I wanther.
She makes me lose my mind and feel things I didn’t know I could feel this fast. But it’s not just lust anymore, notwith the way my chest tightens when I look at her. With every conversation, every touch, every sarcastic little comment she throws my way, I fall a little deeper.
And lying here now, with her so close and yet just out of reach, I know one thing for sure.
I don’t want this to end when we go back home.
So what do I do?
Should I talk to Noah and tell him I’m really interested in Eva? Would he believe me, trust that this isn’t some fling or game? Or should I talk to her first and see if she feels what I’m feeling?
What if she doesn’t? What if she only wants me for one night?
Hell, that would be my karma. I could see myself falling for her—hard—while she’s just looking for a little fun in the sun. A temporary escape.
But I’ll hope for the best. Hope that she feels it too.
And until then, I’ll behave. I’ll lie here, keep my hands to myself, and try not to think about the woman sleeping inches away from me, the woman who’s starting to mean more to me than I ever expected.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Eva
Iwake slowly, my body warm and completely at ease, something rare for me. It takes me a moment to realize why.
Esteban’s hands.
One is tangled gently in my hair, the other is resting on the small of my back, moving in the softest, laziest circles that make me want to melt right into him. His chest is firm beneath me, rising and falling steadily under my cheek. I don’t remember crawling on top of him in the middle of the night, but somehow this feels like the most natural place to be.
His touch is featherlight, like he’s afraid to wake me, and I stay still, selfishly soaking it in. Letting myself feel.
The rhythmic beat of his heart pounds against my ear, strong and fast. Is that because of me? Is he affected, too?
I don't dare open my eyes or speak. I just stay here, breathing in the faint scent of his skin and the remnants of his cologne from last night.
Then I hear his voice, low and husky against the hush of the morning. "Mi amor, are you awake?"
My lips curve into a smile I couldn’t fight if I tried. I finally looked it up last night, just before falling asleep—mi amor. My love.
He’s called me that more than once, and every time it does something to me. Makes my heart flutter and my stomach twist. No one’s ever called me that before. No one’s ever made me feel likethisbefore.
I stay still for another beat, pretending I haven’t heard him yet, just so I can hold onto this moment a little longer.
Because I know that once I open my eyes, everything changes.
And part of me isn’t ready to let go just yet.
“I know that you’re awake,” Esteban says, his voice low and rough from sleep.
Busted. I slowly turn my head up, meeting his beautiful green eyes, and my heart skips. How is it possible for someone to look that good first thing in the morning?
“Good morning,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for being on top of you.”
His smile is immediate—wide, warm, and just a little cocky. “I’m not complaining. Can I be honest with you?”
I nod, not trusting my breath. Not when I haven’t brushed my teeth and he’s looking at me like that.
“I think I like it. A lot. Having you in my arms feels right.”
