. Don’t laugh.”

  He chuckles. “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

  Dev was never a Boy Scout. I swat his leg. “I'd love to have some horses, a couple of goats, and maybe an alpaca or llama.”

  He doesn't laugh. What he does is get up to pull a wicker chair over to face me. Under the moonlight, his features appear lighter, as if he's lost that extra weight he'd been carrying around. Or maybe the better word is burden. He clutches my hands. “I need to tell you about that night.”

  Something has changed in him. I go with it because I trust him. I also need to hear what he has to say. “Okay.”

  Dev sucks in a long breath and releases it. “The day of our prom, everything was going great. I had my suit, shoes, everything. Then Gran asked me to get milk. She was tired and wanted a cup of tea after work. We’d run out. I went to the store. On the way back, I ran into Ricky. He was upset about some girl he liked and had asked out. She refused him."

  “He said that?” A knot begins to form inside my gut.

  “Yeah. He let off steam. I listened, trying to be nice. He had some sodas in a bag and offered me one. I took it. I had time to kill and he was actually being nice to me. As we’re walking by the community center, he mentions he left something in a classroom.”

  Dev’s facing me but I can see he’s reliving that day. “Ricky volunteer in high school. He used to go there as a kid, like you did,” I add.

  “Huh.” He bites his lip, and I'm fixated on the movement thinking about that kiss. “He tells me to wait, that he uses another entrance. I don’t care. I sit on the stone wall and down the soda. Check my messages. Then I start to feel sick. Nauseous. My heart’s racing.”

  I don’t like where this is going.

  His fingers comb through his hair. “It happened so fast, like I was standing outside my body. Ricky tossed the milk and sodas into a garbage can and yanked me inside, up to the second floor. I collapsed, couldn’t move. The dude proceeds to break chairs, toss computers, ransack.”

  His hands shake and I take hold of them, caressing his skin in an attempt to soothe some small part of him while he relives this nightmare.

  “Lights flash. We hear noises downstairs. I ask him what’s going on, what did he do to me? Ricky laughs. He grabs me around the neck and whispers ‘yu cahaver.’ I don’t know what that means.”

  “What language is that?”

  Dev shrugs and rubs his temple. “He punched me real hard. I must’ve passed out.”

  “Oh, Devlin.” I go to reach for him but he sags back and stares up at the sky.

  “When I wake up, I’m handcuffed to a hospital bed. Gran and Annie are crying. They tell me I have a concussion, contusions, a broken ankle, and I’d re-injured my healing elbow. I undid what the surgery had repaired.”

  “How?” I gasp.

  He swallows hard. “I think the drug made me crazed. A cop said I resisted arrest and began flailing around, fighting them. I fell down a flight of stairs and knocked myself out.”

  I gulp. “That’s why you didn’t call anyone. You couldn’t.” It makes sense now.

  Dev shakes his head. “Kitty, I was so stupid to talk to him that day. Because of Ricky’s sick game, he ruined the remainder of my senior year and I lost three years of my life. I was eighteen. The authorities wanted to charge me with breaking and entering, vandalism... Gran couldn’t bail me out. I made her promise not to tell anyone.” Tears slide down his face.

  My heart breaks for him. What he must've gone through. Alone. Ashamed. Scared.

  “One cop interviewed me, Officer Martin He said things in my case didn’t add up.” Dev kneels before me, resting his head on my lap. “Those were the darkest days of life.”

  “I wish I could’ve helped you.” I stroke the sides of his face, feel him tremble.

  “My blood had traces of PCP. I don’t do drugs. That cop believed me. He helped me. Gran told me I had an alternative to jail—a new rehabilitation program upstate. On a farm. I accepted. The morning I was scheduled to leave, I sat down and wrote two letters: one to you, explaining everything and asking you to wait for me. The other addressed to your parents, an apology. I gave them both to Gran.”

  “Letter? I never received—” My mind races back that weird day. “I used to help out Abuela by doing housework. One time, I overheard her and my mom arguing. Abuela kept telling Mom she was “wrong.” That “they” deserved to know. I never mentioned it.” Another puzzle piece drops in place.

  “They were talking about us, Kitty. Gran hand delivered the notes to your mother.”

  I don’t want to believe it. “My mom knew everything? How could she keep that from me? She knew how heartbroken I was.” I grasp his arm. “She was so old-fashioned, wanted me to marry someone ‘like us,’ even though I told her I would marry for love.”

  “I went to that farm. As my elbow and ankle healed, I sat in on classes about substance abuse and talked to a counselor. When I was well, I had chores, followed a schedule. There were other kids there for different reasons. Each seemed to be healing from something, like me.”

  “Did you make any friends?”

  He sits beside me and takes hold of my hand. “No. Everyone kept to themselves. We stayed on the pro
perty. The farm was self-sustaining. We ate what we grew, sold the excess, and bartered for whatever goods or services were needed.”

  The cold seeps through my coat and clothes. I shiver, catching his attention. He stands, extends an arm to me. When I get to my feet, I slip on a rock and stumble against him, straight into his arms. He takes advantage of our position. “It’s a lot to take in and believe. Maybe you can one day forgive me, Kitty. I never meant to hurt you the way I must have.”

  I can’t tear myself away now, propelled to stare at the intensity in his eyes. That was one of the reasons I used to break curfew. Leaving Dev was hard. “I already do. What happened was not your fault, Dev. My mom decided not to give your letter to me. Ricky decided to be a psychotic bastard to you.”

  He plays with the lace overlay of my green top. “You’re always so beautiful. Every day began with a thought of you and every night ended the same way. Gran and Annie never mentioned seeing you. I figured you gave up on me. When I was released, I came back to help my family.”

  I listen to the sadness in his voice, trying to pick up a hint of any hope he had about me. “Dev, you didn’t want to try and see me when you returned?”

  His laugh is bitter, utterly heartbreaking. “I figured you went on with your life, went away to school, had another boyfriend, were getting good grades. You forgot about me.”

  His words cut into me. Our lives had been changed, scarred because of other people. “I could never forget you or what we had. How could you believe that? What do I need to do to prove how much you mean to me?” While I express myself, I’m gripping the front of his jacket and pushing him backwards until there’s no place left to go. He stops moving when he’s backed up against the rock wall.

  I’ve become a blubbery mess. Too many emotions battle for control. I shove them all down, except for the most important one, the only one that matters. “Devlin Fitzgerald, even when I tried to forget you, I couldn’t forget my love for you.” My voice cracks. I don’t have the energy to talk. Instead, I yank on his jacket hard enough to pull him down towards me.