Page 98 of Picture Perfect

Carmen slips by us toward what I assume is her bedroom.

"Addy," Chess begins, his voice carrying a weight that makes my heart stutter. Before I can respond, he steps forward, closing the gap between us. His lips press against mine in a kiss filled with a fervor that sets my veins alight. It's not just a brush of mouths, but a meeting of souls that have been dancing around each other, hesitant to collide.

His hands cup my face gently, as if I'm something precious, and I realize that I don't want him to stop. Not now, not when his kiss speaks of apologies, promises, and a hope for something more.

I lean into him, returning the passion, letting it sweep away doubts and fears. For a moment, there's no Saint, no Dre, no complicated ties—just Chess and the undeniable truth that in his arms, I feel a dangerous sense of belonging.

When Carmen returns with her clothes, I walk her through what to do. I explain the difference between pads and tampons and how often she'll need to change it and anything else I can think of.

Once she's dressed, we head to the living room. I help her onto the couch, tucking a cushion behind her back.

"Here, lay down for a bit," I encourage. Carmen complies, curling up under the throw blanket I drape over her. She seems so young in that moment, and I'm struck by how much we've all had to grow up too fast.

A little while later, the front door creaks open, and we all startle as Chess's grandmother steps into the living room. She's a small woman with kind, crinkled eyes that widen in surprise when they land on me.

"Chess, mijo, quien es esta hermosa joven?" she asks, her gaze soft but curious as she sets down a bag of groceries.

"Abuela, this is Addy," Chess says quickly, standing up and going to help her with the bags.

"She's basically my hero," Carmen chimes in.

"Mucho gusto, Addy." Abuela smiles warmly at me, extending a hand which I shake gently. Her presence is comforting, like a warm blanket wrapped around a shivering body.

"Gracias, señora," I reply, my tongue heavy with the unfamiliar language.

"Call me Abuela, everyone does," she insists, patting my hand before letting it go.

"Abuela, Carmen had an emergency," Chess explains, his voice steady, though I can hear the undercurrent of worry that had gripped him earlier. "A...female emergency. Addy was there for her when I couldn't be. She knew exactly what to do."

"Ah, mi niña," Abuela sighs, her eyes shifting over to where Carmen lays cocooned in blankets on the couch. She crosses the room to press a kiss to Carmen’s forehead and then turns back to me. "Muchas gracias, Addy. You have a good heart."

"Anyone would've done the same," I say, feeling the weight of her gratitude. It feels undeserved, considering the chaos that usually surrounds me.

"Stay for dinner, sí? I make extra." she asks, already moving towards the kitchen. "It's the least we can do."

I hesitate, aware of the Winthrops' expectations, their strict schedules and stricter rules. But then I think of Carmen's scared face, of Chess's fervent kiss, and I know I want to stay, if only for a little while longer.

"Sure, I'd like that," I answer, and Abuela's smile tells me I've made the right choice. "But I should probably call my parents."

"Of course, use the phone in the kitchen, querida," Abuela says, waving a hand toward the archway that leads to a cozy, spice-scented room.

"Thank you," I murmur, feeling a strange sense of inclusion in this home that's so different from my own.

I don't need the phone in the kitchen with my cell, but it's sweet that she offered.

Chess follows me, hovering nearby as I dial the familiar number, preparing myself for the coldness on the other end. My parents won't understand, but in this moment, with the warmth of Abuela's welcome still lingering, I find that I don't mind as much as I thought I would.

Chapter forty-five

Chess

My gaze locks onto Addy, and it's like I'm seeing her for the first time. She's leaning against the kitchen counter, laughing at something Carmen says, but all I can think about is how she stepped up for my little sister. It was like watching some Nordic warrior goddess descend, all fierce green eyes and protective stance. The way she comforted Carmen and gave her exactly what she needed made something inside me click into place, a piece I didn't even know was missing.

"Addy," Abuela coos, her voice slicing through my thoughts, "stay for dinner, sí? I make extra."

There's a flutter in my chest, a need that has nothing to do with hunger—at least not for food. When Addy steps off to speak with her parents, I make my move. "Actually, Abuela," I interject before Addy can answer, "we've got this massive project due tomorrow. Totally slipped my mind."

Abuela raises an eyebrow, but there's a twinkle in her dark eyes like she knows I'm up to something. "Homework, eh? Bueno, you two work on that. Dinner in one hour."

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