No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance)

by Cade, Trista

  I thanked him and went into the bathroom, dropping my wet clothes into the sink to keep from slopping anything on the floor. And yes, the warm water was exactly what I needed, along with a good night’s sleep.

  After I got out of the shower and got dressed, Javier was waiting for me in his room with a snack and some more bubbly water. He smiled, asking, “Is that better now?”

  “It is, thank you. It’s really great of you to let me stay here, I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” I replied sheepishly.

  “It is not any trouble. But you need to sleep now. Here,” he walked to the door and reached for the knob, pressing the small button in its middle until it clicked. “You have door locked so you have no worry. Yes?”

  I was shocked. Seriously? How many guys would think to lock...

  Wait, how many times am I going to ask myself that question, constantly comparing Javier to “other guys.” He’s not like other guys, and I can’t believe I was willing to toss him aside just to feel accepted by a group of total strangers. I’m a total idiot.

  “Javier, you don’t have to do that. I mean, I think it says a lot about you that you are willing to lock the door, but...I trust you. I think you are honest, and kind, and have far more honor than anyone I’ve ever met.” I desperately wanted to look away after that kind of heart-pouring, but I made myself look at him in the eyes so he knew that I meant every word.

  “And I think you are one of the only people I have met here who would say to others what she believes. You are a very...genuine...person, and you make me feel amazed.” Javier smiled at me, that same smile that made me forget what oxygen is for.

  He came to me and pulled me in a tight hug for only a second before placing his hands on either side of my face, tilting my mouth upward to meet his. His lips were so soft, but it was only a matter of seconds before I wound my hands into his curly hair and pulled his kiss even deeper, our tongues meeting hesitantly. It was one thing for us to make out the other night on the no-pressure safety of his couch, but we were standing in his bedroom and I was wearing barely more than a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

  Javier’s hands trailed down my arms to come together behind my back, his hands pulling me closer to him until there was no space between us. I could feel his excitement, making my breath catch for only a second.

  “Andie,” Javier said quietly, pulling back from the kiss and looking away from me. “I should go to the couch now.” I noticed his words said one thing, but his arms hadn’t loosened their hold on me. I had a decision to make.

  “No,” I shocked myself by saying, “I want you to stay here. With me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It took me a minute to figure out where I was the next morning. I was thoroughly confused by the goose down duvet and high-thread count sheets. This was no old twin bed mattress in a room I shared with the pink queen. The horrible memory of how I ended up having to find myself a place to sleep came rushing back at me and for a minute, I was emotionally squashed from the hurt at leaving the Theta house and ending up on the curb.

  Soon enough, though, I glanced over at Javier’s perfect shoulder sticking out from where the covers had snaked down and the memory of one of the best nights of my life came rushing back. The sun shone through the window, turning the muscular lines of his back into a golden sheen, shadows emphasizing each ripple.

  “I hear you are awake,” Javier said huskily in an amused voice, still facing away. “You breathe different now.”

  “Yup. Just admiring the view,” I replied, tracing a finger down the curve of his tricep. He turned towards me and smiled, only to have his smile quickly replaced by a worried expression.

  “You are not sorry now that it is the morning?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching my face a little bit fearfully.

  “No! Why would I be sorry?” I answered. “I am very happy to be here with you.” I tried to make my words clear so he fully understood. “There is nothing to regret about being here with you.”

  He grinned, then pulled me closer to him, turning me so he could curl up behind me. I felt his nose press against my hair right behind my ear as he breathed in the warm scent of sleep and shampoo. His arms tightened around me as he sighed with a happy noise.

  We lay together for only a few minutes more when Javier suddenly kissed me loudly on the cheek and said, “Let’s go! I cook breakfast!” I felt him pull the flat sheet off the bed as I clung to the duvet to cover myself. He wrapped the sheet around his waist a few times before heading into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later in drawstring pajama pants and drying his face on a towel. “You can have the bathroom to wash, I cook eggs.” He flicked the end of the towel at me playfully then began to whistle as he padded barefoot to the kitchen.

  I checked the time on my phone and was horrified to see that it was only a little past six. Didn’t they believe in sleeping back in Colombia? I mean, sure, we had classes to get to and my parents were coming later this afternoon, but what was the rush? I let out a deep breath and forced myself to climb out of that heavenly bed, darting into the bathroom and scooping up my pajamas along the way. I peeked around the door and glanced back up the hallway, just in time to see Javier lean dangerously over the countertop, trying to get a peek of me as I ran past his open bedroom door. That little sneak.

  I freshened up in the bathroom, grabbing the outfit I’d brought in my bag and hurriedly changing clothes. At least I wouldn’t be parading myself in the dreaded “walk of shame” by leaving a guy’s house in the clothes I’d shown up in. There are some things your ego just can’t get over.

  “That smells wonderful,” I said as Javier slid a plate of eggs and toast towards me. Little blobs of molten cheese dotted the peaks of scrambled eggs while a pool of butter oozed its way off the toast. I worked hard to make sure I didn’t drool in front of him. This was far better than any campus cafeteria food, obviously, but it was even better than the meals the cook at the sorority house dumped in front of us several times a day.

  Javier placed two glasses of orange juice on the counter, then brought his plate over next to mine and took a seat on the other barstool. He took a bite before deciding it was too hot, then turned to me. “You have classes today, and then?”

  “Well, my parents are coming to help me find an apartment and move my things. They’ll probably want to go eat, and since it’s about an hour flight and then the drive from the airport, they’ll be staying over. I’ll stay at their hotel until we find me a place to live.” I took another bite of eggs, doing my best not to inhale them since they were the best thing I’d eaten since starting college. Pace yourself, Andie.

  “Why an apartment? Why will you not live here?” Javier asked, causing my forkful of eggs to end up going down the wrong pipe, choking me. I struggled not to cough and spew eggs all over that beautiful, beautiful countertop. Javier patted my back gently, reaching for another napkin for me and sliding his own glass of juice towards me.

  “Um, because we just met and because I just...don’t think...well...” I couldn’t really come up with an answer as to why it was okay to have sleepovers but not actually agree to live with the guy. “Just because I’m only nineteen, I guess, and it’s just not normal.”

  “But we are engaged now,” he teased, “all that remains is your father has to present me with a goat and it will be official.” I smirked at him.

  “Oh, buddy. This is the twenty-first century. If anyone is getting a goat out of this relationship, it’s my family. We don’t pay people to take me, we charge people. And I mean, like, there’s a twenty goat minimum for them to even consider your offer. Forget the goats, we might actually be talking horses here.”

  “Horses? Are you insane? No girl is worth a horse!” It’s a good thing this guy believed in clean sheets and hand towels in the bathroom, because I’ve sent guys packing for less than a wisecrack like that one.

  “Well, maybe camels. Maybe,” I warned, a pretend scowl on my face.

  “Hmm, I don’t k
now, camels don’t taste too good and horses are tough to chew. We’d better stick with the goats.” He speared another forkful of eggs and chewed calmly.

  “Um, Javier...what do you mean? Are you going to eat the goat?” I put my fork down slowly.

  “Of course. It is traditional meal in Colombia. There is nothing like good goat barbecue.”

  “You’re kidding again, right? Right? Javier, look at me and tell me you’re kidding.” He wasn’t looking at me, he was still spooning up his eggs.

  “Sadly, this time it is not a joke. Yes, we eat goat. And several other animals that might not be part of the dinner in America.” He kept eating, like we were just discussing our favorite sports teams.

  “Okay, then. I’ll get right on whipping up a goat sandwich.” I pushed my plate away, suddenly losing my appetite.

  Luckily, there wasn’t too much more talk of foreign cuisine since it was time for both of us to head out, me to my first class and Javier to the morning study hall he proctored. He walked me across campus, stopping long enough at the Theta house for me to retrieve my portfolio, then insisting on lugging the giant case back across campus to the art department.

  “I will take you and your parents to dinner tonight,” Javier said after kissing me sweetly on the cheek. “There will be no goat, I promise.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of my mother sitting at a table wearing a giant bib, a steaming plate of freshly sautéed goat meat in front of her. “Call me when you are finished with classes and we will meet.”

  I admired the view of Javier’s long legs bounding off in the direction of the library, wondering just what I had done to deserve him. It must have been something good.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Princess!” my dad’s booming voice called through the restaurant, something that used to be embarrassing to me when I was in junior high but now that I was so far from home I really missed it. I practically ran into his hug, laughing out loud when he squeezed me and picked me up off the ground. Having a dad who is a former pro-football player meant a lot of my childhood had been spent with him tossing me around, even long after it stopped being thrilling to be thrown up so high. “How’s college treating you? You’re too skinny! Why aren’t you eating? Do you need money?”

  “No, Dad, I’m fine. Besides, you just put money in my account last week.” I smiled, remembering how nervous he’d been about me going so far away to school. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She had to head straight to the bathroom to check her hair,” he said, only halfway teasing.

  “I did not, I had to utilize the facilities,” Mom interrupted in a stern voice before smiling. “And check my hair.” She pulled me into a tight hug, not caring a smidge about her makeup as she held her cheek close to mine.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said, my words coming out garbled from my smooshed face. “How was the flight?”

  “Well, not long enough for your father to get a drink, but just long enough for my ears to pop. But how are you? Now, sit right down and tell me what happened with the Thetas. I have half a mind to call national headquarters right this minute. Secret middle of the night votes...sheesh. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Well, Mom, it’s like I told you on the phone, they just had a problem with...”

  “Hello!” Javier’s deep voice interrupted. The man had perfect timing. “I am Javier. And you are the mother and father of Andie!”

  My parents looked at him open-mouthed, my father’s glass of scotch stuck halfway between the table and his face. “Um...I’m Andie’s dad, Robert. This is my wife, Sarah. And you are...”

  “I am Javier de la Cruz y Garcia. And I am in love with Andie.” I hid my face in my hands.

  “He’s not in love with me, we just met a few days ago,” I corrected him, my words coming out between clenched teeth as I forced a smile. Both of my parents stared, alternating between looking at Javier’s grinning face and my mortified one.

  “Andie? Dear?” my mom said, leaving the rest of her sentence floating in midair somewhere over our candlelit table.

  “Why, yes Mom?” I asked, stifling a laugh as my dad chuckled into the amber liquid in his glass, covering up his humor at the situation by muffling his own laughter with his drink.

  “And might this have something to do with your decision to leave your sorority?”

  “Actually, it’s funny you bring that up...” I started before Javier threw an arm around my shoulders and kissed me loudly on the cheek, making my dad bristle and sit up taller for just a moment before he realized that Javier was having a lot of fun at my mother’s expense. “You see, the sisters didn’t exactly like the fact that...”

  “Andie and I will get married! Where is my goat?” Javier asked in an even thicker accent than usual, just for fun. My dad paused in mid-sip, but then quickly recovered when he saw through Javier’s game. My mother, however, had a little bit harder time figuring out the game and was absolutely incapable of finding the humor in it. She narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention back to me.

  “I’m sorry, did he say a goat? What is he talking about, Andie? Who is this young man?” She looked alarmed, and quickly began scanning the restaurant for a waiter who could throw this ruffian out.

  “Mom, he’s kidding, we’re not getting married. And nobody needs a goat,” I hissed at him, nudging him under the table. “We’ve been out a couple of times, that’s all. But yes, this is Javier, and he’s joining us for dinner.”

  My dad was just glad to finally have another guy at the table with us, even if my mom did stare icily at Javier, using her best attempt at manners but getting flustered when she couldn’t understand him. Dad even managed to get Javier to talk a little bit about sports and the outdoors, gushing about a hiking trip he got to take in South America last year with some of his work buddies when Javier mentioned Colombia.

  And just like he did with a huge portion of my sorority sisters, Javier quickly won over my parents. He was the right mix of outgoing conversation partner, humorous story teller, and respectful-but-attentive boyfriend who didn’t look all grabby and possessive. Mom warmed up to him after taking in his good looks and well-groomed appearance—and after he answered some standard questions and really nosy inquiries about his mom’s brother, the ambassador—and Dad was blown away by the way Javier actually stood up when my mom and I went to the ladies’ room, just because that’s what guys are supposed to do.

  Overall, the dinner was great, even after the polite mini-argument between Javier and my dad over the check, both insisting that he be the one to treat us to dinner. My dad finally won out, but only because Javier respected his elders more than he respected his customs and his insane need to help everyone he came across.

  As we left the restaurant and walked to my parents’ car, Javier kept my hand wrapped in his despite the raised eyebrows and unsure smirk from my mother. He gave me a very polite kiss on the lips, shook my father’s hand, and pulled my mother in for an incredibly unexpected hug. He waved to us and walked away, causing my father to ask, “Princess, don’t you think we should offer him a ride?”

  I didn’t even get a chance to respond before a mid-sized black limo turned the corner from a side street next to the restaurant and pulled up next to Javier. A youngish-looking olive-skinned driver whose black uniform barely contained his huge frame jumped out of the front seat to open the door. My mouth fell open as Javier ducked inside the car and was whisked away. Guess that kind of explains his walking everywhere. It’s just so hard to park your limo on campus.

  My mother, however, instantly eagle-eyed the shiny town car and pulled me closer to her to ask in a sweet voice, “What did you say his name was again?”

  My phone rang in my purse and I fumbled to answer it, confused since everyone in town who knew me was still within two hundred yards of my body. “Hello?”

  “Hello, princess,” Javier said, trying to use my father’s American accent. The hilarious result of his attempt just made me giggle before he mor
phed back into himself. “I forgot my manners. Would your parents like dessert at my home? Or, if they are tired from the travel, I will have dessert sent to their hotel.”

  “I’ll ask them. By the way, who was that guy driving that car?” I asked, somehow knowing full well what he would say.

  “That was Diego, my driver and bodyguard. He takes me everywhere.”

  “He’s your bodyguard? Are you serious?” I asked. My mother perked her head up and stared at me. She was so predictable. All I really had to say was, “401K? Stock options? A house in the Hamptons?” and she would have snatched the phone and promised my hand in marriage. “Let me ask them.”

  My mom might have been too tired before, but after seeing the limo and hearing about Javier’s bodyguard, curiosity got the best of her. We were soon on our way to Javier’s apartment for who-knows-what gourmet dessert he just happened to whip up while we were driving.

  Instead of navigating the rickety fire escape, Diego was waiting for us out in front of the building, ready to escort us inside through a lobby filled with gold wallpaper, gleaming mirrors, and recessed lighting. I snuck at better look at Diego in one of the mirrors and was horrified to see a pink, puckered scar that ran from the front of his jaw to the back of his neck. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that the scar was from where a bullet entered in his face and went out the back of his head, grazing a permanent path along his skin.

  Javier greeted us at the door, dismissing Diego in Spanish and closing the door before double locking it. He kissed me warmly, which was a little awkward in front of my parents, but they either didn’t see anything or they pretended not to. And as I predicted, there on the countertop was an elegant chocolate-and whipped-cream-covered dessert. Once again, too good to be true.

  “I know Andie is thinking that this is not possible, and she is correct. I did not cook this one, Andie, I cheat. I have Diego stop at a bakery when you said you will come here.” He smiled as he explained the too-perfect dessert sitting on a glass cake plate on his countertop. He wasted no time serving it to us, even offering my parents coffee—decaf, of course, since they simply must be tired from their trip—and brewing up some coffee which he served in a French press on a platter.