I laughed against the top of her head, but the sound came out strained. I was fighting not to break down in front of her—everything she thought about me, said about me, did for me meant so fucking much. More than she could ever know.
“Speaking of traveling,” I said, “when are you free? I want to go to Spain for the holidays, but only if you come with me.”
After the holidays I’d be buried in prep for the racing season, but nothing mattered more than spending a few weeks with her—our first real vacation as a couple. I wanted her to meet Grandma, walk the streets where I’d grown up. She was my future, but I needed her to see my past too.
“As soon as classes are over in December,” Kaia said. “And of course, I’d love to travel with you. I’ve dreamed about Spain for years.”
“Then we’ll go.” I tightened my arms around her.
A comfortable silence stretched between us.
“Ash,” Kaia whispered.
“What?”
“Do you think Ethan will be at the Thanksgiving gala?”
Fucking Ethan. His presence alone was reason enough to skip it. “I’m sure he will. Why?”
Kaia giggled. “I poured a red cocktail over his tan suit at my father’s wedding. Served the asshole right for all the trouble he caused you.”
My chest swelled. “Peque, peque,” I murmured. “I think I’ll run to the store. There’s no fucking way I’m letting you leave tonight.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Kaia
“Don’t fidget,” Alba said, sliding another pin into my low bun. “We need it to hold.”
“What would I do without you, Albita?”
“Be pregnant.” She spritzed my hair generously with hairspray. “Because I’m the buffer between you, Asher, and the three children you’re too young to have.”
I giggled. “Thank you on behalf of my careless youth. And you’re being dramatic. I only stayed at his place for—”
“Ten nights in the last two weeks. And you were here on the other four only because I emotionally blackmailed you into staying.”
“I love you for it, but in my defense, I’ll barely see him once the racing season starts. We’re making up for past and future lost time.”
Alba hopped off the couch, giggling. “All done. You look like someone about to shock her father.”
I gave her a double thumbs-up. “Mission accomplished, then—but I’m not making my relationship with Ash official today just to spite him.”
Alba gathered the pins and brushes from the low table, shrugging. “Who’d judge you if you were? What he did was beyond shitty. I can’t imagine my dad reading my diary or making the guy who loves me leave me. Your father can’t do that and expect you to do nothing.”
“I’m just sick of hiding.” I grabbed my black clutch and dropped a tube of lip gloss inside. “Ash and I did nothing wrong.”
“You’re adults,” Alba said as the trill of the intercom echoed through the apartment. “Your father will have to accept your relationship, or he’ll lose his only child.”
Losing me hardly worried him. Not being able to control me was worse for someone whose parenting had only two modes—criticism and indifference.
I rushed to the foyer to let Asher in. He’d drive us to Stetbourg.
When he stepped inside—breathtaking in a black suit with a crisp white shirt—I moved straight into his arms.
“Preciosa,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hip. “Ready?”
“She is.” Alba handed me my purse. “Please deliver her home after the gala. She’s got a needy best friend who needs company.”
