He smiles back at me. “Just keep me posted, okay?”
I happily agree because this gives me hope—hope that I could be something more than what I am now, hope that I could be something to someone. So, I grab my phone out of my bag and I send a message—one of many that will get me through the time and the holidays until I can see him again.
Chapter Fourteen
EVIE
“Deep Water” by Strawberry Switchblade
Ramón has become a permanent fixture in Mateo’s life, and he seems equally smitten with the old man. They have a weird connection that makes me jealous.
We spent the holidays at his house, and I’m delighted that we did. It was clear that he was indeed lonely, and I think we brought him a sense of family interactions that he was missing. For some reason, he no longer sees his son, and I don’t really know much about it. It’s not really any of my business to pry. What I do know is that he doesn’t have any other family besides him. His wife passed away, leaving him to spend his days in the company of a young man and his sister.
In a way, I think we all helped each other have a feeling of the things we miss around the holidays. This won’t last forever. When we end this, I am confident that we will have the biggest family get-togethers. But until then, I’ll be longing for the times when we can have a moment of peace all to ourselves. If I keep believing this, perhaps I can manifest it. Maybe we will even bring Ramón with us into our family—our found family.
There hasn’t been any other interest in Emma these past couple of months. Ever since Eduardo proposed and gave her a massive engagement ring, she has had a couple of people who dated Eduardo make some unsavory comments toward her about his past.
I am concerned with the woman who used to work at Eduardo's club. Cherry threatened Emma when she saw her out at a store when she and Liv were shopping. When I found out, I was livid. Adrian told us that Eduardo admitted he used to screw her at the club, and I swear if he weren’t as devoted to Emma as he is now, I would have made sure he suffered for that. It all happened before he reconnected with Emma, but the fact that she is coming at my sister because he is with Emma now is disturbing.
During Emma’s and Eduardo’s stay in Mexico over the holidays, we were surprised to discover that Philip is still alive and undercover, watching Emma’s every move. It would appear that Emma has a few people walking amongst the shadows, watching her and looking for unsuspecting threats.
Tonight will be difficult to navigate without being noticed. They are going to a gala to benefit the hospital where Liv’s husband is employed. His parents support the organization, and his mother is the chairperson for the gala. All the proceeds are utilized to provide a selected unit within the organization with state-of-the-art equipment that helps their hospital stand out in the community, making a difference in patient care.
I awoke late in the morning after spending a long night on the phone with Jameson. We have fallen asleep together, and I imagine myself sleeping next to him. I heard his light snores coming from the phone earlier, and I touched my lips and then the phone, wishing it was his mouth I was kissing before getting up from bed.
I haven’t seen him since that night when we were physically together, but we have had phone sex. We seem to be having a lot of that, and I long for the days I can have him again. I get to explore things with him that I doubt I could do in person.
I found that I know the sounds he makes before and when he comes. He tells me what he wants, and I feel empowered to give it to him. I let him tell me the things he wants to do to me, and I imagine my hands are his, moving over and inside me. The control that I desperately need is in my hands.
I don’t know if he realizes this is like therapy for me. I can only hope that when I am with him again, I can relinquish the control that I require and allow him to take it. To be able to take me and make me his in the physical sense, because I already know that I am his in my mind. We are getting to know one another, and I hate that I give him half-truths, but someday, I can tell him everything. I just hope he sticks around to learn it all, because I know we can have it all if he does.
I’m just stepping out of the shower, towel drying my hair, when I hear Mateo on the phone with someone.
“Yes, Tió. I will.” He spares a glance at me with an evil smirk while he is apparently speaking with my uncle. “She is very excited to go to the gala tonight. You know Evie. She loves a good party.”
If he hadn’t turned his face away from me, I am sure I would have punched him from spreading such vicious lies about me. He knows I hate parties. Also, there is no way that I would find attending a fundraiser to be a good time. “Tió Andrés is very concerned about the gala tonight,” Mateo says as he disconnects the call with our tió. The mocking tone is evident in his commentary.
I pick up the coffee pot and pour a mugful, noting the lack of steam rising. I touch the pot and find it’s cold.
“Ugh. No coffee?” I hold out the offending pot to Mateo.
He shrugs. “There was some earlier, but someone slept in.”
I don’t have to guess who that someone is, but it is apparent he is set on talking in riddles this ‘late’ morning. I walk with the mug to pour it down the drain but stop, thinking better of it. Instead, I just pop a cup into the microwave.
“Are you listening?” Mateo side-eyes me, but I can’t be bothered because I haven’t had my motherfuckin’ coffee yet. I will shank this bitch. Don’t even test me.
I raise my hand to halt his words because I literally can’t right now. “I need coffee first, Mateo.”
My head is hung, and my arms are slumped over, resting on the counter. The microwave chimes, and I grab my coffee from it. I lift the steamy brew up to my mouth to sip the strong cup of black coffee. I pull out one of the two barstools from the kitchen island and plop myself there. I push my shoulders back, waiting for what he has to say.
I crack my neck from side to side and look in his direction. “Okay, what?” When he doesn’t speak, I lift my arm to him, rolling my hand around so he can get on with it.
He shakes his head back and forth as if clearing a lousy memory. “I have a bad feeling about tonight.”
I continue to sip my coffee, staring at him. “What do you mean?” My eyebrows pull in, unsure of what to make of this statement.
He begins to pace around, biting his fingernails. It’s a nervous tic he has that makes me cringe at the irritating sound grating on my every nerve. His comment makes me feel uneasy. His eyes soften when they meet mine.
