“I do. Today is supposed to be about her. I need to make her happy. She’s done everything for me, and if she finds out about us?—”
“You don’t think she’ll be happy?” He knew it might be awkward for Alma, maybe a little uncomfortable at first as she adjusted to this new development. It had been enough to deter him from making a move earlier and complicating everything, but now that the move had been made, surely Alma wouldn’t be too bothered by his interest in Grace.
Grace shook her head, lines wrinkling across her forehead. “Um, no. I don’t think so. Anyway, it will distract from my mission as her best friend.”
“What about my mission?” he asked, dipping his head toward her, eyes on her mouth.
“Wh-what’s your mission?” At the distant sound of the toilet flushing, Grace jumped up and moved away from him, grabbing her glass and looking around for the champagne bottle. He snatched it up and dangled it in front of her, but she took it out of his hands and scooted away from him quickly.
Rafael really wished they’d had that conversation about what all of this meant, because he was getting more uncertain by the minute. Did she not want to tell Alma because she didn’t have feelings for him? Because he was just a fun lay, and he meant nothing to her? Was she just waiting for the right time? He’d never had this many questions about a woman in his life.
“Have we figured out a plan?” Alma asked as she charged back into the room.
He hadn’t figured out a plan. In fact, it seemed all his plans had been knocked entirely off course, because the only thing he wanted to do this weekend was get Graciela naked in his bed again, her leg draped over his thighs as he traced circles on her skin. They could talk about everything then—about art and monasteries, cooking shows and Spanish history, about what all of this meant. Obviously, it didn’t look like that would be happening anytime soon, but it was quite clear that it would be damn near impossible to think about anything else.
“No plan yet,” Grace said before taking a long gulp of champagne.
They’d had a surprisingly pleasant day. Rafael had joined Grace and Alma in their morning festivities, and they drank more champagne than anyone ever should on a Sunday morning. They took a walk around the neighborhood, stumbling occasionally, and then they napped until late afternoon. Rafael would have preferred to nap with Grace snuggled up next to him, but he still woke up refreshed and happy, excited that he would get to see her again so soon.
And he did. She had already been awake and reading on the couch when he had emerged, and he couldn’t help but notice she was also finally,mercifully, alone.
“Did you sleep?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“I basically passed out.”
He laughed, inching closer. “Where’s Alma?”
Grace paused, looking at him, biting her lip. “Still sleeping.”
“Good,” he said, leaning toward her, giving her plenty of time to protest if she wanted to avoid him. Instead, she closed the distance between them in an instant, surprising him with the voracity of her lips on his. He exhaled as she melted against him.
It felt…right.
But then Grace pulled away too soon, smiling. “It’s going to be hard to stay away from you when Alma’s here.”
“About that, where did we land on inviting Obinna over and forcing them to make up immediately?”
“I think they both need a little more time to figure it out.”
Rafael pressed his lips to Grace’s neck. “Well, for my sake, let’s hope that happens soon.”
Grace shook her head. “For your sake?”
“I don’t know how long you think I’ll be able to stay away from you, Graciela, but I feel like I’m already at my limit.”
Grace leaned into his touch, her breath heavy. “I know what you mean, but Alma...”
“I know,” Rafael nodded against Grace’s shoulder. “I know. Iamworried about her. I’ve never seen her like this in our entire lives. I’m not sure how to help her, but she needs us. This morning was a good start. You got her laughing at least.”
Grace put her hands in her lap. “The champagne got her laughing, but it’s something.”
“I know it will all work out for her,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “But she needs us to help her through it. After she would have a fight with our mother, we would always hide in the linen closet and eat popsicles together, complaining about everything and throwing the hand towels on the floor with our sticky fingers. She just needed someone there with her, someone to be on her side no matter what.”
Grace leaned back and searched his face, as if assessing him with fresh eyes.
“What?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m just imagining you as a child wreaking havoc on the laundry.”
