“Amen,” he said, raising the taco to the empty air before he took a bite. Mara watched him, and he looked like he was in the absolute throes of ecstasy. Damn, it looked really good, and ice cream was yummy, but it wasn’t any kind of decent merienda. Jay noticed her watching and stopped mid-chew. “Are you sure you don’t want any? You seem fixated on—”
“I’m not fixated on the tacos. I’m trying to intimidate you.” Mara stepped closer to Jay, which was unfair because he was taller than her. Most people were, but she never let that stop her before. “You’re the worst, Jay Montinola.”
It did give her some satisfaction, however, to see him swallow his food like he hadn’t savored it at all. That his shoulders were practically up to his ears. That his eyes were fixed on her, and she was close enough to catch that he was wearing cologne. He smelled nice. Damn it!
“You remember my name,” he noted, and the fucker had the audacity to laugh! Like he couldn’t believe this was their life. Well, strap in, buddy. Mara had no plans of letting him slide. “That does not bode well for me.”
“Why were you trying to leave the other ballroom?” she asked. And if she was frustrated, she was very determined not to show him. “The other ballroom has everything you could need while waiting for the reception. Seating. Food. Beer.”
“Not tacos.” He snorted. Mara glared at him again, and all he could add to that statement was, “I left, because…”
“Because?” she prompted, tilting her head so he knew that whatever answer he was going to give her was not going to be satisfactory.
“Because, Mara. I was looking for you,” he said. Which, goddamnit, was a good answer. “I was looking for you, because I am the worst.”
“I already said that.”
“And I’m agreeing with you.” He lowered the now empty plate of tacos, wiping his mouth with a napkin he’d tucked underneath, then putting the soiled napkin in his pocket. “I wanted to find you and apologize. For the photo and for what I said. It was shitty of me.”
Mara took a step back, because suddenly she was too close, and it was hard to breathe when he was looking at her with such earnest contrition. She swallowed a lump in her throat, felt her hands fall from her sides. Of all the things she expected Jay Montinola to be—jerky, unapologetic, smug—she hadn’t expected contrite.
Why would she expect any of those things about a guy she met one night a year ago?
“I see,” was all she managed to say to that. “You’re…apologizing. And sweating.”
“You make me nervous.”
“Oh.” Never let it be said that Mara Jane Barretto was ever caught off guard without something to say. She had words. Not a lot of words sometimes, but words.Ohwas a word, right?
“Also I want to apologize that it took me this long to talk to you about it. I didn’t know if you want to unearth all of this, but honestly, I just didn’t want to deal with it. I was ready to accept that you just hated me. But that’s ridiculous, and such a waste of energy on both our parts.”
Jay scratched the back of his head, and god, even that looked apologetic. Like a menswear magazine cover pose, as if to say to the viewer, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you affected by my face?” To which the answer was always,yes. Mara in particular was caught off guard by the action, and yes, that was the sound of her brain short-circuiting.
“I would like to be the kind of person that tries to do better. So I went looking for you. And I found—”
“Tacos.”
“You, Mara. I found you. And now, you can do whatever you want with me.” He held his arms out to her in helpless surrender. “I deserve the worst.”
And she was not sure what it was. Maybe it was the faint scent of flowers in the room, the cool Tagaytay air making her feel out of her own body. Maybe it was Jay’s earnest words, and the chilling of her own anger. But when he looked at her and willed her to do her worst, she could…picture things. Things that came in flashes, that made her cheeks heat and her heart skip a beat. She could picture him underneath her, him smiling as she gasped, exchanging rough kisses, heartily consented touches in places only Mara herself had touched.
Tang ina?Mara had to physically shake her head to shake the images away, flouncing off and walking to the presidential table, which suddenly needed some rearrangement.What the fuck?
What she hadn’t counted on—and had forgotten to notice—was that Jay Montinola was fucking handsome. As if his mother had taken his baby self by the ankle and dipped him into a magical pool of gwapo. He had a sharp jawline and a fine nose under his longish hair. His crinkle-eyed smile was sweet, and it was the kind that made you want to smile back (she didn’t, because she hadwillpower). And she hadn’t really looked at him before, because she simply knew him as Marina’s date. But he wasn’t Marina’s date anymore, was he?
“You okay, Mara?”
Stop, she told herself, shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts.You’re just feeling sorry for yourself. Do not focus on Jay Montinola.
“I’m fine, just—”Flustered as fuck.“I need to finish this.”
She whirled around and walked to the presidential table. It was set for twelve—for their parents, David’s parents and the rest for the principal sponsors and their plus-ones. Theirs had to be the grandest setup, and Mara thought the current arrangements were a little too clustered at the center. No problem.
“Can I take photos?” Jay asked, holding up a little camera in his hand. Mara narrowed her eyes at him, as if she could suss out his true intentions. “For Marina and David. Too soon? Fine, too soon—”
“It’s fine. Not too soon.” Mara shrugged, because she was cool. She wastotallycool. She had been attracted to people before, of course. It happened to her a lot through screens, through words. But this close it was always harder, because she wasn’t used to it. Was already thinking of all the reasons why she had to tamp it down, put it away.
Why, again?
