His pupils dilate. With his eyes, he lets me know how much he needs me and pulls me to him.
“I’m dying to kiss you,” he murmurs, holding me close to his mouth.
He doesn’t say anything else.
He kisses me, and for a few seconds, I let him. Wow. Strangers around us applaud, delighted by our effusiveness. When he pulls away, the Iceman’s voice is hoarse, and he’s looking me right in the eye.
“This is like racing, darling. If you don’t take a risk, you can’t win.”
“Indeed, Mr. Zimmerman, but the problem is that you’ve already lost me,” I say, well aware of the impact of my words.
His gaze hardens immediately.
I pull away, shoving him, and walk toward my brother-in-law’s car. Eric doesn’t follow me, but I know he’s watching.
4
The next day, Sunday, I wake to find a beautiful bouquet of long-stemmed red roses waiting for me in the kitchen. Seeing them, I curse; I know who sent them.
“Cuchufleta, look at these beautiful flowers for you!” says Raquel.
Without reading the card, I throw them away. My sister screams like a woman possessed and quickly rescues the roses from the trash.
“What are you doing? Throwing these away is a sacrilege. They must have cost a bundle!”
“As far as I’m concerned, they’re trash, and they make me feel the same way.”
I don’t look as my sister puts the roses back in the vase.
“Aren’t you at least going to read the note?” she insists.
“No, and neither are you,” I say, and tear it out of her hands and throw it away as well.
My brother-in-law and my father walk in and gape at us.
“Can you believe she wants to throw this wonderful bouquet in the trash?”
“I believe it,” my father says.
Jesús kisses my sister on the neck.
“Thank God you’re here to save them, hon.”
I zap some coffee in the microwave and hear the doorbell ring as I drink it. I curse, ready to flee if it’s Eric. Seeing my face, my father goes to answer the door. Two seconds later, he returns, apparently amused, and leaves something on the table.
“Sweetheart, this is for you.”
They’re all looking at me, waiting for me to open the huge white-and-gold box. Finally, I give in.
“Wow!” exclaims my niece as she steps into the kitchen with perfect timing.
“I think someone wants to sweeten your life, darling,” jokes my father.
Amazed, I look at the huge soccer field made of candy. It’s not lacking in detail. It even has stands and fans! The scoreboard reads “I love you” in German: Ich liebe dich.
My heart flutters at hyperspeed.
I’m not used to these things and don’t know what to say.
“You’re not going to throw it away, are you?” asks my sister.
“I think so,” I answer.
My niece comes between us and raises a finger.
“Auntieeeeeeeeee, you can’t throw this away!”
I smile at her rascally expression. “Luz, if you want, eat the whole soccer field. It’s all yours, OK?”
“Hooray!” she says.
Aware my anxiety is growing, I go to see my friend Rocío. I’m sure she won’t talk to me about Eric, and I’m not wrong.
I come back for dinner, and Eric keeps calling until I finally turn my phone off.
Enough already!
At ten o’clock that night, I go to work. I’m greeting some friends at the door, when I see a dark BMW pass by and recognize Eric at the wheel. I hide. He didn’t see me, but, given the direction he’s taking, I suspect he’s headed for my father’s house.
Why is he so insistent?
Just as I start to dwell on it, someone touches my back, and I’m face-to-face with David Guepardo. I smile and try to focus on him. He follows me back to the bar and orders a drink. He’s kind, a real charmer, and because of his gaze and the things he says, I know what he’s after. But I’m not up for it today, and I decide to ignore the signals he’s sending as I serve drinks to other customers at the bar.
Twenty minutes later, I spy Eric walking into the bar, and my heart starts pounding.
He looks around and quickly locates me. He walks decisively over to me and says, “Jude, come with me.”
David gawks at him and then at me.
“You know this guy?” he asks.
Eric beats me to the punch.
“She’s mine. Anything else?”
His? How arrogant can he be?
Surprised, David looks back at me. I blink, and, finally, as I prepare a Rum and Coke for the redhead on the right, I respond, “I’m not yours.”
“Oh no?” Eric insists.
“No.”
I give the redhead his drink, and once he’s paid his tab, I turn back to Eric.
“I’m nothing of yours. We’re finished and . . .”
Fixing his spectacular blue eyes on me, Eric doesn’t let me finish.
“Jude, honey, will you stop talking nonsense and come with me?”
Annoyed by his words, I snarl. “You’re going to have to stop this foolishness, OK? I’ll say it again: I’m not your wife or your girlfriend or anything else either. I’m absolutely nothing of yours, and I want you to leave me in peace.”
“Jude . . .”
“Forget me and let me work,” I continue, annoyed. “I want you to find someone else, focus on her, and stay away from me, understood?”
I’m dead serious, but Eric just looks at me . . .
His jaw is tense, and I know he’s holding back his most primitive impulses, those that drive me crazy. God, I’m a masochist! David stares at both of us, but before he can say anything, Eric murmurs, “OK, Jude.”
Without further ado, he turns around and proceeds to the back of the bar. Uncomfortable, I follow him with my eyes.
“Who is that guy?” David asks.
I don’t answer. I just keep my eyes on Eric and watch as my bar mate serves him a whisky.
David insists. “Again, who is that?”
“Someone from my past,” I answer.
Upset and angry, I try to forget Eric’s here. I keep making drinks and smiling at the people who come up to order. For a long time, I don’t even look at him. David’s delightful, and he’s constantly trying to make me laugh. But my laughter freezes and my blood drains when, as I go to grab a bottle off a shelf, I see Eric talking to a pretty girl. He’s totally focused on her, which infuriates me and puts me in a very bad mood.
I turn around. I don’t want to keep seeing what he’s doing, but my damned curiosity forces me to look again. The girl is giving off all the usual signals women emit when a man interests them—a touch to his hair, his ear, and a come-hither smile.
Suddenly, the blonde runs a finger down his cheek. Why does she have to touch him?
Eric doesn’t move, and she gets closer and closer, until she’s wedged between his legs. Eric looks at her. His ardent gaze gets me hot. She runs a finger on his neck, and he lowers his eyes.
When he drops his eyes like that, followed by his crooked smile, I know it can mean only one thing. I could kill him!
Eric’s doing what I asked him to do. He’s found another woman. He’s having fun, and like an idiot, I’m here suffering.
Fifteen minutes later, he stands up, takes the girl’s hand, and, without looking back at me, leaves the premises.
I’ll kill him!
My heart pounds like crazy, and if I keep breathing like this, I’m going to hyperventilate. I walk to the restroom and splash water on the back of my neck. My rash is back. I need to get out of here or I’ll reenact the Texas chainsaw massacre, but in Jerez.
After I leave the restroom, I get rid of David by telling him I’m taking my break and I’ll see him the following night. I get in my car and scream in frustration. Why am I so damned stupid? Why do I tell Eric to do things that are going to hurt me? Why can’t I be as cold
as he is?
I’m such an idiot.
I turn on my phone and mindlessly begin to hum along with the radio.
I’m about to dial Eric’s phone number, when I stop myself. What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?
I turn off my cell.
I’m not going to call him.
I’m so angry, I take the key out of the ignition, get out of the car, and go back to the pub. I’m single, without commitments, and in charge of my own life. I look for David, find him, and kiss him. He responds immediately.
Guys are so easy.
We kiss for several minutes. Then I happen to notice the door opening and the blonde who left with Eric coming back in.
Surprised to see her, I follow her with my eyes. She goes to the bar, asks for a drink from my coworker, and then returns to her group of friends. In that instant, my cell beeps. A text from Eric: Flirting is as easy as breathing. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.
Without knowing why, I let out a laugh and curse. Damn him and his games. David looks at me. I tell him I have to keep working and return to my post.
I get back to my father’s house at half past six in the morning. It’s now Monday, December 24. Everyone’s asleep. I rummage in the trash bin and find the note that came with the roses: Honey, I’m a jerk. But a jerk who loves you and wants you to forgive him. Eric.
5
My sister and father have started prepping Christmas Eve dinner later in the morning while my brother-in-law engages in a PlayStation duel with my niece. After some coffee, I sit down next to my brother-in-law and, ten minutes later, end up playing Mario Brothers with them. My cell rings. Eric again. I immediately turn it off.
At seven o’clock in the evening, I glance in the mirror as I get into the shower. I look good, but I’m shattered inside. I turn on my cell and see twelve missed calls from Eric. There’s a text from David: I’ll come by for you at midnight. Be beautiful.
That, be beautiful, makes me smile. But it’s a sad smile. Weary. I lean on the sink. What’s wrong with me?
Why can’t I get Eric out of my head?
Why do I say one thing when I want another?
The answer to all of those whys is obvious. I’m madly in love with Eric, and, as Fernando says, if I don’t put my pride aside, I’m going to regret it. But I can’t. I can’t put my pride aside. I’m sick of all this foolishness, and I want my life back.
Frustrated, I decide to go get something in my room before I take my shower. Once back in the bathroom, I lock the door and put on my Aerosmith CD so I can listen to “Crazy.” I raise the volume and turn on the shower. I close my eyes and begin to move to the beat of the music, and, finally, I sit on the edge of the tub with my vibrator.
I want to fantasize.
I need to.
I keep my eyes closed while the music plays and echoes in the bathroom.
I open my legs and let my imagination fly. I invoke Eric behind me, whispering in my ear so I’ll part my legs for other men. The very idea turns me on.
My thighs separate, and, using my fingers, I open myself to show and offer what Eric, my brooding and tempting master, is asking of me.
Without hesitation, I run my fingers over my wet offering. I turn on the vibrator and bring it to my clitoris. The result is fantastic, fiery, and fabulous. An explosion of bliss consumes my body, and, when I’m about to close my legs, I imagine Eric’s voice telling me not to. I obey and breathe. Such passion.
With my eyes closed, and lying down with my legs open, I once more place the vibrator at the very center of my desire while Eric’s voice whispers to me, telling me to play and have a good time.
My body is burning and moves excitedly; I bite my lips so I won’t scream. Eric is here. Encouraging me. Telling me to come. I’m breathing so hard.
The music is playing loudly, so I let myself whisper his name just as a stellar orgasm makes me convulse.
When I recover, I open my eyes. I’m alone. Eric is just in my mind.
Somewhat more relaxed after my shower, I go back to my room. I put away the vibrator and turn on my cell. There are sixteen more missed calls from Eric.
I want to look really good for Christmas Eve and decide to wear a black dress that’s a little suggestive. Explosive. Eric will surely come by the pub later, and I want him to go mad because he doesn’t have me.
As I step out of my room, my sister sees me and stops dead in her tracks.
“Cuchufleta, what a pretty dress!”
“You like it?”
Raquel nods. “It’s beautiful, but it shows a little too much skin, don’t you think?”
I look at myself in the hall mirror. The neckline is held closed by a silver ring, and the opening goes down all the way to my belly. It’s sexy, and I know it.
“You look gorgeous!” my father says as he looks me over.
“Thank you, Papá.”
“But, sweetheart, don’t you think you’re a little exposed?”
“Papá!” I groan, annoyed.
Then my brother-in-law takes a look at me.
“Wow, Jude, you look sensational!”
I grin. I turn to my father and my sister. “That,” I say, “is all I want to hear.”
At nine thirty, we sit down to the feast my father has prepared with all his love and care. During dinner, we laugh a lot at the things my niece says. Afterward, I take a minute to retouch my makeup before I head to work. Plus, I have a date with David when I finish my shift, and I hope to have a good time. But when I return to the dining room, I’m shocked to see my entire family standing and talking with . . . Eric!
He runs his gaze over my face and then my body.
“Hello, love,” he says in greeting, but when he realizes how I’m looking back at him, he corrects himself. “Well, maybe ‘love’ is a bit much.”
I’m speechless for the moment, and when I try to respond, my sister jumps in. “Look who’s here, Cuchu. What a surprise, isn’t it?”
I don’t say a word. I narrow my eyes, and, ignoring my dad’s little smile, I go directly to the kitchen. I don’t feel well. What’s he doing here? I need water. Seconds later, my father follows me in.
“Sweetheart, he’s a good man, and he’s crazy about you. Besides . . .”
“Papá, please don’t start. We’re over.” I can’t imagine what he’d think if he knew the truth about what happened between us.
“That man loves you, don’t you see it?”
“No, Papá, I don’t see it. What’s he doing here?”
“I invited him.”
“Papá!”
“C’mon, sweetheart, stop being so stubborn for a moment and talk to him,” he says. “I’m trying to understand you, but I don’t get why you won’t talk to Eric.”
“I have nothing to say to him. Nothing.”
“Sweetheart,” he insists, “you argued. Couples argue and . . .” The doorbell rings. I look at my watch. I know who it is, and I close my eyes. My sister, followed by little Luz, rushes in.
“Judith, have you gone insane? David Guepardo is here to pick you up, and he’s in the living room with Eric.”
I start laughing nervously.
“You have two boyfriends, Auntie?” my niece asks.
“No!” I tell her.
“Then why are there two boyfriends here to pick you up?”
“Your aunt is something else!” my sister exclaims.
I want to kill Raquel. In the meantime, my father is scratching his head, evidently worried.
“Did you invite David?”
“Yes, Papá,” I respond. “I have my own plans. But you guys are a bunch of meddlers and, oh God!”
The poor man nods. He’s a little flushed. This doesn’t look good, and, without a word, he takes my niece by the hand and returns to the living room.
“What are we going to do?” Raquel asks.
I take another drink of water.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m going out with David.”
; My sister is very anxious. I’m even more so, but I fake it. I wasn’t expecting Eric to be at my father’s house.
“Eric is your boyfriend and . . .”
“He’s not my boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Then I see my sister’s eyes widen.
“Jude, you’re not going out with that guy. I won’t stand for it.”
“Eric!”
I gawk at him.
Oh God, he’s stunningly handsome!
“And who’s going to stop me?” I say, well aware of his anger and mine. “You?”
He doesn’t answer.
He just stares at me with those cold, heavenly eyes of his.
“If I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out with me to stop it, I will,” he hisses.
His words don’t surprise me, but I’m not going to let him scare me.
“Just try it and . . .”
“Jude, don’t start with me,” he says dryly.
I smile at his warning. I know my smile is just making him madder.
“My patience these days is pretty exhausted, drained, and . . .”
“Your patience?” I exclaim, aghast. “I’m the one with no patience left. You call me. You follow me. You stalk me. You show up at my work. My family insists you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not! And you say it’s your patience that’s exhausted?”
“I love you, Jude.”
“Well, too bad for you,” I respond, but I’m not so sure about what I’m saying.
“I can’t live without you,” he whispers huskily.
My sister can’t help herself and audibly sighs. Her face says it all. Eric’s romantic words have totally seduced her. I’m angry and have no desire to hear what he has to say.
“You and I are over,” I say. “What part of that do you not understand?”
“You’re coming with me,” he affirms.
“Am I?” I say, smiling with a certain cockiness.
My Iceman nods with that overwhelming confidence of his that disconcerts me.
“Yes,” he repeats.
I arch an eyebrow. I’m so irritated by the impudence he oozes out of every pore.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Eric smiles, but the expression is cold and insolent.
I shrug, daring him. I’m being a little naughty now.
Now and Forever Page 3