American Love Story (Dreamers)
Page 30
Priscilla
Things could not be weirder. I was in a very confined space with my parents, my best friend, my ex and his parents. Except it wasn’t like that, because Juan Pablo was a lot more than my ex, he was family. Even if things felt awkward now, strained. I felt like my skin was too tight on my face and I didn’t know where to look. It was never easy to keep things casual with Juan Pablo, there was too much history between us to act like mere acquaintances. And yet, that was what we were now. We hadn’t talked in months and sure, it was partly because we were both busy people, but we’d always been busy.
After that last time we broke up, I told Juan Pablo he needed to grow up and leave me alone... I’d been angry and frustrated, but before he walked out of my apartment he’d looked me straight me in the eyes and said, I will. After that, nothing. No booty call texts in the middle of the night, nothing. He’d stayed away like he said he would, like I’d asked him to.
As I mulled on that I felt something cold touch the tray that served as an armrest and looked up to see a stemless glass of wine, half full of rosé. The flight attendant smiled as she gestured to Juanpa who was heading toward the tiny, fancy plane lavatory.
“Mr. Campos said you wanted a glass of rosé.” I dipped my head and took a sip. That was so much like him, and why I stayed away. Because he fucking lived to take care of little shit like that. Anticipating every little whim of mine and always getting it right. I looked up with a smile at the young woman and gave her a real smile. Like he’d guessed, a glass of rosé was exactly what I’d needed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a nod before moving on to my parents and their drink order.
When she got there I saw Irene, J’s mom, gesturing for my mom to taste the wine she was drinking and my dad, pointing at Rafa’s glass, indicating he wanted one of the same.
“It’s like we got a reunion of the old block.”
I smiled at Patrice’s amused tone. He was right, the old folks were getting on like they’d never stopped living up the street from each other.
I turned so I was facing Easton, who was using Patrice’s gigantic chest as his airplane pillow. “Just wait until this plane lands, it’ll be utter chaos. Are you sure you’re ready for this, Mr. Archer?” I asked teasingly.
He winked at me and then turned so he could bring Patrice’s head down for a kiss. It was short and tender, but the devotion flowed off those two in waves.
I’d never thought I’d see Patrice like this, his feelings like an open book for the world to see. It was strange seeing all our friends paired off, settled, how love had changed them. It was bittersweet to think that for Juanpa and me, lack of love had never been the issue. It had always been there, no question. It just couldn’t fix all the other things that didn’t work.
Easton turned again toward me, his expression content. “I know you’ll take good care of me.” I knew that by you he meant his man. But I nodded anyway as I saw Juan Pablo stepping out of the bathroom.
“Juan, mijo. How you been? You got any gossip for next season?” My dad never missed a chance to ask J about his beloved Yankees. A big smile on her face, my mother beamed at him too.
They fucking loved him.
Like his parents loved me. After all these years of ups and downs with Juan Pablo it was hard to know how to feel with him around. Especially when he wasn’t being his usual extra self and trying to act cute or make conversation.
No, he was giving me space, like all the space.
I knew that this was going to be weird and deep down I’ve been on edge, knowing how hard it was going to be to stay off that fucker’s dick when we were going to spend an entire week on the beach drinking. But him icing me out was much worse.
I felt like I needed air, from all of it. From my own thoughts, from the friendly ease that everyone seemed to have when I still felt like I didn’t even know my place. I realized that on the other side of the wood paneling separating our cabin from the front of the plane there were two empty large leather seats, and I needed a breather.
I got up, and before I could take a step I had five pair of eyes on me. “A donde vas m’ija?”
“Just to sit up front for a second, Mami. I need to send out a couple of emails for work and need some quiet. Since this thing has Wi-Fi I’m going to do them on my iPad.” I gestured to the overhead where I’d stuffed my bag. “I’ll be back in a sec.” I tried my best to keep my tone peppy because there was nothing that put my mother on red alert faster than people needing “to be alone.” As kids she’d threatened to “take the doors off the damn hinges” on more than one occasion.
I could feel my mother’s eyes tracking my moves, but fuck I was suffocating. Not because being around Juanpa was making feel uncomfortable. No, it was because with him my heart and my head never seemed to want to retain the bad. Things would go up in flames and I’d tell myself to stay away...and after enough time passed I was right back in.
Wanting him.
The seats were back facing, so I had a full view of the cabin. I wondered if they were meant to be for a security detail—they were far enough where you weren’t too close, but you had a pretty good view of the cabin. Juanpa was sitting between his mom and his dad. Legs spread and that slick grin that always, always did things to me.
My phone buzzed with a message.
You need some company? I’ll ditch the hot teacher and come sit with you.
I laughed quietly and glanced up to find Easton looking at me with a knowing expression.
I’m good, just contemplating from afar all the things I can’t indulge in this week.
I heard the scoff before I looked up and saw my best friend taking a break from his text exchange with me to whisper something to Patrice. It was hard to remember that only a year ago things for them seemed virtually impossible, their lives at odds in so many ways. And yet here they were, engaged as of a couple of months ago, and so solid it felt like they’d always been together. He tapped me another message as Patrice engulfed him in a tight embrace.
I got your back.
I pocketed my phone after that and took another sip of my rosé as I quietly watched Juanpa. His shoulders were wider than they’d been a year ago, the last time we crashed and burned. Same tight fade, but now he wore a thick beard, which made his broad lips stand out. A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered how they felt grazing the back of my neck. How I could feel the imprint of them for days after.
Fuck, I needed to calm down. My parents were on this plane.
I made myself focus on another part of him that wasn’t his mouth and noticed he was wearing his usual “travel ensemble.” Fitted sweats, Yankees hoodie and Air Jordan travel combo, nothing different there. Except he didn’t seem like the old Juan Pablo. There was an ease to him that hadn’t been there before. Like he didn’t have anything to prove. He had his face turned to talk to my dad and I looked him up and down as he laughed at something.
I could tell you every mole, every scar on Juan Pablo’s body better than I could my own. I knew exactly where to touch him to make him moan with pleasure, and he could do the same to me. Except beyond that, nothing ever seemed to work for us. Not since that awful night when we said too many ugly things to forgive. We broke things then, but instead of giving up we kept coming back to take more bites out of each other. Until there was nothing left.
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by Adriana Herrera,
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Copyright © 2019 by Adriana Herrera
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ISBN-13: 9781488053931
American Love Story
Copyright © 2019 by Adriana Herrera
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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