Diego has been participating in numerous activities across town lately. He came with me and Gaby to the local library the other night, and we read Christmas stories to children. Though he’d stayed in the back, he listened attentively. He also wanted to take part in the amateur bake-off with Jordan. They attempted to make a panettone, and I’ll leave it to the imagination how it went (spoiler alert: not great). The intention was there, and they did make the public laugh with their dramatics.
Diego’s back to being the Diego I crushed on ten years ago. He loves making people smile and laugh, he’s optimistic and energetic. Electric. Fun.
Watching him find comfort in the town he grew up in has been beautiful to witness. It looks like he’s home again. Like he doesn’t want to leave – but maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me.
After applying a layer of lipstick, I snatch my long woolen coat and dash out of the door, my heels in hand and Ugg boots on my feet just for the short journey to the house.
The aromas of herbs and spices assault my senses as soon as I step inside the kitchen. Mom is checking on the lamb that’s slowly cooking, an apron tied over her classy jumpsuit. I notice the veggie roast she specifically made for me, sparking my appetite.
“Hi, sweetie.” She greets me with a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
My black halter-neck dress that reaches the middle of mythighs is paired with the high heels I’m currently stepping into. I’ve let my hair loose – the way Diego loves it – though it is styled in waves floating down my back.
“You don’t look too bad,” Jordan offers, as he enters the kitchen, dressed in a regal suit. He looks like he’s about to do business. “Trying to impress someone? Diego, perhaps?”
I busy myself with hanging my coat by the front door to hide my flushing face from my brother. Diego and I have been extra careful around our families and friends, except for a slip-up or two – for example, that time when Jordan found Diego lying on top of me in Rock Snow’s backyard. We were so freaking obvious, but Jordan hasn’t mentioned it.
And, yes, Mom and Dad know, but they promised to keep the secret to themselves.
Feeling reckless, I test out the waters. With a casual shrug, I step in front of him while Mom unties her apron, a knowing smile on her lips. Her internal radar is probably telling her that the Ramirezes will be here anytime now. “What if that’s my plan?” I ask nonchalantly.
Jordan’s expression is indecipherable. “Go for it. I don’t care. You’re a big girl, D’s a big guy, and he’s great. You already have a good chemistry, so why not explore things further?”
What?
That was easy.
“He’s leaving,” I point out, feeling my palms starting to sweat as I listen to a car parking in the driveway.
“Is he?” Then, he’s off to open the door to greet our guests, and I have no fucking clue what he means by those two words.
Mom gives me a cheeky grin and follows Dad to the foyer.
I take a breath, trying to rein in my nervousness and wishing my heart would stop pounding so erratically. My hands are already trembling from anticipation, because I know how hardit’ll be to pretend I’m just Diego’s friend tonight. How hard it’ll be for him to keep his hands to himself.
I listen to the commotion in the foyer, Gaby’s laugh booming louder than others, and fix my hair for the thousandth time.
“Alara!” Valentina gasps, and I turn around to smile at her. “You’re stunning!”
She’s handing me a Christmas rose that I deposit on the island before giving her a quick hug. “I love what you did to your hair.”
It’s usually straight, like Gaby’s, but tonight she’s wearing it curly. She thanks me for the compliment, then wanders off into the living room, where music is playing on the record player. Fire is burning in the hearth, and I just know it’s going to be a great night. It means a lot that my parents invited them – I know the holiday season is hard for them, and that it doesn’t get any easier, so if we can make it better for them this year, then we’ll do everything in our power to help them have a good time.
Gaby tackles me in a long hug. “Mi reina, you look amazing.”
I compliment her on the dress she’s chosen – a long one with a slit on the right leg – which my brother seems to appreciate. I narrow my eyes at Jordan when he passes by me, and he just shrugs, mouthingwhat?
Mrs Ramirez enters the kitchen with a dish in hand and kisses me on both cheeks. “You’re beautiful, as always. Look, I madetres lechesand, if you want to stop by tomorrow, I’ll makepozole.”
I take the plate from her hands and set it down on the countertop. “Thank you so much, but we’re having lunch at my grandparents’.”
She nods and goes to find my mom.
And then, when I go into the foyer as everyone settles in the living room, I think I might faint.
Diego’s fixing his hair in the mirror by the dresser next tothe shoe rack, wearing a fitted white shirt and dress pants. As though he can feel my gaze burning through his back, he turns around, and I swear he loses balance as his mouth parts.
It all happens in slow motion. His eyes travel from my feet, up my bare legs, halting for a beat at my thighs, before continuing up until they reach my face. He blows out a breath, and steps toward me. “Alara,” he whispers raspily. “You look— Wow— You— Damn.”
