by Webster, K.
“We have a baby boy,” Rosita tells Araceli, and everyone cheers. “Are you naming him after Marco?”
“Fuck no,” Araceli snaps. “His name is Rodrigo Dale Ramirez.”
It’s official.
I’ve fallen in love with every single one of these obnoxiously endearing people.
And I don’t know what to do about it.
Camilo
The kid is cute as hell. It’s a good thing he took after Araceli and not Marco’s ugly mug. It’s been hours since she safely delivered him, and all seems to be calming down. The horrible winds have died and now all we hear is rain. Which means in another day or so, it’ll be time to get back to work.
My stomach clenches.
Going back to work means leaving. Again. This time, I’m leaving her.
I scan the crowd of people who have migrated back to the restaurant dining room where Eduardo has been making them eat things from the fridge so it won’t go to waste. Sheridan is sitting beside Damian, her head leaned against his shoulder as she yawns.
God, the things I want to do to that mouth.
She catches me staring and smirks, somehow reading my mind. The devious glint in her stare tells me she’d be down for it.
If we ever get the chance.
Fuck.
A sense of dread washes over me. I don’t like this feeling. I don’t get attached to girls. Not like this. Not so quick. Not in a way that feels irreversible. I’m the guy who fucks and runs. Or flies in my case. City after city, I find someone to warm my bed, but never my heart. Sheridan would catch both on fire. The thought of seeing her in my bed is enough to get my dick hard.
I need to do something.
I’m going stir-crazy.
She gets up and walks off. I watch her ass in her jeans the entire way. Because of our circumstance, I’ve yet to properly appreciate her body. I crave to strip her down, throw her into my bed, and lick every inch of her with the bright overhead lights shining on every freckle on her body. My dick is embarrassingly hard now.
“Try to keep the roaring and moaning to a dull roar,” Carter says, chewing over a mouthful of food. “Last time, everyone heard everything. Some of us are trying to eat.”
I roll my eyes as I prowl off after her. I hear her voice in Eduardo’s office and smile. Time for round two. Before I step inside, I pause.
“I’m safe, Daddy. I think it’s passed over.” She chuckles. “You sound like you’ve been drinking.” A pause. “Is Mona okay postponing the wedding? Oh, good. I miss her too.” She laughs. “I do. I miss all of you.” Another pause. “Yeah, of course David too.”
Sourness roils in my gut.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Sure.” A pause. “Hi, David.” Another pause. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” A giggle, girlish and flirty.
Fuck this.
I storm back down the hallway, and into the restaurant. Carter sees my expression and abandons his plate to follow me over to the doors.
“We’re checking out the damage now that the worst is over,” I call out, uncaring if anyone is listening.
We push outside and are met with a cold spray of rain. It feels good after being stuck in Eddie’s with what feels like a million other people. I scrub my palm over my face and squint against the rain.
“Want to talk about it?” Carter asks, raising his voice over the wind.
“Nah, just me being a pussy and thinking for once with my head and not my dick.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Carter says. “Your dick gets enough airtime.”
My dick doesn’t get hurt. My dick fucking plays.
“Holy shit,” Carter exclaims. “You’re really upset. What happened?”
“Just heard her talking to him. David. The one she thinks she’s going to run off into the sunset with the moment she gets to Costa Rica.”
“And you care because…”
I glower at him. “I don’t.”
“Liar. She’s gotten to you. You going to let this fucker steal your girl?”
“She’s not mine,” I snap. “I’ve known her for three days, Tripp. Three. You can’t fall in love in three days.”
His eyes twinkle. “Nah, you’re right. Three is overkill. Usually it only takes one.”
“Fuck off,” I grunt, storming through the heavy puddles toward the hotel.
He splashes after me, staying quiet for once. When we arrive at the hotel, I curse. A portion of the roof is completely gone. I knew this place was getting worse and worse. Mamá wasn’t bringing in many new visitors, so she didn’t have money for repairs. This is going to kill her.
“Oh boy,” Carter groans. “This fucking sucks.”
“Yep. Let’s see what else got hit.”
The front office is fine aside from a huge crack in the glass door. Several trees have fallen on the property. Abuela’s spa is safe aside from standing in about six inches of water. All the villas are okay since they’re newer. Eddy’s remains unscathed.
It could have been worse, but it definitely could have been better too.
“Mijo!” Mamá calls out from Eddy’s open doorway. “What is the damage?”
Sheridan stands beside her frowning. “Is everything okay?”
I’m soaked and pissed and hurt for a multitude of reasons.
“No, Sher, everything is not okay,” I snarl, unfairly pointing my venom her way. “Mamá’s shithole is even shittier now thanks to Rodrigo. The damages are going to be ridiculously expensive. I bet you can’t wait to get the fuck out of here so you can get back to David.”
Mamá walks up to me and smacks me. “¡Suficiente!” Enough.
I glower at her. “It’s the truth. This place is a mess.”
“And so are you,” Mamá hisses. “Get yourself together.”
Sheridan swallows hard and then turns to walk back inside without another word, which is unlike her. She’s feisty and stings like a bee. Where’s her fight?
“You’re just going to walk away?” I call out. “Just like that?”
She looks over her shoulder, hurt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah. Just like that.”
“Over there, CZ,” Carter barks out as he points to yet another limb littering the airstrip.
After my meltdown earlier today, Carter, Alejandro, Nicolás, Mateo, and I all left to assess the damages at the airstrip. Toro came along for the ride and hasn’t been doing shit except running full speed through the deep puddles.
The place is a mess with debris, but the hangar is safe and so is the plane. Carter spent a good hour on the phone with the powers that be, reorganizing the flight schedule. As soon as we get this place cleaned up and we get the all-clear to fly, we’ll be out of here and on our way to our original destination. Costa Rica. To David.
“Quite an arm on you,” one of my stupid cousins calls out. “You should join the NFL.”
I shoot him the bird and pick up another limb to heave off the airstrip. Throwing sticks and tree limbs is satisfying and doing wonders to calm my rage. Why am I so pissed over a one-night stand? That’s all she was. We fucked. No big deal. I’m acting like she broke my goddamn heart.
The heart in question clenches painfully in my chest.
I need to get the hell out of Tahueca and back into the sky. At least up there, I can quiet my thoughts and breathe. Right now, I feel as though I’m suffocating.
We work for hours straight. The guys take a break to raid the breakroom in the hangar. Carter and I sit on a bench out front, staring out at the cleared airstrip as the rain continues to pelt us.
“So?”
“So what?” I grunt.
“We going to talk about it?”
“And have you give me some ‘romantic comedy bullshit remedy’? Nah, I’m good.”
“God, you’re such a little bitch when your feelings are hurt. I’m being serious. You’re upset and we should talk about it.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Want to know the truth?”
He gives me an exasperat
ed look. “Obviously.”
“I feel attached to her. She’s been nothing but a challenge I wanted to conquer. But somewhere along the way, I feel like I cracked her open and saw inside. I fucking liked everything she was hiding from the world. I wanted to see more.” I swipe the rain off my face with my palm. “She’s been nothing but upfront. She wants to get to her dad’s wedding and she’s been actively pursuing some guy who doesn’t deserve her. I thought…I don’t know what I thought or expected, but knowing she’s going back to him to continue her pursuit doesn’t sit well with me. Sher deserves to be pursued, not the other way around. He’s a dick for not realizing he’s had a good thing all along.”
Carter nods and leans forward, resting his elbows on his soaked jean-covered knees. “And you want to be the guy who pursues her?”
“Fuck yeah. I mean, no. It’s pointless. I have my job and she has her life. It’ll be like it was with Mamá. I’ll never be home and she’ll be lonely. I know how these things go.”
“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Asshole.”
He laughs. “Listen, I get it. I do. My story doesn’t differ too much from yours aside from the fact that I’m hotter. But I have to leave my family all the time. It’s the nature of my job. My wife knows what she married into and we make it work. Just because I fly planes for a living doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a family or love or happiness. Same goes for you, CZ. You’re allowed these things.”
“She has David,” I state bitterly.
“She could have you. But that would mean accepting some things you’re not ready to accept. Like the fact that love could happen in one day or three. That it’s not the wildest and craziest thing to happen out there. Sometimes, it just happens because it’s right.”
“I’m not in love with her.” I’m something with her, though.
“Fine. Be stubborn and blind. But at least admit that you could fall in love with her given the time. Am I right?”
I nod. “I guess, though I haven’t ever been in love, so I wouldn’t recognize it even if it smacked me right in the face.”
He sighs and gives me a sad look. “Sometimes it’s less subtle than that. It’s seeing it walk away for you to realize what you had. I just hate watching you make the same mistakes as I did.”
“Okay, Dad,” I bite out.
“All I’m saying is you need to open your eyes and your heart to the possibility that you really, really like Sheridan and that she might be worth changing your dumbass ways for.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Because it is, CZ.”
“Sheridan isn’t Kendall. She’s…” Bitchier. Frostier. Harder. So much more. More beautiful. More sweet. More sexy. More everything.
“What’s the worst that could happen if you told her how you feel?” he asks. “She’ll tell you it was a fun ride, but Prince David awaits. At least then, you tried.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is.”
“You’re fucking impossible, man.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Now if only we could get you to readily admit that to Sherrie. Grand gestures always work in the movies.”
“My life is not a movie,” I grunt.
“Could be…”
“Don’t give Damian any ideas. I dread what sort of videos he’s already made.”
“I bet there’s an entire compilation series of your ass.”
“Now that’d be a great movie.” I smirk. “Camilo’s Ass, coming to a theater near you.”
“I’d rather watch Frozen 2.” He rolls his eyes.
“Kendall will be in theater sixty-nine watching Camilo’s Ass.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“Camilo’s Dick is the sequel,” I tease, winking at him.
“Hopefully it’ll go to IMAX so everyone can see it.”
“Asshole,” I say with a laugh.
“Takes one to know one.”
We both grow silent and I sigh.
“I need to apologize to her.”
“Grand gestures get the girl,” he offers.
“What could be grander than my winning personality?”
“I’ll be praying for you, because with that dumbass attitude, there’s no way you can win the girl.” He shakes his head. “Let’s get out of here. I’m ready to watch this train wreck.”
Sheridan
He’s an asshole.
Most guys are.
That’s why you love David.
My brain is being logical, but my stupid heart aches. I knew better than screwing around with someone like Camilo. He’s a player. All he wanted was a good fuck and then he was done. Back to being a dick. I’m so pissed at myself for giving in.
“Earth to my bestie,” Damian chirps, waving his hand in my face. “You’re not even listening to me. The ’73 Voyager had yellow shag! Shag carpet from the seventies in all six rooms. It was horrendous! Yachts are supposed to be elegant, not have disco balls and fringe on the sofas!”
I stare at him, feeling numb.
“Wonderful,” I snip. “When are we allowed to go back to our rooms?”
He flinches at my cold brushoff. “Who twisted your panties in a wad?”
“The handsome pilot,” Estefania reveals, her voice sad. “He broke her heart.”
I snarl at her. “He did not break my heart. And thanks for throwing me under the bus.”
“I’m your bestie,” Damian squawks. “How did I not know the sexy Mexi hurt your feelings?”
Rising from my chair, I pin him with a hard look. “You’re not my bestie. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get out of here.”
Ignoring them, I storm out of the restaurant and into the rain. I splash my way back to my room. When I push inside, I find Rosita and Eduardo inside, talking frantically in Spanish. All I can do is stare at the gaping hole in the ceiling and the fact that everything I own is soaked. Lovely. Just freaking lovely.
“Thank God for travel insurance,” I bite out. “Can you please show me to my new accommodations?” I give Rosita a frosty smile.
Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flare. “We can assess one of the empty villas and see about having you transferred over there as soon as—”
“Now,” I bark. “I need a place to lie down and not catch pneumonia while I’m at it. Show me to my new room now.”
Eduardo shoots me a pleading look that I ignore. I know I’m poking the bear. Rosita isn’t exactly nice. I recognize another shark of a woman when I see one.
“Oh my,” Estefania cries out when she steps inside the room. “Oh, Sherrie-dan, you must be so upset!”
“Everything’s soaked and ruined, but surprisingly I’m okay,” I grind out. “I just want a new room. Now.” I know I sound petulant and bitchy, but I need space from these people before I go nuclear.
“I will gather our things,” Estefania says, splashing across the ruined carpet.
“I’ll pay double to have my own villa,” I tell Rosita.
Estefania whirls around and gapes at me, hurt flaring in her eyes. “Sherrie-dan—”
“Sheridan. Not Sher or Sherrie or Sherrie-dan. Sheridan.” I have to look away from the way her eyes glass over with tears. This is me. I push incompetent people away. These people have nothing to offer me. They aren’t assets, they’re pains in my ass.
“You’re a real peach,” Rosita mutters under her breath. “I felt a little sorry for you when my son lost his cool, but now I get it. You don’t deserve him. If you had anywhere else to go right now, I would make you leave.”
Her words hurt, but I know I’ve brought them on myself. Rather than showing the emotion that’s ripping me to shreds, I bare my claws and fangs and whatever else defense mechanism I can draw out.
“I’m the peach?” I say, scoffing. “You’re not much better. Guilting your son at every turn. Letting your family walk away because you couldn’t bear to let go of this shithole. And look
at it now? Ruined. Too bad you also ruined your family in the process.”
Smack!
I gape at her, rubbing at my stinging cheek. “You hit me.” I’ve never been hit in my entire life.
Eduardo’s voice grows authoritative as he barks out a whole lot of nonsense in Spanish that makes Rosita wither a little. Real fear shines in her eyes. Not from what he says to her, because Eduardo wouldn’t hurt a fly. But because of what she thinks I’ll do to her.
I’ll fucking sue her to death.
For a moment, her eyes are sad. Her chin trembles. She looks so small. It reminds me of Momma there at the very end when she was trying to be strong for her little girl. This is worse than any slap. It’s a stab to the heart. A sob wrenches up my throat and I stumble back, trembling.
I’m a monster.
Momma would be horrified at the woman I’ve become.
I want to apologize to Rosita. To tell her I’m not this person. At least, I don’t want to be. But no words come out. Just tears. Estefania, whom I lashed at only seconds ago, comes to my aid. Is this what real friendship is? Still caring for someone even when they’ve been a mega bitch to you? She hugs me and I let her. I’m supposed to be pushing them all away and hardening my heart because the moment I leave this place, they’ll all be part of the past anyway. And yet I can’t bring myself to push Estefania anymore. I feel like I need her.
“Rosita and I will move your things for you. Your villa is número dos, er number two. We will meet you there,” Eduardo says, his voice apologetic.
He has nothing to be sorry for.
It’s me.
I’m the problem.
Estefania leads me out of the room and back into the rain. We find Damian outside, his mascara running down his cheeks, shivering and looking like a drowned rat. I thought I couldn’t feel any worse. That was wrong.
I feel like scum.
“Come here,” I tell him, my voice hoarse with emotion.
He splashes over to us and hugs the both of us. All three of us cry like little girls on the playground. It’s embarrassing and oddly freeing all at once. In this horribly vulnerable moment, I allow my two best friends—my only friends—to hold me together because I’m quickly unraveling. I don’t deserve them. I don’t understand why they’re still here, even after my being a mega bitch toward them. It makes no sense whatsoever.