I’m scared because we couldn’t be more different.
I’m scared because I’m so afraid to let him in and then let him go.
I’m afraid because our togetherness has an expiration date.
And mostly, I’m afraid I’ll never again feel the way I feel when I’m with him.
Am I ready to let him go without even giving us a real try?
Am I ready to let him go?
I write down the answer, the one I had all along but was too hesitant to embrace, and retrace it a couple of times till it screams back at me in bold, black enlightenment.
NO.
I push back the chair and head straight to my bedroom. I’m not even sure what I’m shoving into the open suitcase. There are a couple of dresses, a few pairs of heels, and an assortment of lingerie from all the varieties of the sultry to subtle spectrum. Adrenaline is rushing through me, building until I don’t even know what I am throwing in the bag anymore.
. . .
As I stand before the friendly receptionist, the wind is slightly taken out of my sails. Okay, I’m here. Now, what? I don’t have a room, and I’m not sure if I should get one. I’m not even sure where the event is being held, or how Sebastian will react when he sees me here. And what if I waited too long and he’s already given up on me? Showing up, under those circumstances, would be a huge mistake.
“Bienvenida a Can Bonastre Wine Resort, Señorita,” the friendly receptionist greets me, pulling me out of my concern bubble. “En qué puedo ayudale?”
“I’m here for the event?” I offer, tentatively.
“Of course, Miss. Would you like to check in first?” He smiles, nodding at my luggage.
“Can I have it stored for the time being?”
“Sure, Miss.”
“Could you please direct me to the event?”
“Here is the agenda. The current session News and Innovations, Textures and Tastes, started about twenty minutes ago, but you can still get in.”
It doesn’t take me long to find the conference hall. Slowly, I pull back the round handle and try, as quietly as possible, to open the bronze door. I hold my breath as the heavy door slides back in a loud, lingered squeak. I inwardly curse when the same sound repeats when I try to close it gently behind me.
Disregarding the few heads turned my way, I make a quick peek of the approximately hundred guests, searching for a vacant chair. I spot one a couple of rows closer to the stage and quickly, yet stealthily, make my way toward my target. I smile apologetically at the couple sitting next to the vacant seat, nodding at the empty space. I wiggle through the small space between the lanky gentleman and the back of the seat of the next row. Another cautious step and I almost make it safely to my seat. Almost. The awkward, embarrassingly loud way I land onto the chair is more akin to a collision with the inanimate furniture. My pointy toe boot somehow manages to get stuck behind the leg of the chair of the lady I’ve tried to gracefully pass, and I end up diving onto my seat with an involuntary yelp and way too much ruckus.
At this point, all heads turn my way. Heat covers my skin as I offer a timid, apologetic look at whoever is in my direct view. My next remorseful gaze directs to the stage, to the person holding the mic whose attention I’ve apparently also managed to steal.
He brings the mic held still in his hand near his mouth and resumes his lecture, albeit his full attention remains on me. A clan of butterflies on LSD start dancing in my stomach to the fusion of our stares. My lips curve into a relieving, earnest smile when I notice the little pull of his lips, partly hidden behind the microphone. When he finally turns his attention back to his attentive audience, I get the full spectacular that is Sebastian on stage.
He moves in easy grace, the timbre of his masculine voice coated by his blood-simmering accent doing things to my imagination that I shouldn’t entertain in a room full of people. Thirstily, I drink the sight of him. His handsome face, closely shaven and naturally tanned. His crew cut styled up in a semi-tamed fashion. His impeccable body clad in a snug black tee that’s stylishly paired with a charcoal two-piece suit, perfectly accentuating his fit build. His fluid monologue colors the room till with a side smile and a wealth of charisma, he thanks the audience and announces a fifteen-minute break before the next presenter.
My nerves, just like the parting audience, scatter around in disorder as I wait for Sebastian, who’s closing the distance between us. We hold eye contact even when he excuses himself from people who pause him for a handshake or a short chat. The longer it takes him to reach me, the more agitated I grow.
A small step away, he leans toward me, close enough for his lips to soar next to my ear. “You are here.”
“I am.”
He inches up, eyes me for a beat, giving me enough time to stew, to contemplate whether I made the right decision coming here. The pull of his lips at the side liberates me from these doubts. His dimple makes an appearance before he leans in toward me once more, only this time it’s for his lips to touch mine with a chaste kiss. One that bathes me in tender warmness and his heady scent.
Sebastian takes my hand, suggesting I should follow. And follow I do. As if there’s anything else I’d rather do . . .
“What are we doing here?” I ask Sebastian once we enter a small room packed with wine crates and clattered marketing collateral.
“I need to get some more samples,” he says while setting a few red wine bottles onto a high table. “And taste you.”
A soft smile adorns my lips when he turns my way. We study each other for a silent pause, a slow journey from each other’s eyes to mouths and back. He takes another step to close the space between us. “Not necessarily in that order,” he murmurs, his lips honing in on the pulsing vein on my neck. “Your smell . . .” He nuzzles my lightly heated skin.
Gradually the mass of his body covers mine, and we start a slow-motion dance of exploring each other. Sebastian leans me backward against the wall, and I gladly surrender, letting him lead. My hand travels to the back of his neck while the other cradles his firm rear. His fingers caress my collarbone, curling around my shoulder, pulling me deeper into our kiss. Roaming slowly over my curves, his other hand palms my ass. I slightly incline my mouth to better absorb his tender, yet determined tasting of me. Sebastian’s thigh moves slightly to part my legs. The silence of the room soon fills with heavy breaths and occasional sounds of pure need as our desire to devour each other intensifies.
“Oh, God, you taste . . .” My words come out on a breath, right into the heat of Sebastian’s intoxicating mouth.
“Sebastian? Ay, lo siento . . .”
My eyes rip open and cautiously trail toward the voice. Sebastian huffs and inches back. My already heated skin’s temperature feels on fire. My partner in crime, utterly collected, turns to the gracefully matured, handsome version of himself.
“Papá.” He shifts to fully face his dad. “This is Liv.”
“Oh, the Liv? Great pleasure to meet you, I’m Miquel.” Sebastian’s dad, clad in a three-piece navy pinstripe suit takes a few steps to reach me. Before I’m able to respond, try to decode “the Liv” comment, or attempt to subtly make amends with what I’m sure is my disheveled state, his hands rest on either of my shoulders and he leans in to kiss both my cheeks.
“Likewise.” Words scrape out of my mouth. I clear my throat and his eyes morph a shade wickeder.
The same tone is sent his son’s way via a long side-glance. “I came for some extra samples, but I see you beat me to it.” He gestures to the bottles Sebastian left aside before we began our “getting reacquainted” session. “Bueno, I’ll see you both later.” He winks at me and leaves.
Patting my hands over my outfit, I smooth the unfussy ensemble, ankle-cropped boyfriend style jeans and olive-green fit blazer which I’ve amped up with a stylish leopard scarf. “Nothing’s better than a good first impression, uh?” I murmur.
Sebastian regards me with a mirthful sidelong peep. “Don’t sweat it. I’m pretty sure he�
��d high five me if he didn’t think it would make you even more uncomfortable.” Sebastian smirks and I shake my head, however with a dainty arch of my lips. He extends his hand to me. “Let’s get back. You can either stick around for the next session or go to the room. Thought you might want to rest.”
“I could use a little nap,” I say, indulging in the feel of his palm against mine.
“We’ll probably wrap up in a couple of hours, and I’ll come up then. Oh, and dinner is at eight. I’ll have to be at the bar about half past seven though, for mingling.” The last part is uttered with an accompanying eye roll.
I assist Sebastian by carrying a bunch of brochures as we make our way back to the foyer where guests are scattered in little groups, chatting and tasting wine till the next lecture begins. Sebastian leaves the wine crate with one of the servers, briefly instructing him where and how the samples should be placed. Same goes for the marketing material.
Having a sense of being watched, my stare is pulled toward the opposite side of the ample space to where an elegant woman donning a mauve suit and a silky, dark bun nods at Sebastian with a heartfelt smile. Her attention is drawn my way with the slide of Sebastian’s hand to my waist. Her expression hardens, deepening in scrutinized interest. I return her stare with no less curiosity. When Sebastian’s father reaches her side and enfolds her narrow waist, I put two and two together. The mother.
Sebastian drops a light kiss on my temple and squeezes my waist. “Let’s go say hello to my mom.”
I have an urge to argue, but in the same breath, I decide to remain silent. If I am here, I may as well just go with it. By joining him this weekend, I’ve nonverbally agreed to more. The cards of our “rules,” the ones I’ve religiously kept thus far, have been shuffled.
“Nice seeing you again,” Sebastian’s dad nods at us politely, a hint of a knowing glee decorating his features.
“Oh, you’ve already met Sebastian’s, eh . . . friend?” Sebastian’s mother’s neatly made-up face turns to her husband with overt keenness.
A side smile adorns Sebastian’s dad’s smoothly shaven face. “I had the pleasure of running into the lovely Miss Liv while she was tasting one of our special vintages.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow, rewarding his father with a mischievous grin. Warm heat washes over my cheeks. A flush that deepens when Sebastian’s mom asks me, “And how did you like it?”
“Very much. I’ve never tasted anything like it,” I say, willing my convicting rosiness to evaporate. Both men’s eyes light up in cheeky elation. I bite my lip to keep it from widely stretching.
“I’m glad to hear that. I hope you’ll have the chance to try more of our wine this weekend.”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Sebastian says, and his old man gifts me with a wink.
“So you’re staying for the entire event, then, Livia?”
“It’s Liv, Mom,” Sebastian corrects his mother.
“Um, I guess I am.” I chance a glance at Sebastian.
“I hope our son got you one of the suites in the south wing. They have the best view of the resort.”
I send Sebastian another glance, not sure how I should respond to that.
“I did. Liv is staying with me,” Sebastian answers in an idle tone, nodding at a gentleman who raises a full glass his way.
His mother’s demeanor seems to muddle for a flit beat. When she recomposes, she darts a look, which I can’t gauge, toward her husband and son in tandem. Alas, it’s her expression when she pivots my way that leaves me less than composed. “Oh,” she says, her eyes narrowing at me, but her question is directed at her son. “I thought Lola was sharing your room. Is this a last moment change?”
A few things happen in succession after the last of her words drop between the four of us. A blow that pummels at my stomach. Me trying to subtly wiggle out of Sebastian’s hold. Sebastian’s arm securing firmer around me, keeping me next to him. Miquel ducking to whisper something to his wife while giving me a genuinely rueful glance.
“Lola was never supposed to share my room.” Sebastian’s low voice holds more than the irritation he radiates; there’s a warning carried somewhere along his tone.
“What was I never supposed to do?” The woman in subject appears out of thin air. With her shine, almond eyes, and blood-red lips, she adds the last necessary detail to make me feel like I’m exactly where I don’t belong. I’m not sure what to make of the caution embedded gentle headshake the man holding me tight to his side sends his friend Lola.
Both women trade a short glance before turning in unison my way. The entire situation makes me second-guess the decision I took to join the event in the first place.
“Lola, have you had the chance to meet Tian’s new friend?” Sebastian’s mom asks Lola with a blatant “can you believe this?” look. Or maybe it just appears that way to me. Whatever it is, there’s clear displeasure echoing from her small gesture.
“You must be Liv!”
I can’t hold any resentment toward Lola with the kind smiles she peppers my way.
“I’m Lola.” She hugs me and plants two airy kisses on either of my cheeks. Truth be told, at this point, I’d be more than happy for the joyful gathering to end and for the welcoming committee to break up.
“Nice to meet you.” It takes great effort for me to sound as amicable as I do.
“So, I guess we’ll see you guys later at dinner,” Lola continues with a cheery voice. She threads her arm through the crook of the older lady’s and says, “We should go, Celeste, we’ll miss our spa treatment.” That last tidbit wraps up the stingfest my stomach has been hosting for the last few minutes perfectly. Just when I finally decide to give a chance to Sebastian and me, I find out that his mom could probably live without the idea of her son seeing me, and that she’s more than fond of his fine-looking friend. Same friend that not only looks more radiant up close, but also kisses him on the lips and leaves him “thank you for last night” notes. With goddamn red lipstick on his mirror.
I can’t help the stare I have trained on the ladies, following them as they disappear through a narrow corridor, joined by their semi-embrace. Miquel leaves us next.
Sebastian’s arm on my shoulder pulls me closer to him. “Hey,” he says in a voice that makes me believe he knows that the little gathering made me uncomfortable. As much as I try to play it cool, I can’t wipe the unease that has just been infused to every part of me. Sebastian stoops, his eyes searching mine. He slants closer to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “Don’t take my mom too seriously.”
I nod, daze fogging my thoughts. “I guess I’ll go to the room now.”
“I wish I could join you, but I need to attend the next session. I’m already running a bit late.” Sebastian produces a keycard from his pocket. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He is about to head back to where people are swarming back into the conference hall and takes half a step back. He cups my cheeks and startles me next when he kisses me as though there’s no one around us – tongue, intensity, and heat.
“I’m glad you came.” He dips his chin for another kiss, a light one, and leaves, too.
Chapter 17
“I’ll Drink to That”
Outasight
Trolley in tow, I leave reception to find our room, almost missing, for the second time, the beauty of the resort. Pushing away malignant thoughts that threaten to ruin this weekend for me, I stop to take in the view. The view I missed when I rushed in this morning, equally anxious and hesitant.
Lying at the foot of the spectacular Sierra de Montserrat Mountains, the resort has the perfect hideaway setting. The main building, our haven for the weekend, is an eighteenth century country house surrounded by acres of vineyards. It is heaven on Earth, and it is ours. And I’ll be damned if I let anything, or anyone, ruin that for me. Not an overprotective mother, an attractive friend, or even a damned force majeure will hold me back from enjoying our time together to the fullest. With a grin plastered on my lips and a determine
d “fuck that” in my heart, I enter our room. The smile on my face might have just reached its full elasticity.
I take a short tour of the room, admiring the contemporary, cozy style that transcends all aspects of the space. Mahogany wood elements that bring warmth and beauty to the minimalist design. Though there is so much to take in – the details of the room, the glass enclosed shower dominating the space, and the marvelous view from the small, charming balcony – I choose to focus on the deserted black tee loosely draped on the headboard of the wide bed. Bringing the shirt to my nose, I take a lungful, closing my eyes. Sebastian’s scent of warm chocolate and earthy seeps in, stirring my insides in the best of ways. In record time, I strip off my clothes and shrug the shirt on. Wrapping myself in the cuddly comfort only a well-worn shirt can induce, the smell of the man I wish was wrapped around me right now bathes me. Snuggled under the plump down comforter, it doesn’t take me long to drift into deep, serene sleep.
I flutter my eyes open into a dimly lit room. I’m alone; the balcony door is open, bringing in a gentle evening breeze. I jump at the sudden escalating mechanical bell jangling that rudely disturbs my mellow wakening. It takes a few additional monotonous chimes more till I realize it’s the alarm clock on my phone that’s screaming at me to rise and shine. I send my hand for the exasperating device on the nightstand and hurry to turn it off. I can’t help the giggle rolling off my lips when I notice the little note left for me next to the phone.
Get your perfecto ass out of bed and come join me for dinner.
A quick shower, thorough application of honeysuckle and spices scented lotion, and dramatic evening make-up, then I slip on a semi-sheer black silk maxi dress. I turn to examine my back via the standing mirror and beam at the way the low-cut, strappy back detail showcases my milky skin. The dress might be a tad daring given the blurry line between where the arc of my lower back ends and the curve of rear begins. Nevertheless, or in spite of, I leave it on, knowing full well how my dinner companion will appreciate the effort.
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