Page 95 of In Love with the Devil

“This is Astoria Torres, my future wife.”

Sebastian smiles at me and I roll my eyes and glare at him. "He's joking," I clarify. "We are co-workers."

“Ahh!” his mom fakes a scream. “Pero que muñeca!Sorry Astoria. What I said is–” (What a doll!)

“Yo se Español. Muchas gracias, Señora Alcaraz. Es mi honor conocerla.” (I know Spanish. Thanks a lot, Mrs. Alcaraz. It’s my honor to meet you.)

“Sebastian, te ganaste la loteria.” (Sebastian, you won the lottery.)

We laugh. His grandmother walks over to me and stares into my eyes, making me feel like she’s digging into my soul. She cups my right cheek and takes my hand. “Mi niña, cuanto terror pasaste para tener tanto miedo?” (My girl. How much terror did you survive to be so scared?)

My breath gets caught and my eyes fill with tears. This woman has read me like a book. I feel naked and can't help but look at Sebastian.

“Abuela…”

“Shh. Callate.” She slaps him on the arm, then turns back to me, kisses my cheek, and hugs me. I hug her back using all my might, trying not to break down. The last time a Latina mom hugged me was… I can’t remember. I have to wipe my eyes after, and look away from all of them as the two women turn to call us for dinner.

Sebastian takes two steps over to me and offers me his hand while smiling. “Do you like the view?” He tips his chin toward the ocean.

I chuckle, finding it funny that he’s pointing at the menacing clouds I didn't believe to exist earlier. When I look back, he is close to me, too close, and his eyes are staring at my lips. My smile disappears and I turn my face away.

“Do you believe me now?"

“I’ll never believe you.”

“Sebastian, la cena.”

We both smile. I stare at my hand firmly gripped by his as we walk up the steep hill and steps to the front door. Usually I wouldn't allow him to touch me at all but with the heels I'm wearing, I'm not so confident.

“I bought this house for them ten years ago. Best purchase I ever made. My Dad’s probably watching football or as you Americans like to call it, soccer.”

I stay quiet throughout dinner but laugh every other second, almost getting no food in my mouth between his parents and grandma, arguing about every silly little thing I could think of and then gossiping about family.

His mother escorts me to my room and shows me the ensuite. It’s supposed to be a guest room, but it’s more like a master bedroom. When I finish taking a quick shower and wrap myself in a towel, the door on the other side opens and it’s Sebastian. He holds on to the top of the door frame. “I just wanted you to know that I’m right next door… if you need anything.” His eyes sweep down from my face.

He’s about to leave, closing his door, when I call, “Sebastian.” My heart hammers while my brain asks me what the fuck am I doing?

He waits for me to speak. I fist the knot, keeping the towel wrapped around my chest and bite my lip, knowing my handsare turning white from how hard I’m squeezing. “I think you’re very attractive, and tonight was… amazing." I clear my throat. "And I’m sorry I misjudged you but… even if I wanted to, nothing else can happen between us. It’s–”

He walks over to me. “It’s?”

“It’s not safe.”

He nods. "I was right. Youarerunning from someone. Who is it? Is it the Sinaloa Cartel?"

"Sinaloa? No. I'm not being chased by a cartel."

"What if it was safe?" He places his hands on my waist and stares at my mouth while waiting for my answer. "Would you want me? Would you… let me kiss those lips again?"

I slowly shake my head and take a step away. My back hits the door. "That's not reality, Sebastian."

"What are you so scared of Astoria?" His gaze drops to my hand. "Is it the guy who stabbed your hand?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Tell me."

"It's late and I'm very tired. I'll see you tomorrow." While Sebastian nods, I turn the knob on the door and slowly walk into my room. Even though he's been a decent person all day, I can't help feeling as if I just dodged a bullet.

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