“I don’t want you to stop.” I meet him with every nip and swipe of his tongue as we maul each other for a few minutes, forcing me to drop my bag on the tile floor beneath us.
Borderline panting, Javier forces us apart. “Fuck. Okay, we need to stop otherwise I’m gonna burn dinner and I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“Well, I am starving.”
“Okay. Let’s eat and then we can pick that back up later.” He presses a kiss to my nose and the move makes me want to cry. This broody man I met two months ago is putting moves on me like that one, and part of me wonders if this is the same person standing in front of me?
As Javier walks back to the stove, I pick up my bag and place it near the couch.
“You can put your stuff in my room if you want,” he calls over his shoulder, so I follow through with his suggestion. As I walk back down the hallway, I glance in the rooms I pass and notice the living room and kitchen are now complete as well, including all of the tile.
“Javi, did you finish the house?”
He turns to face me again, with a prideful smile. “Yeah, last week.”
“Oh. I guess … I guess I didn’t notice the other night.”
“Yeah, well, there were other things to be focused on. Are you thirsty? I have beer and I bought some wine. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“Wine would be great.”
“White or red?”
“Well, what are we having?”
Javi grins and then takes the lid off of a sauté pan. “Pan seared scallops, mushroom risotto, and grilled asparagus.”
“Uh, holy shit! You can cook?”
His laugh travels through the kitchen and hits me right in the chest. I never knew he had such a deep but vibrant laugh that could light me up on the inside.
“Yeah. I spent a lot of time watching The Food Network in prison. It was one of the only channels we got on the little television in the community room. I took a lot of notes and when I got out, I decided to try a few recipes. This is one I’ve perfected, so I wanted to make it for you.”
So much of what he said swirls around in my brain—particularly him mentioning his time in prison. “Oh. Well, I can’t wait to try it.”
He clears his throat as if he realized what he said so casually and then changes the topic instantly. “So red or white?”
“What?” I shake my head, firing my brain to concentrate back on him and not the bomb he just dropped. “Oh, white please. Goes better with seafood.”
“I agree.” He moves around the kitchen flawlessly and then presents me with a glass. “Here.”
“Thank you.” I take a sip and savor the flavor once it hits the back of my tongue. I take a seat at the counter and watch Javi finish up the meal.
“So, how was your day?”
“Ugh, long. I couldn’t wait to come over here.”
“Me too, Princess.” He turns with two plates in hand and directs me to the table with a flick of his head.
As we settle in and I take the first bite, I’m blown away at the flavor. “This is incredible, Javi. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, babe. I was nervous. I’ve … never cooked for anyone before…” He stares down at his plate, the hard exterior I’ve grown to recognize sliding over his entire demeanor.
“Not even Andre and Selena?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Selena is a boss in the kitchen. She wouldn’t let me in even if I tried.” He’s joking which lightens his mood a bit, but then he slips back down.
“Javi, is something wrong?”
He huffs and then leans back in his chair, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth. “I don’t know how to do this, Sydney.”
“Do what? Have dinner?”
“No. Date. Talk to you. I feel like I don’t know what to say. I’m so fucking happy you’re here, but then in the back of my mind, I feel like there’s a stick of dynamite that’s waiting to be ignited, threatening to explode and ruin the evening.”
“We’ve talked before, Javi. This is no different. What are you afraid is going to ruin everything?” I reach for my wine, trying to drown my nerves with alcohol. I knew Javier was uneasy, but I didn’t realize he was this stressed and tense.
“Like the past.” His eyes lift and find mine, and I sense his concern.
“Okay. Well, how about we just start small. Tell me about your childhood. What you were like back in school since I didn’t really know you existed then?” I offer him a sweet and comforting smile, but I can tell he’s still hesitant.
Running his hand through his hair, he picks up his fork again and dives back into his food. “Okay. I can do that, I guess. Well, my mom is from Texas. She’s white actually. And my dad came here from Puerto Rico.”
“Ah. Okay, I was gonna ask where your family is from because I wasn’t sure how Latin you were.” I wink at him across the table.
“Yeah. I got the dark skin to a certain extent from my dad, but my mom’s whiteness likes to shine through too.”
“Can I just say that your ethnicity is part of what draws me to you, Javi.”
His lips tip up. “I’m pretty sure you’re white as can be, Princess, but I’m drawn to you too.”
I smile and continue eating. “Okay, so what about in school? What was Javier Montes doing while I was busy doing … well, everything.”
He scoffs and then answers. “Well, after my dad died, I went through a hard time, which I guess isn’t surprising. I got into smoking pot, drinking… you name it, I tried it. My group of friends were from this side of town, a little rough around the edges, down to see what kind of trouble we could get into. When I was sixteen, I got caught
