Page 77 of His Secret

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

ADRIAN

After ignoring the call,I go to my room to use the bathroom and get cleaned up. My stomach rumbles with hunger, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything today. I throw on a pair of black basketball shorts and a white T-shirt with a black Nike swoosh, and head into the kitchen area.

Matías is at the window, seemingly zoned out, wearing a pair of navy blue chino shorts and a button-up shirt with a leaf print that matches his shorts.

“You look like you belong on a beach,” I say.

He turns and looks at me. “You look like you belong on a basketball court.”

I snort. “So, I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Something in his gaze tells me he’s not only talking about food. “Wanna head out?”

“Sure. Got a place in mind?”

“We’ll find something, but it can’t be here. I’ll probably run into someone I know who’ll talk my ear off about work.”

“True.”

I run back to my room to grab my wallet and phone, and then we make our way to the elevator.

Something about the silence of the elevator makes the tension grow. I think about how Matías quickly got out of bed earlier and what that could mean. I think about what we did, and the weight of that decision. And I wonder if we’re going to do it again.

“So, you okay?” I ask.

His dark eyes find mine, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah. You?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

The silence goes away when we stop on a floor where two teenage girls get on, talking non-stop about some boy. When we get to the main floor, we make our way to the street and turn right.

I follow Matías’s lead as he removes the pair of sunglasses that were hanging on his shirt and puts them on his face.

We end up walking for twenty minutes before we get to the New York-New York Hotel & Casino. Inside, Matías leads me to Nathan’s Famous.

“This good?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Once we order and get our food, we find a booth to sit at. The vibe is like a 1950s diner, with the black and white checkered floor, and the red and white tables and chairs.

While we eat, I feel Matías’s leg against mine. We both look up at the same time, but neither of us moves away.

“How’s your mom?” I ask him.

He smiles. “She’s good. Remarried now. She and her husband moved about an hour closer to me.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah, it is.” He finishes chewing some fries. “How’s yoursister?”

“She’s living in Indianapolis now. She’s a corporate lawyer down there.”

“Wow. You talk often?”

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