Page 47 of Sombra
Kim gives me a smile. “I like you knowing. It means we can talk to each other about anything. It makes you more my friend.”
Friend. That’s the last thing I want.
And with that word, she reminds me that she has a ring on her finger. And I will not step into any opening without her permission.
She yawns, an adorable, sweet yawn like a kitten. “Sorry.”
“I’ll letyou sleep.” I get up off her bed and she walks me to the door.
We regard each other in the dark hallway, then she gives me a small smile, reaches up on her tiptoes, and kisses each of my cheeks lightly. “Good night, Tavo. Sleep well.”
Kisses. From Kim.
“Buenas noches.”
Dropping her eyes, she excuses herself, goes in her room, and shuts the door. I stand in the hallwayfor too long until I finally slink away. When I get back to my room, I check my email. A new reply waits from my cousin.
De:William Thrash
Para: Gustavo de la Guerra
Fecha: 2 de septiembre
Asunto: Asunto: Woman
Tavo,
Nope.She’s someone else’s. Better find another.
Will.
I tapmy fingers on the desk.
Me cago en la leche.
I’m waitingfor the coffee to brew in the kitchen the next morning when Kim walks in, still in her small sleep shorts.
“Morning, Tavo!” Kim coos, chipper as a warbler perched on a branch, catching my eye with a grin. Then her eyes travelfrom my face on down my body, and she does the most comical double take, with her eyelids flying open and her head jerking back. I’m shirtless in gray sweatpants that don’t hide a thing, and she’s checking me out.
I don’t mind. Especially not after last night. Maybe she’ll decide to put that ring away.
My plan was just to get a cup of coffee and go out into the huerta. But my plansare easily thwarted by an All-American girl with a ponytail and a tank top.
Dios. It’s early, and I’m already done for.
She passes me, headed to the counter for a mug, and I feel the cool morning air move as she goes by. I can’t help but let my head swivel to inspect her gorgeous, rounded ass and curvy legs, as she’s reaching to the shelf. She doesn’t know I’m looking, and I takemy time, lingering on her smooth, pale skin.
Well, fuck. There’s my morning wood saying hola.
I press up against the stovetop, hiding my oncoming bulge from Kim on the pretext of checking to see if the percolator is going, but nope. It’s slow this morning. The water hasn’t boiled, perhaps because it’s being watched.
I can’t turn around and talk to her, because she’ll see myindiscretion.
“Is it okay if I make a fruit salad?” she asks.
“Of course.” Without moving, without taking my pelvis away from the stove, I gesture over to the cutting board and fruit. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks!” She retrieves a cutting board and a knife and sets up on the counter closest to me. I’m about to open my mouth when—
