Page 69 of The Boyfriend List
"I am. Mostly impressed by your ability to finish that much food and not gain weight." She gestures toward my two takeout boxes.
"It's because the rest of the week, I eat like a bachelor who has nothing but ketchup and Monster energy drinks in his fridge." I try not to let my hunger overpower me by eating like a starving caveman as I spoon rice into my mouth.
"True." She delicately wipes the grease off her fingers with a napkin. "What stuff were you dealing with today?"
"A…" I don't want to lie to her. I've never lied to her—unless hiding the fact that I knew about her boyfriend list counts—and doing so now would feel like I was becoming my father. "Just some family things. I don't want to bore you with the details. I'm sure you're sick of hearing about my family by now. I know I would be, andI'mthe one who has to deal with them."
"I like hearing what's on your mind, though," she says, reaching out and placing a hand on my forearm.
"I don't know if you could handle what's in my mind," I say, spinning around in my chair to face her, our knees brushing.
"Oh?" She arches an eyebrow. "Why is that?"
"You'll find out later."
Gloria shakes her head. We finish our meal with companionable banter, her occasionally stealing my wings and me letting her.
After dinner, we clean up our few dishes side by side, and my heart aches from the domesticity of it all. From how right this feels, to share a meal and a kitchen with Gloria. From how impossibly easy and simple it is to just be with her, without needing to put on a front or act like I'm happy when I'm not.
I dry our plates and silverware, and ask her, "How's the trip planning going? Have you talked to your family about it yet?"
"Not yet. I'll do that tomorrow," she says. "I'm sure they'll be excited to hear you're coming, too."
"Should I book a hotel room?" I ask. I don't know how traditional their family is.
"No, you can stay with my brother Paulo. That's what my cousin Isla did when she came to visit," she assures me.
"Are you sure your family is okay with that? I don't want to intrude on their space." Growing up, we never had friends sleep over despite having plenty of rooms in our house—none of us wanted to subject our friends to the turmoil within our family.
"No, they love having people over. And you're not just anyone, you're my…" She flushes, turning pink. "Boyfriend."
I reach out to cup her face, tracing my thumb over the blush on her cheeks, then lean forward and kiss her.
She gasps, as if she wasn't expecting it. I love that about her—-that even though I've known her for so long, so much of this is new. So much of her is new to me. Like how she tastes. Like the soft, hesitant way she rests her hand on my bicep, the gentle, unsure movements of her lips against mine.
She's been my friend for so long that I never thought I'd get the chance to be anything more than that. I love every moment we spend together, whether it's at work or carpooling or even babysitting my nieces while horseback riding, but this moment has a magic all its own.
Frustrated by the gap between us, I set my hands on her waist and lift her onto the counter. She's taken aback, her fingers digging into my biceps, her other hand curling around the back of my neck.
I love how her body tenses against mine before relaxing again, love hearing the little hitch of her breath and the sighs and gasps she makes. I want to know every hidden, vulnerable part of her, all the secrets she's never let anyone see before. I want to unravel her and piece her back together again—because that's what she's done to me.
To my heart.
She's unwound me, all the masks I wear and the insecurities I hide, and broken down my walls, transforming me into a different kaleidoscope image every time she looks at me.
We break apart, both of us breathing heavily, but she's still close, close enough that our noses brush.
"I love you," I whisper, feathering a kiss on her temple.
"I love you, too." She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck.
So why do I have the feeling this is all too good to last?
Chapter Twenty-Five: Gloria
During my lunch break at work, I'm about to call my brother Paulo and my mom to tell them about my trip when an email alert pops up on my computer. Clicking on it out of curiosity—and because part of me is dreading the interrogation I'll receive when I tell my family I'm dating someone—I read the title.
JOB POSTINGS
