Page 65 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“I am, damn it.”

“I would never tell... You won’t stop chewing your nail,” Thomas points out.

“And you keep looking behind you. What happened, you and Alexwatcheda horror movie and now you’re all paranoid?” Guilherme adds, smirking.

I let the three idiots laugh and clear my throat, getting back to talking about the Thanksgiving dinner that, since none of us are American, we’re calling afamilydinner.

“I bought the flight to get there in the afternoon...”

“Great. Because my dad’s super excited to get everyone together. Especially now that Bia’s here, and my mom arrives tomorrow morning.”

“Your mom’s really coming? Cool, man.” Richard smiles with restrained happiness.

I know he’s happy for his girlfriend. Daniele’s always missed her mom, so my best friend must be on cloud nine. But this info leaves everyone shocked. Since Guilherme moved to the U.S. with his dad, his parents' marriage isn’t really a marriage anymore, because his dad doesn’t think of coming back, and his mom wouldn’t leave her own mother, who’s already elderly, back in Brazil.

“Is your grandma coming too?” I ask, voicing everyone’s doubt.

“No. My mom decided to come because Madá decided to spend some time with some relatives in the north of the country...” Guilherme smiles with tenderness. “You know, old people stuff.”

“Dani must be in heaven,” Thomas comments thoughtfully.

“She doesn’t know!” Guilherme and Richard say at the same time.

“Well, great timing — I wasliterallyabout to text her and ask why she hadn’t told me,” I say, pulling my hand away from my phone.

“How did you know, Rick? I don’t remember telling you, was it Bia?”

It’s funny that, even after all this time, Guilherme’s still jealous of his girlfriend’s friendship with our drummer. Little does he know, he’s jealous of the wrong woman.

“No, your dad.”

“Why did my dad tell you this?” The question makes Richard tense up, and I can’t help but raise my eyebrows.

But three knocks on my door make me tell them to give me a minute.

Still facing my computer, I tell Alexandra to come in and she opens the door. The look on the three of them says everything anyone who walks by her tonight is thinking:

Alexandra looksstunning.

I turn around and come face to face with a beauty far more intense than my computer camera could ever capture.

“I’m heading out, okay? No need to wait up — I’ve got the key,” Alexandra says, flipping her hair, exposing her collarbone as she smooths down the long, tight black dress hugging her body.

“You look stunning. Do you... know where you’re going, or just planning to explore the city that never sleeps?” I force a smile, trying not to show how much this late-night outing of hers is messing with me.

I mean, she’s here under my responsibility, I should be going with her.

“Wow, you think so? Isn’t it too much? Or, I don’t know, too simple? I mean, the coat will cover most of me anyway, but...”

“Hey. Don’t worry about it,” I say, getting up and walking toward her. “You’re beautiful, and this outfit is beautiful.”

I take her hand to spin her around, and wow, she looks perfect.

Her hair half-pinned at the sides falls in layers over her bare back thanks to the dress opening to her waist. The fabric doesn’t cling to her body, but it hugs it, fitting just right in all the perfect places. I swallow hard, forcing myself not to look at the neckline – which is modest enough, but if seen from above by a guy as tall as me, it would definitely reveal the way to happiness.

“I know it’s silly, but we haven’t gone out at night yet, I have no idea how people dress around here...” she says, laughing to lighten the mood.

“Like anywhere else in the world. You look great.” I take a step back, not sure if I want to admire her beauty as a whole or if it’s the knot in my throat just thinking about her being out there alone. But I shake those thoughts off and smile. “And I don’t sleep early, you know. If you need anything, just text me. I’ll be here.”

---