by Kayla, Mia
They were all smoking, and I was holding my breath, trying not to inhale the secondhand smoke.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. Smoking contributes to eighty to ninety percent of lung cancer.” I preferred to live to see my grandkids someday.
Awkward silence filled the air, and I swallowed. “Not saying that you’re going to die of lung cancer or anything, just saying that of those who have lung cancer, most are smokers.” Now would be a good time to shut up.
Jose rubbed at his goatee and laughed. Then, he said something I did not understand to Carlos, and Juan laughed.
Carlos tipped his head. “What do you do for a living, Mason?”
“I’m in finance, head of the accounting department at our company.” I crossed my ankles and leaned against the side of the house, seeming comfortable even though I was far from it. I rested my hands on my thighs, then on the banister, and then in front of me again. Though the air was brisk, I was visibly sweating at my brow.
“Cool. I’m in finance too,” Juan said, blowing out a breath of smoke that fizzled into the air.
“Oh, really?” I lifted an eyebrow and smiled because we had something in common; we both loved numbers.
“What, do I look dumb or something to you?”
I fervently shook my head and raised a hand. “No. Not at all. I was just wondering … wondering what firm you worked for.” My voice cracked.
“Small business. Ma-and-pop grocery store down the street.” He tipped his chin, smiling.
“Well, that’s good. Do you handle the management of their accounts receivable and inventory too?”
“I do.” Juan cracked his knuckles, and I held my breath.
“That’s cool.” I could do this. I could talk finance all night long.
But right when my posture relaxed, Carlos spoke up, his tone hard and menacing, “How did you meet Gabby?”
The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “She thought I was a pedophile.” Then, I slapped my head. Did I just say that?
They visibly frowned, and one by one, they flicked their cigarettes to the side.
“I mean, she’s my niece’s teacher.” When they didn’t give any reaction, I continued telling them the whole story but not before sweat began to form on my brow again. “I followed my niece because it was her first date—” I shook my head. “I mean, I thought that she was on a date, but really, she was going out with friends. Though I still think it was a date, but she’s told me otherwise, so I’ll take her for her word.”
Still no reaction, their faces etched in stone.
I swallowed. “So, Gabby called the cops on me and my niece wouldn’t talk to me and I was livid …”
Carlos raised a hand. “So, wait. You followed your niece to the mall because she was on a date?”
“Yeah.”
“What did Gabby think of that?” Juan snorted.
“She called the cops on me.” My whole body stiffened, my muscles tight as though I’d lifted weights for hours.
Finally, the men’s shoulders shook with laughter, and I let out one long, awkward laugh.
“Right? Is she always that extreme?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I already knew it was stupid, and I felt like I’d put my foot in my mouth. Again.
“All Cruz women are crazy, and all Cruz men are protective over the women in the family,” Carlos stated, the smile from earlier disappearing from his face.
It was a warning, a threat. I knew that much.
Gabby peeked out from the back door. “Come in. Christina is going to play her recital piece.”
She searched my face for any signs of distress, but I tried to fake a smile.
“We’ll be inside in a minute,” Carlos said, unfazed.
“So, you like our cousin, huh?” Juan asked, no pretense, tone serious.
All eyes were fixed on me, and all I had for them was the truth. “Like her? No. I love her.”
Three long seconds passed before Carlos nodded. I didn’t know if he believed me or thought I was bullshitting.
He shrugged. “I mean … how can you not love her?”
Juan added something in Spanish, and they laughed.
“Are you married?” Jose asked.
“No.”
“Do you have any kids?” Juan added.
“Not yet.” Hopefully, someday, with her.
Gabby peeked her head out a second time. “Get in the house. Abuela is tired of waiting.”
They exchanged words, and Gabby raised her voice, to which Carlos nodded.
“Si. Nos vamos,” he added, whatever that meant.
Then, he pointed back to the house, and she disappeared inside.
“You going to church with Abuela this Sunday? We don’t like it when people lie to her.” Jose pushed himself from the side of the house and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt where more tattoos were displayed.
“I said I’m going, so I’m going.” There was no way I’d go back on my word, not now when I was aiming to win an in with her abuela.
“Gabby goes to church every Sunday. You going to start going now too?”
Should I tell them now that Gabby doesn’t go every Sunday? “Yeah, if she wants me to go.”
They laughed.
“Gringo loco.”
Crazy white man. I understood that much. Couldn’t deny that they were right either.
“What can I say? I’m a changed man,” I added.
Juan opened the door and stepped inside, followed by Jose.
Carlos trailed behind me. “Ever been to jail?” he said close to my ear.
I cleared my throat, hating that my perfect record was ruined. “Once,” I ground out. “When I beat up Mike.”
They all stopped mid-step to turn and look at me.
“Mike?” Juan’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.
It was the first time I’d shocked any of them.
“Yeah, Gabby’s ex. He was disrespecting her at the grocery store, and I punched him. Multiple times.”
After a beat, they let out a roar of laughter. Jose and Juan patted my back and then continued inside.
Carlos slipped an arm over my shoulders. “I like you, blanco loco. I think you and Gabby are a good fit.”
I smiled, genuinely this time because punching Mike, going to jail, and ruining my pristine record hadn’t all been in vain. I’d do it all over again to win over the cousins.
He squeezed my shoulder a little harder than I liked, but hell, I’d take it.
They liked me, and even better, they liked me for Gabby.
Mission accomplished.
Chapter 24
Gabby
The salsa music blasted in the background on his fancy, state-of-the-art sound system. My papers were laid out in front of me on Mason’s kitchen table. This had been our typical Friday night, it seemed, over the last month, and it was beyond glorious.
“One, two … step?” Mason moved his feet just like I’d shown him. A deep line creased at his brow, and his mouth was downturned in a visible frown. “Gabby, like this?”
He repeated the motion again, and it took all my energy to not laugh out loud.
“Yes, baby. You’re doing so well.”
Mason was the best boyfriend, but he would always be the worst dancer. I didn’t know how long he’d been practicing, hours by now, but his form and his posture and his steps were all still wrong. I’d tried to help him, but an hour in, I’d decided I’d smile and kiss him to placate him because knowing his personality, he would never relent until he’d perfected every step of the salsa.
He’d want to be the best, but what he didn’t know was that dancing was a gift, a God-given talent. Like someone who could sing, you were born with it, or you weren’t. Yes, it could be learned, but it was not the same as having raw, natural talent.
“I think I’m getting it.” He smiled, the first smile that broke through his serious concentration.
Then, in the back step, he tripped on his own two feet.
> He peered up, eyes wide, watching me to see if I’d caught him. I tapped my pencil against the table and ducked my head into the papers I was grading.
“You saw that, didn’t you?” he said, sounding disappointed.
“Hmm?” I lifted my head, forcing an inquisitive look to the surface. “Saw what?”
He inched closer, pointed, and squinted. “You did catch that.” He rested a hip on the table and poked at my side. “I’m bad. You can tell me.”
“No …” How could I tell him he was the worst dancer I’d ever dated without hurting his feelings? “Come here.” I pulled him close and pressed my lips against his. “You’re not the best dancer, but you are the best kisser.”
He sighed and pulled me up from my chair, wrapping his arms around my waist. “How are we ever going to go salsa dancing if I don’t learn?”
“I can go with my girlfriends.” Because hell if I’d give up dancing. Dancing was embedded in me; it was in my bones.
“And have other guys dance with my girl?” He shook his head. “Not happening.” He walked over to his sound system and pressed a button. John Legend’s “All of Me” filled the room, and he grinned and beckoned me over with two fingers. “Get over here, sexy.”
I extended my hand, and he twirled me and dipped me before bringing me close. My heart filled with warmth at his nearness. My hand wrapped around his waist, the other hand went to his chest, and I breathed him in, the clean scent of his detergent and the masculine scent of his aftershave.
His lips kissed my temple. “Now, this I can dance to.”
With those words and the soft, soulful voice of John Legend, my heart melted, and I closed my eyes and basked in the embrace of my boyfriend.
Mason
We listened to the voice of John Legend playing loudly in the background, drowning out any thoughts of salsa dancing and all the noise of the world. In this moment, there was just me and Gabby, eyes closed, moving slowly to the song that I swore was meant for her.
When John talked about a woman with a smart mouth, drawing him in, I related in more ways than one. He talked about giving this woman all of himself. In the past, I’d fallen in love but never this fast, never this hard, and never this furiously, to the point where it felt out of control, unpredictable. I couldn’t predict what would happen next. Every day with Gabby was better than the last. I loved having her in my condo, waking up to her when she slept over, cooking for her, and watching her do mundane things like grading papers and working on lesson plans.
All I wanted to do was hold her close forever because I never knew when the next moment would be our last. When I thought of my parents, the intenseness of their love reminded me of Gabby and me. Part of me was scared shitless for our moments to end. I knew the fear came from losing my parents because their love for each other and for us had been cut short.
As we swayed to the slow song, I was brought back to many years ago when my parents had entered into the room where my brothers and I were playing a video game. I was probably no more than seventeen. My father twirled my mother around, floating through our living room as though his feet were magic. My mother’s laughter carried throughout the room. Brad had complained and told my parents that he couldn’t see the TV, but I remembered I hadn’t cared that I couldn’t see the screen. Their grins, their love, how they touched each other pushed to the surface. Not only were they over-the-top cheese, but they were so in love that you couldn’t help but smile.
That was what they had—an undying love. Until the very end. And that was what I wanted for myself, and I saw myself having that with Gabby.
The music stopped, but our bodies moved in sync, her chest against mine, our breaths slow and even. I pressed my forehead against hers, and her eyes opened. Her breath caught, but mine deepened. My fingers cupped her cheek, moving back to her neck, bringing her closer until I pressed my mouth against hers.
Our kisses were soft and sweet one minute and scorching hot the next. They were the type of kisses that made me want more of her, to keep her close and never want to let her go.
I grabbed her ass and lifted her in my arms as she wrapped her legs around my waist.
I walked us into the room and gently laid her on the bed, never breaking contact. After peeling off her clothing one by one, I covered her with my body and worshiped her with my lips.
I moved above her, inside her, and made love to the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on.
What remained after multiple orgasms was our uneven breaths and racing hearts. As she laid her head on my chest, my fingertips went to draw light circles on the small of her back. I wrote the words only meant for her, using her body as a canvas, writing my love letter to her in swirls of lettering. She didn’t notice, and that was okay.
When she lifted her chin and rested her hand on my chest, peering deeply into my eyes, I lightly poked her nose.
“What are you thinking?”
“Just how everything is so perfect. I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” Her voice trembled with a vulnerability that I knew had been caused by her past, by the wounds inflicted by her father and Mike.
I brought her closer; we were a millimeter apart. “It’s not. Accept it. Me and you and this perfect life we have.” And are going to have, I wanted to add.
A sweet smile tugged at her lips, and she gently kissed me. “I love you, Mason.”
It was the first time she’d said it without me feeling like I’d prompted her to say it. I responded by kissing her deeply, passionately until all I felt was her around me. I flipped her to her back and made love to the woman of my dreams for the second time.
* * *
A few nights later, after having dinner with Gabby’s family, I was walking into my building when a voice had my body tensing.
“Mason.”
I froze and released a heavy sigh. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—Janice. I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. I was on an ultimate high, just seeing Gabby and kissing her good-bye right before I headed home.
Why this? What now? What does this woman not understand?
I couldn’t play nice guy anymore. That tactic was obviously not working.
I was done. No more back and forth.
“Janice, I don’t have time. I have to head in.”
My keys jingled in my hand as I continued to my building, not turning back to look at her. How many times did we do this? Too many times to count—that was for sure.
“Mason … I just need to talk to you.” Her voice broke with heavy, sullen emotion.
“Janice …” But there was so much disdain in my voice, so much tiredness in my tone, and the saddest part about it was, there was no guilt attached this time. There’d been so much guilt before, but I was done with that. It wasn’t my job to console her or help her get over me. I didn’t want to be cruel, but I was done with this cycle. “Janice, have a good night.” My hand was on the door when her words stopped me cold.
“Mason … I’m pregnant.”
My pulse pounded hard in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. It was all I could hear, above the cars swishing past us, above conversations of people walking by. The loud thud was deafening, and for a moment, a tiny moment, I couldn’t breathe. I exhaled slowly and tilted my head to the open night sky, taking in the tall buildings and skyscrapers that caged us in on all sides.
My stomach rolled. She’s kidding. I finally turned around because if there was one thing I could do, it was read Janice.
And one look in her eyes, I knew in my gut that she wasn’t lying. Her eyes were raw, red, probably from crying. She cradled her stomach as though she was trying to keep it together or maybe shielding the baby inside.
How could this be? How did this happen?
I did the math in my head. We’d broken up months ago, but yeah … we’d had sex within the last three months.
Fuck …
I could hear and feel every small breath that left my body. I stared at her, not knowing w
hat to do, not knowing what to say.
At one time, I would’ve been ecstatic. But now, an overwhelming dread draped over me, choking me, keeping me from saying anything.
“It’s not easy … to come here …” Her voice trembled, and her eyes dropped to the ground as she sucked on her bottom lip.
She dug the toe of her Louboutin ballet flat into the sidewalk, the ones I’d gotten for her when we went to London. We’d walked all through the city, and she’d done so in heels, in typical Janice fashion, until I’d forced her into a store and bought her the flats. That seemed like ages ago, in the height of our relationship.
Now, we were over. And, shit, what now?
I gritted my teeth and ran both hands through my hair, trying not to panic, but I sure as hell was panicking. I’d done this. I hated how I’d put myself in this position. Now that I was fully involved with Gabby, of course this would happen. I should’ve known things were too good to be true.
For the next few seconds, I studied her and tried to believe she was lying, but in my gut, I knew she wasn’t. Janice didn’t lie. She was honest, even when the truth hurt, even when she had known it’d hurt me to tell me she never wanted kids. Now, here we were, ironic as it was, her pregnant with my child.
“I’ve known for a few weeks,” she said sadly. “And it has taken me a while to come here. I know you don’t want me anymore, Mason.” Her chin trembled and she twisted her hands in front of her. “But I had to tell you.”
A deep sob escaped her, and I wished I could hate her for pushing herself on me when I’d told her time and time again that it was over.
But I couldn’t because that wasn’t fair. Each and every time she’d begged me back and thrown herself on me, I’d had a choice, and each and every time, I’d taken the bait.
I took a step toward her because Janice hardly showed vulnerability, and here she was, in her rawest form. Her shoulders shook from her sobs as she cradled her face in her hands.
“You know I’m not into children. Could’ve done without them. But, Mason, I’m not going to abort this baby. Even if you don’t want me. It’s just not in me.”