by Elena Armas
“Well, Aaron, I really wish I could tell you she didn’t, but I would be lying.”
Years had taught me that Charo was unpredictable.
“So”—I changed the subject—“in a couple of hours, we will be meeting the youngest members of the Martín clan for phase one of the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party.”
“A little briefing, please?” he queried. Aaron had finished unpacking—which I hadn’t—so he leaned his back on the wardrobe that was in the corner of the room and gave me his full attention.
“You’ll be delighted to hear that we will spend the day outside, enjoying the warmth of the Spanish sun on our skin and doing something that has nothing to do with sipping mimosas and getting massages. Which was my idea.” I walked to the narrow dresser and grabbed a neat stack of towels. “My maid-of-honor duties were overruled by one of my youngest cousins, Gabi.” I placed the towels on the comforter. “And that means only one thing.” I paused dramatically. “The Wedding Cup.”
“The Wedding Cup?” A chuckle left Aaron’s lips.
Strangely, that little noise made me want to smile. I ignored it and gave him a rundown of how we’d be occupying our day instead.
“In the Wedding Cup”—I sighed—“Team Bride, which is composed of all the females invited to the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party, competes against Team Groom, which will be composed of the male ones.” I said that last part with sarcasm. “Real refreshing, huh? Boys against girls, competing in a series of games and activities. Yay.”
Aaron nodded, not taking any side. “I can tell, you are very excited. But please continue.”
I sent him a look. “The team that collects more points will secure the win and obtain the Wedding Cup.”
“And is this cup a physical trophy or just a symbolic reward?” Aaron asked, and I could tell he was trying to take this seriously. Unsuccessfully. He could barely contain his amusement.
“Listen”—my arms went to my hips in an attempt to make myself look imposing—“I told you I was not in control of this. I am more of a representative maid of honor. My cousin Gabi is one of those fitness-obsessed people, and she organized the whole thing. So, just be glad that you are not stuck with me on your team.” Picking up my toiletry and makeup bags, I walked to the modest en suite bathroom as I kept absently filling Aaron in while I placed all my things on the narrow space available. “I am not happy about this, okay? If it were for me, we would be at a spa while you guys went somewhere to do … guy stuff.”
“Guy stuff?” I heard Aaron’s voice coming from the bedroom.
“Yeah, punch your chests, drink beer like it’s the end of your lives, or go to a strip club. What do I know?” I shook my head, knowing I was being a little too stereotypical. “But no,” I continued, placing a travel-sized container of shampoo on the counter. “We couldn’t be so lucky. Funny enough, the one on board with this thing is Gonzalo. Who would have thought? A stupid competition over enjoying his last day as a bachelor away from his bride. Not that I’m shocked. Gonzalo has been crazy about my sister since the moment he laid eyes on her. So, why would he want to spend a day away from her?”
What they had was the real stuff. Honest, devoted, palpable love. The one that transcended distance, differences, and obstacles. The kind that was meant to be written about in books. Thinking of it filled my chest with warmth and longing for something I didn’t know I’d ever be able to find.
“Anyway, Gonzalo is the Wedding Cup’s biggest cheerleader. And something tells me, he’ll be more than thrilled when he sees you. He’ll holler and bro-hug you, and you’ll be his new best friend. I can tell. Gon is so competitive, always has been, so he’ll be over the moon to have the closest thing to a freaking Greek god on his team. Straight out of Olympia.” I snorted.
Aaron did look a little like one of those sculptures. All stoic with smooth and symmetrical lines. Gonzalo would love Aaron on the—
Hold up.
What did I just say?
My eyes closed at the realization that I had called Aaron a god. A Greek one. Out of Olympia. Out loud.
Oh, please, bathroom walls, be thick and soundproof. Please.
Sensing his presence somewhere behind me and considering the dimensions of both the room and en suite, I remained very still.
I opened my eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror in front of me.
Aaron was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let my eyes travel around the counter, taking in everything and making my way up until finding Aaron’s gaze on the mirror.
“Chances of you not hearing me from the bedroom?” I ventured.
“It depends.” I watched his throat work, swallowing. “How good of hearing do Greek gods have?”
I had two options: own it like the grown-up woman I was, or ignore this had just happened and be a total chickenshit.
Rearranging every item I had just placed on the shelf in silence, I opted for the latter, all the while feeling his gaze following my every move.
A moment later, I sensed Aaron turn around, but before he walked away, I called for him, “Oh, and, Aaron?” I watched the reflection of his back in the mirror. “The losing team has to perform a choreographed dance tonight.”
No answer came from him, but when he finally took a step away, I could perfectly imagine the competitive gleam coming alive in his eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
I stood with my hands on my hips, getting a little lost in the palette of blues and greens that painted the view before me.
When people thought of Spain, they thought of jammed beaches under the merciless summer sun. They thought of tables loaded with jars of sangría, pans stuffed with paella, and a payload of tapas. They most likely thought of some dark-haired dude serenading the evening with impossibly masterful fingers stringing a guitar too. And in a way, they were not completely wrong. One could find that in Spain. But it was only a small part of what represented my home country. One that sadly didn’t even cover ten percent of what it offered.
The small city where I had come from stood on the most northern coast of the peninsula, wedged between the often fierce and ivory Cantabrian Sea and a range of emerald mountains.
Contrary to general belief, the country wasn’t bathed in sun throughout the whole year either. Particularly not the northern regions. Nope. The north of Spain was known for granting its inhabitants the chance to experience all four seasons in the span of a few hours, any day of the year. Which made possible for the vegetation to grow wild and lush, engulfing pastures and hills and creating an image very few thought of when it came to Spain.
So, yeah, summer wasn’t all that great in the north. But surprisingly, today the sky was clear, and the breeze from the sea was gentle. It brought me back to a time when, in days like these, we would try to make the most of it, as if our life depended on it. From dawn till dusk. Isabel and me. Las hermanas Martín. The Martín sisters.
Taking a peek at the group of people who had gathered today for the Wedding Cup, a little part of me wondered what was going on inside of Aaron’s head. What had been his first impression of the place that had seen me grow up? Of my people?
Introductions had gone better than good. If Spaniards were known for something, it was their openness and hospitality. Nobody had seemed to bat an eyelash at my fake boyfriend. Not more than the awkwardness of having a guiri—what we called tourists—and therefore having to use their rusty English.
Only the youngest generation of both the bride and groom’s families, their partners, and some of our closest friends were here. Except for our barbaric and free-spirited cousin Lucas, who no one knew where he had disappeared to this time. And the best man—otherwise known as Daniel, my ex, my first and only relationship, or the man my family believed I had never gotten over. He had not arrived yet.
“Aquí está mi hermana favorita.” My sister’s voice reached me a heartbeat before I was tackled from behind.
“I’m your only sister, idiot. Of course I’m your favorite.” I wrapped my hands around her forearms, which were resting on my collarbone.
“Forget about technicalities. You are still my fave.”
Sticking my tongue out, I looked at her over my shoulder. If not for our heart-shaped faces, we wouldn’t look anything alike. Isabel had always been taller and leaner than me. Her eyes had little green speckles to the brown we shared—something I had always been envious of—and her hair was curlier and darker, just like Mamá’s. But the differences didn’t stop there. Where my sis was this puzzle piece that fit anywhere at the first try, I had always seemed to struggle with finding my place. Somehow, I always managed to be missing a little corner or have an extra edge that pushed me to keep trying somewhere I might fit better. That pushed me to keep looking for that place to call home. Because that was no longer Spain for me. But neither was New York as much as I had Rosie and a career I was proud of. It had always felt … a little lonely. Incomplete.
“Hello? Earth calling Lina,” she said, coming to my side and tugging at my arm. “What’s up with you today? Why are you hiding here?”
I had been doing that, hadn’t I? Even if only for a few minutes.
My big sister knew me far too well, so I made a note of being extra watchful around her with Aaron. If there was someone who would see through the deception, it would be Isabel.
“Not hiding.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I was just trying to have a moment of peace away from the bridezilla. I heard she almost ripped the groom’s head off because he’d bought the wrong shoes.”
I stepped away and turned, so I could face her.
“You heard that right.” My sister and bride-to-be brought a hand to her chest, feigning dismay. “I let him pick one thing, Lina. One. And he came home, all proud and happy, with a pair of shoes that made me question my taste in men, really.” She shook her head. “I was this close to uninviting him to my wedding.”
“Our wedding, you mean.” I laughed.
“Yeah. Didn’t I say that?” The corner of her lips tugged up with mischief. “Anyway, I think we still have about an hour or so until lunch break. Are you ready?”
A look passed between us.
“For my death? Always.”
“Come on, drama queen,” Isabel said, linking our arms and pulling me in the direction of the group. “Time to go back. Gabi sent me to fetch you. There’s a schedule, you know.”
I pouted.
“Oh, stop that. It’ll be fun.”
“It hasn’t been, and it won’t be,” I said, dragging my feet but following her because what choice did I have? “Gabi has turned into this cute but terrifying sports mogul, and everyone is scared of her.”
Isa snorted. “It’s not that bad. Plus, we might still win. We are only three points behind those stupid suckers.”
“Did you just call your fiancé a stupid sucker?”
“Fine, we are only three points behind Team Groom. Better?”
“Better. But”—I shot her a humorless glance over my shoulder—“they are still going to smash us like cockroaches.”
Shaking my head, I thought of how unathletic Team Bride was compared to our male counterpart. The points we had collected were lame pity points Gabi had given us to keep the team motivated. Well, everybody else on the team but me. Motivation had left me long ago. I was ready to call it a day and go stuff my mouth with food. My jet-lagged body had flipped the hungry switch, even before we started running around with this nonsense.
“You can blame yourself for that.” My sister’s pointer finger joined her accusation. “You brought Clark Kent’s doppelgänger to the party.”
“He does look like him, doesn’t he?”
Isabel nodded. “And by the way …” She paused, and before I could dodge it or be prepared for it, she tugged at my ponytail. A little too hard.
“Hey!” I grabbed my hair and moved out of the trajectory of other possible attacks. “What the hell was that for, bridezilla?!”
“Don’t be a baby; you deserved it. How dare you keep that”—Isabel pointed at Aaron, making me smack her hand down—“hidden from me!”
“Isabel,” I warned.
She went on, ignoring me and waving her index finger in my fake boyfriend’s direction, “When my sister starts dating someone, I expect a full report. Vivid descriptions, photos, videos, oil paintings—I don’t care. Even those dick pics I mentioned, which you never sent.”
“Isabel.” I lowered my voice. “Shut up. He will hear you.”
We were only a few feet away from the group.
She cocked an eyebrow and then tilted her head slowly.
Dammit.
“He is dating you. What’s the big deal with him hearing you talk about it with your sister? You’ve seen his penis. We are allowed to discuss it.” She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I think we are expected to do that. I’m sure he’s talked to his friends about your bubbies.”
I cursed under my breath.
She stared at me, inspecting my reaction.
I looked nervously in Aaron’s direction. Our gazes met. Those blue eyes, which always seemed to find me, held mine for a long moment.
Jesus, did he hear that?
Shaking my head very lightly, I returned my gaze back to my sister.
“You know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “you only mentioned him a couple of times, so I was convinced it wasn’t that serious. But I’m not so sure of that anymore.”
“What do you mean?” My heart sped up as I feared what she might say.
We had barely had any time to act all snuggly and lovey-dovey or however a boyfriend and girlfriend were supposed to behave. All the Wedding Cup shenanigans had consumed all our time and energy.
“Well, for one, he’s here,” Isabel pointed out. “You bringing him home—to meet Mamá and Papá and basically the entire town—tells me that he’s not just anyone. There must be something special about him. You wouldn’t bring someone you were casually seeing or dating. Not even if they looked like him. You don’t trust people easily anymore.”
Stumbling over my own thoughts, I came to a stop.
Her words had smacked me right in the face. Emptying me of anything I could say.
Impostor. The accusation took shape in my head. How could it not when I was a big, fat liar?
Isabel took my silence as a sign to keep talking. “Then, there’s the way his eyes have been on you the whole time we’ve been here.”
Whoa, what?
“It’s been only, what? A couple of hours? And he’s still absorbed by you, watching and following every single move you make, as if you were pooping rainbows and leaving behind a trail of glitter. It would be disgusting if I wasn’t in love myself.” She patted my hand. “And trust me, sis, you all red and blotchy? Not that cute.”
My head whirled in Aaron’s direction again. He was chugging water from a bottle, not looking half as physically exerted as everybody else. Even after carrying Team Groom on his back along with Gonzalo. As I got lost in the way his arm stretched and his throat worked down the water, I wondered if my sister had imagined all that or if Aaron’s acting was that amazing. Maybe I hadn’t given him enough credit.
“Anyway,” she added as we finally reached the group, “you’ll have to catch me up on this and tell me all the dirty details. Don’t think that just because I haven’t drilled you for them, I don’t want them.” Isabel warned me with a look that told me she’d bug me until I broke under the pressure. “But until then, just keep doing whatever you are doing.” She winked. “Because, hermanita, he has it bad.”
A snort involuntarily escaped my lips. “Yeah, sure.”
Isabel quirked an eyebrow.
Oh shit. “Of course he has it bad, Isa.” I waved my hand. “He’s my boyfriend,” I tried to assure her, not sounding anywhere close to convincing.
So, I quickened my pace and left my big sister behind before I led her to uncover the whole farce. Thankfully, as soon
as I reached the group, Gabi was already wielding her printed schedule and trying to gather everyone closer. In a perfect circle.
Rolling my eyes at that, I watched my cousin and Wedding Cup mastermind start shouting out orders in Spanish while we all tried to ignore how Gonzalo snagged my sister from behind and engulfed her in an embrace that included more than a fair share of inappropriate groping and fondling.
“Yikes,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s my sister.”
But at the same time, something squeezed in my chest. I realized that a small part of me observed the public display of affection with something that felt a lot like longing. And that compressing sensation bothered me; it awoke a very particular set of questions I had no answers to. All of them revolving around the same thing.
Would I ever find what Gonzalo and Isabel had? Would I ever allow myself to?
Would I ever be so head over heels, crazy in love that everything else would fade to black noise?
My gaze searched for Aaron, not because I wanted him to emulate Gonzalo, but because maybe everyone else expected him to. Not spotting him anywhere in the less than perfect circle of people around Gabi, I grew a little concerned as she shot more and more instructions to the group. His head would roll if he didn’t get here ASAP.
A light touch on my arm grabbed my attention. Turning my head, I was welcomed by a pair of blue eyes that regarded me with something strange.
“Here you are,” I whispered loudly while Gabi kept going at it in the background. “I was scared for your well-being. Where did you go?”
“I’ve been right here the whole time.”
That strange quality was still there. But I brushed it away. I had no time to inspect whatever I’d thought I saw in Aaron’s eyes. Instead, I focused on how good he looked in his nylon shorts and short-sleeved henley.
“Are you having fun?” He offered me a bottle of water, pushing it gently in my direction.
“Oh, thank you.” I reached for it with both hands, managing to brush my palms along his fingers somehow. Sparks traveled all the way up my arms, making me retrieve my hands quickly and hold the bottle to my chest. “That was … sweet. Very boyfriend-like of you.” I looked up at him, finding him frowning. I didn’t give him the chance to complain. “And not too much fun, to be completely honest,” I admitted with a small pout. I had been serious when I told my sister that I was ready to call it a day. “Thank God we are about to be done here. Otherwise, I’d have to fake breaking a leg or a wrist.” I lowered my voice. “Or knocking off Gabi with something.”