She couldn’t believe how woozy she felt. Not drunk. But fuzzy around the edges. She hoped the brisk night air would clear her head, but the five-minute walk back to Rafael’s apartment complex didn’t give her enough time to recover.
She leaned against her car and took a deep breath. “I can’t drive. I’ll have to call an Uber.” When she checked her screen, she groaned. “Thirty-minute wait time? Are you kidding?” Her teeth chattered as the wind picked up. If she’d known it was going to be this chilly, she would have brought a coat.
“Do you want to come inside?” Rafael said.
She didn’t want to wait in the cold, but she couldn’t risk anyone catching them together. “What about your cousins? Don’t they live with you?”
“They should be asleep by now. Unlike me, they have work on Monday morning. But I can go in first to make sure the coast is clear.”
She checked her phone again. Now the wait time was forty minutes. “Okay. Just until my ride gets here.”
He took her arm. “I’d offer to drive you home, but I had two beers. I can’t risk getting pulled over.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He led her up the stairs, and she waited outside while he unlocked the door. A moment later, he emerged, giving a thumbs-up. “It’s all good. Let me help you. I don’t want to turn on the light.”
She stumbled again as she made her way into the apartment, grateful for the support of his arm. In the darkness, she could barely make out anything, and she cursed under her breath when she walked into a chair. For a heart-pounding moment, she stopped cold, barely daring to breathe. But the place was silent, save for the ticking of a clock. When they reached Rafael’s bedroom, he shut the door behind them and turned on a bedside lamp, flooding the room with a soft glow.
The room was dominated by a king bed with a navy comforter, adorned with a pile of embroidered pillows. She picked up a pink one and smirked. “Rosé all day? Wouldn’t have taken you for a wine mom.”
“One of Araceli’s passion projects, a few years ago. Everyone in the family ended up with them that Christmas.”
“Cute.” She pushed aside a pillow embroidered with the words “Kiss the Cook” and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you think I could get some water? It might help clear my head.”
“Sure. Hang on.” He crept out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Victoria bent down and took off her heels. But when she straightened up, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She lay down and closed her eyes, hoping the feeling would pass.
* * *
Rafael turnedon the kitchen light and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. A tap on his shoulder made him jump, and the bottle tumbled from his hands.
“Whoa. Chill out, dude.” Dario stood beside him, dressed in a Padres t-shirt and a pair of ratty pajama bottoms. Like his brother Ernesto, he was tall, lean, and prone to a scruffy, three-day beard growth.
As Rafael bent down to pick up the water bottle, panic flooded through him. Had he left the bedroom door open? Was Victoria visible? “I…ah…was just getting some water. What’s up?”
“Needed a little late-night snack.” Dario opened the fridge, took out a container, and grimaced as he peeked into it. “This shit’s nasty.” He shoved it back inside.
Rafael reached around him and removed the container. “Don’t put it back in there. I’ll clean it out tomorrow.” He inched backward, hoping to avoid further conversation.
Dario was still watching him. “How was that thing at Araceli’s? You get all that shit done for the wedding?”
“For the most part. It’s looking good.”
“Did Victoria show up?”
He froze in place. “Wh…why would you think she’d be there?”
Dario tilted his head to the side, like he couldn’t believe Rafael was that clueless. “Isn’t she coordinating the wedding?”
Duh. “Right. She came for a bit. Helped out with the gingerbread houses.” He held up the water bottle. “I…I should get to bed. I’m wiped.”
But Dario had already lost interest. He poked his head back into the fridge. “Okay if I eat these leftover enchiladas?”
“Go for it.” Rafael hustled back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Victoria lay on his bed, fast asleep, her purse tucked under her arm. She must have been more looped than he thought. Either that, or the combination of exhaustion and alcohol had knocked her out.
