“Thanks,” she said as I indicated she could keep the soiled piece of linen she was attempting to hand me back. “How long has it been since you got your head out of your ass?”
I bypassed pretending to not understand the question since I needed all my mental energy focused on ruining my best friend. “Tuesday night,” I muttered in frustration. “And since then he’s been depriving us both of perfectly good sex because he’s trying to ‘save me from myself’ by denying me access to his dick.” I was going to grit my teeth down to dust if Yariel kept this shit up.
“Figures,” she said, amused. “You’re clueless, and him with his ‘I am an island’ thing.”
I looked around before I moved close enough to whisper furiously in her ear, “Did everyone in the fucking world know that Yariel and I were soulmates except for me?”
She let out another throaty laugh and tipped her glass in Yariel’s direction. “That man has always looked at you like you hung the moon. If you couldn’t tell, you weren’t looking very closely.” Again, I was not going to argue, because it was more like I had been actively avoiding noticing. “He’s always been pretty passive about it, though, like he was resigned.” My stomach dropped hearing that. I’d been such a fucking dummy. “But tonight his vibe is pretty menacing. He’s been sending people looks like he would tear up this whole fucking place if anyone dares to lay a finger of you.”
At the moment he was being cornered by two older men who, given where we were, probably owned half of the island. But Yari wasn’t even trying to pay attention to whatever they were saying—he was too busy glaring in our direction. His eyes seemed to be particularly focused on the sliver of space separating Chantal and me.
Jealous, baby?You better fucking be.
“Damn, that’s hot. Even I’m getting hit with the pheromones, and dudes are not my jam.” Chantal got even closer, and cupped her hand around her mouth for the next part. “FYI, Amir’s here this weekend and he’s throwing a party at his place. I’m going there after this. I’ve been kind of dating one of the news anchors on DRTV and she’s going to be there. If you want to really make him sweat, there will be plenty of willing participants to help you get him there.”
I laughed at the deviousness in her voice and turned to look at her. “So you’re not even going to pretend to be surprised that Yariel and I hooked up?” I asked, with more disbelief than concern.
She shifted her gaze from the cluster of men surrounding my best friend to look at me. “Am I supposed to be? What’s so monumental about two people with the connection you have getting together?”
I held Chantal’s words for a second, took in the truth in them. The wonder that it was to hear them from a friend here in the DR, where for some reason I’d envisioned derision at every turn. In truth, I’d braced for it. Told myself I was okay with the outcome. That if I got to have Yariel, I’d deal.
But now I saw my friend standing solidly here. Living her life as a queer woman in the DR and telling me I didn’t need to run away from who I was. It pried something open in me.
When I finally spoke my voice cracked just a tiny bit on the first words. “Nothing and everything,” I said, with a flustered laugh, as I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I just need to convince that big-ass stubborn mess, that we’ll be fine if we do this.”
Chantal stepped back from me, and the glint in her eyes told me something was happening, “You might get your first chance right now, because he’s coming over here and he looks like he’s about Hulk out on somebody.”
I turned and immediately my breath started coming in short puffs as I watched him cross the large room with his eyes zeroed in on my face. His shoulders were back, chest out. That big body honed to perfection, making its way to me like I was True North.
But what had me sweating were his eyes. The fire there was familiar. It was a look I’d confused with concentration or focus in the past. And itwasfocus, but it was focus on me,justme. That was his “eso es mio” look. And if he was too stubborn to admit that’s what he was thinking, I’d force it out of him. Even if I had to resort to desperate measures.
“Yari,” I said as pleasantly as I could manage while he sent withering looks to the spot where Chantal had slid her arm around mine. “This is my friend, Chantal. Do you remember her?”
And because Chantal loved to start shit, she plastered herself against me before turning her face up to Yariel for a kiss hello. “Hatuey and I were just catching up—we used to be thick as thieves in college.” She pouted adorably in her shimmery skin-tight dress that highlighted every one of her curves. “I miss him.” She was a beautiful woman, and if she was not one-hundred percent Team Lady, I’d probably had tried with her. Of course, Yariel didn’t seem to recall that fact and was flaring his nostrils like a pissed-off, six-foot-seven angry bull.
He practically smacked his face to hers and grunted out what I supposed was a hello, then immediately went back to trying to burn her arm out of its socket with his eyeballs.
“I lost you.” Where was all this growling coming from? And why did he have to look this good even when he was telling a bald-faced lie?
“You seemed like you had your eye on him from over there,” Chantal suggested sweetly, as she tightened her grip on my arm, eliciting a flutter in Yariel’s jaw that was starting to worry and delight me.
“I was trying to find him so we could get going.” He angled his chin in the direction of the triumvirate of older dudes he’d cut lose. “I was saying my goodbyes to Mr. Bermudez, but now that I’ve made my appearance we can head out.” He looked at his Cartier watch and back at me. “It’s almost ten and we have the tournament tomorrow.
I rolled my eyes at his grumpy ass. Like this was a real tournament and not just a chance for the Dominican one percent to play golf with celebrities. “It doesn’t start until noon, Yariel,” I countered, now for some reason determined to not come home. I loosened my grip on Chantal and slid my hands in my pockets, inching a bit closer to him. “Chantal is going to a party at a friend’s villa. It’s close to ours, right?” I fluttered my eyelashes and looked up at him, as I waited for Chantal’s answer, yep, he was sweating.
Chantal who, bless her, had seemingly been to this rodeo many a time, nodded and pointed in the direction of the golf carts, which were lined up to take guests back to their lodgings. “Yeah, you’re in Las Brisas, and Amir’s villa is like a five-minute walk from you. But he’ll have carts there to take people home.” She smiled wickedly then. “It should be averyfun time. He brought the DJ in from New York just for this party.”
“What do you say? You up for some fun?” I wasn’t being flirty exactly—I was just being me. ThemeI always was withhimand I’d felt like I couldn’t be for the past few days. But I wanted him to see that even if we became a different version of us, it would be a better one. The stuff that made ususwould always be there.
“We can do some people-watching and then bed.” That last part came out more suggestive than intended. He hesitated for a second, looking genuinely conflicted, but after a moment he dropped his shoulders and nodded.
“Fine, but just for a little bit.” Those grunts were really going to fuck me up.
He stood to the side and waved an arm, indicating Chantal should lead the way. We started walking and she leaned in to whisper something in my ear as he followed us. I could almost feel the heat of his stare prickling the back of my neck. “I was serious before, if you really want to rile him up. You’ll have plenty of chances there. Amir’s parties are notorious.”
“Oh.” I looked over my shoulder to find him staring at us like he was already regretting the decision to go to the party. Lucky for me I was certain of one thing Yariel Cabral would never do: break a promise to me.
Chapter 8
