The moment she sees me, she throws the packet of pasta she was about to put away to the floor, and cradles my cheeks in her small, cold hands. “Feliz cumpleaños, Diego.”
Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pull her in, and she melts into my embrace like she needed it. “Gracias, Mamá. Te quiero.¿Pero, podemos hablar de algo?”
Her eyes widen when she looks up at me. “Oh, no,mijo. I do not like this tone.”
She knows I’m going to bring up the bills, and the fact that I wasn’t even aware of any of that makes molten guilt pool in my stomach. I’m supposed to have my family’s back. I’m supposed to take care of them, yet here I am discovering they have to take cold showers once a month because Mom can’t cover the bills in time.
The realization blows up in my face like a gust of wind. If I’m cut off from the team or unable to compete again, my sponsorship deals will fall through. It means I won’t be able to provide for my family. Before I can let panic seize at my chest, I inhale calmness. I can fix this. Iwillfix this.
“Is everything okay?” Mom asks sheepishly, continuing to put the groceries away. I think it’s cute that her accent is more prominent whenever she’s troubled.
Thinking of a way to broach the subject without upsetting her, I lean the small of my back against the counter, but a plate filled with cookies catches my attention. “Did you make these?”
Mom peers back over her shoulder, following my line of sight, a little smile blooming on her face. “They’re from Alara. She just dropped them off.”
The simple mention of her name makes my heartbeat speed up. “She’s here?”
“She came to pick up Gaby. They left to go Christmas shopping.”
Fuck. I would have liked to see her, maybe pull her into my room just to taste her lips again.
Our magical moment had been cut short last night. After the man pointed to my ruined jeans, Jordan and Gaby found us, and we spent the rest of the night sneaking glances at each other and fighting our blushes.
This girl makes me act like I’m a goddamn teenager again.
I don’t know what I want, but I do know that I wantsomethingwith her. It could be a fling – hot, fun, intense – which wouldn’t lead to either of us getting attached. We both know I’m leaving soon, but I’d regret not seizing the opportunity of having a good time with this beautiful woman if I continue to draw a line between us.
Alara makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Makes me forget about all the burdens that lie heavy on me. Makes me smile, for fuck’s sake.
I’ll have to talk to her. Soon. Time is already ticking.
“. . . like her?”
I blink, suddenly realizing I’ve been staring into space and that Mom is talking to me. “Sorry?”
“Never mind.” She shakes her head and closes the fridge. “What did you want to talk about?”
As I take a seat at the table, I reach for a cookie. The specific taste of dark chocolate and pistachios blends on my tongue, a burst of flavors that makes me see stars. I slump in the chair, tilt my face to the ceiling, and groan with contentment.
“Fuck, yes. How did she even know these are my favorite cookies?”
Mom shrugs and sits down across from me. “You used to eat those every day after school during your senior year. Alara would usually steal one when she tutored Gaby.”
“She remembers that from all those years ago?” My brows shoot up in surprise.
“It appears so.”
The fact that she took the time to bake these for me this morning does something unfathomable to my stupid heart. She thought of me, and it’s such a simple act and yet it makes my pulse quicken. But when I think of her potentially doing this for another man, vines wrap themselves around my lungs, squeezing and tightening enough to make my breath stutter.
Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I getting jealous over a nonexistent man she isn’t even involved with?
Depositing the half-eaten baked good on a napkin, I dust off my fingers. “Mamá, are you having trouble with money?”
Her silence, however brief, is all the confirmation I need. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve paid a few bills a day or so late, but it’s really nothing alarming.”
I shake my head, not wanting to argue with her today. I’ve been taking care of my mom and sisters for years, and I’m not going to suddenly stop today of all days. I genuinely thought the money I transfer monthly was more than enough, but it appears it’s not. “How much more do you need to make it through the rest of the month? An extra five grand?”
“Diego—”
