Page 47 of Miguel

“I would never.” The answer was immediate. “I would never let my personal life affect my job.”

The words did feel hypocritical as soon as they left my mouth. Wasn’t I doing just that? Getting my personal life and my job meddled together? Wasn’t I involving myself with Miguel, potentially putting my position at risk?

I grew frustrated with my own thought process, my own doubts and insecurities. The truth was, Iwanteda relationship. I was desperate for a family. I wanted to fill that hole of loneliness, of going home to an empty house after a long day at work. And a part of me could see that future with Miguel. Unfortunately, two warring ideas clashed in my mind and I had no idea what to do.

Thankfully, Camila didn’t call me out. She smiled, the action radiant. “Good,” she said. “Because if you hurt Zeke,thenI would have to kill you.”

I believed her completely capable, too.

“I love Zeke,” I told her. “I love all my kids. I’d never do anything to put them or their feelings in jeopardy, no matter who I’m… dating or seeing.”

She stared long and hard at me, and it made me feel like I was a bug under a microscope before she gave me a firm nod. “Good. See to it that he remains unscathed.” She tapped her fingers against the bar’s counter and then she looked over my shoulder. “Hermanito.”

I jolted, standing upright and turning in time to see Miguel coming towards us. He still wore his gray sweatpants, strung low on his hips, but he’d put on a t-shirt, though it did nothing to hide the muscles straining against the material.

“Buenos dias,” he greeted. His eyes didn’t meet mine. They went straight to Zeke, and I watched as he walked over to his son, pulling something out of his pocket as he went. He bent at Zeke’s level and took a hearing aid out of a case, adjusted it, and placed it in his son’s ear before turning it on, then doing the same to the other side. “Buenos dias,” he greeted again.

Zeke smiled and his mouth formed the words, though he didn’t speak them the way they should’ve.

Still, Miguel smiled and rubbed a hand across Zeke’s hair, and leaned forward to press a tender kiss to his forehead, then he stood up, turning to me. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

“You got him his hearing aids!”

“I did.”

“That’s great. Now we can work on building his speech. It’ll be hard but so worth it.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I can help you find a sign language teacher! I’m pretty sure I can dig up old documents from school and find the names of a few teachers who could aid us in finding the appropriate instructor for Zeke! Ooh, I think the school has resources and could–”

“That all sounds perfect, nena,” Miguel interrupted, the side of his lip twitching up into a smirk.

He wasn’t making fun of me for going off on a tangent. In fact, he stared at me like I was somehow endearing. It caused a flush to crawl up my neck.

There was a moment of silence in which we stared at each other. The air around us charged and electrified, broken up by Camila clearing her throat.

“Hermanito, I have to go to work.”

Miguel tore his gaze from me. “Crank will take you.”

Camila rolled her eyes. “I am capable of getting in a combi.”

“It’s too early for you to get on public transport alone, hermanita. Let Crank take you.”

Camila scoffed but didn’t argue further. She turned and left, and a brother I imagined was Crank followed after her, as if he’d been sitting in the shadows listening to the whole conversation. It was jarring, because I hadn’t even noticed the man’s presence. I should’ve, considering he was a giant. Massive, bulky, with a shining bald head and a thick beard. His every step was silent as he trailed after Miguel’s sister at an even pace. I didn’t miss the look she shot Crank over her shoulder, her lips twisting in a mocking smile before it disappeared.

Once they were gone, Miguel turned to me and pulled me close by the waist. “What are you doing up so early?”

The possessive hold he had on my hip made a shiver work its way down to my bones. I tried to suppress it, but my spine tingled and the breath left me on a sigh. And Miguel seemed to know what his touch did to me, because he smirked in a self-satisfied way that made me want to roll my eyes.

“I want to make breakfast.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said. “We have club putas–” His mouth snapped closed as he cast a quick glance at Zeke then back up. “We have club girls to do that.”

I frowned at him and the blatant disrespect in those words. “Don’t call them that.”

“Nena, that’s what they are. And they like to be called that.”

---