Page 103 of Deep In Love
I’ve stopped wearing anything but my boxer briefs to bed, so my tattoos are on full display. There’s no reason for me to sweat to death at night in the name of chivalry any longer, and Charlie did say clothing is optional, so I’m cashing in on her offer.
Plus, I love when her eyes linger. And they do—a lot.
“It’s a line from a poem I read in a college Spanish course.” She raises a brow in silent question. “I thought the class would be easy,” I grumble, “but we were reading thirteenth century literature, which isbarelySpanish. I’m still pissed about the course grade I received. Only bad mark on my record.”
Charlie giggles, burrowing into my side and resting her head in the crook of my neck after I settle in beside her. The scent of her joint balm wafts through the air. I could spend a lifetime of moments like this with her. Quiet whispers exchanged between two people choosing each other every day.
“What’s the poem called?”
“Canción de Pirata.”
“Oh, that was hot. Say it again.”
I repeat it for her, laying the accent on thicker than necessary. I am only a man—a weak one when it comes to Charlie—and if she finds my slight accent sexy, I am going to lean into it.
“I was struggling with the idea of going to graduate school. My family couldn’t understand adding another five years of school with little pay for marine science. But one verse of the poem stuck with me. Helped me prove to myself I could chase my dream.”
“Your family doesn’t…” She trails off.
“They came around when they realized it’s what I love. It was hard for them to wrap their heads around five years of work with a verysmallstipend.”
“That’s fair.” She intertwines our fingers, placing our hands in her lap. “What’s the verse?”
“Que es mi barco mi tesoro, que es mi dios la libertad, mi ley, la fuerza y el viento, mi única patria la mar.”
“Can you translate that for us non-Spanish speakers?”
“My ship is my treasure, my god is freedom, my law, strength and the wind, my only homeland is the sea.”
My only homeland is the sea.
The line that stuck with me, reverberating through my chest when I first heard the words.
I was born in a town hundreds of miles from the sea; I had never seen the ocean until I was fifteen. But it spoke to me nonetheless. As a child, I was enthralled by documentaries of ocean exploration, fascinated by the creatures that inhabit the depths.
The ocean always called to me, a beacon guiding my life, but as Charlie rests her head on the crook of my neck, I recognize that everything has shifted; my homeland is no longer the sea.
My homeland is Charlie.
Chapter 29
Charlie
There’s a very largesomethingresting rock fucking solid against my inner thigh.
I tilt my head over my shoulder, and Mateo buries his deeper into the crook of my neck as I move around. His CPAP mask is pressed against my skin, and the tubing runs along my spine. His arm slings over my hip, curling around my stomach to drag me closer.
Before this trip, I had never woken up beside someone else—Amy excluded—and I would have sworn on Charles Darwin’s grave that I was okay with that; it was my choice. No sleepovers. Rule number one to keep things physical, and damn, it was a good rule, because right now everything is emotional.
Volatile, consuming emotions.
It’s incredibly unsettling, but I want to crawl inside Mateo’s skin just so I can feel a bit closer to him. I want to feel his hand in mine and inhale the soft, clean scent of his cologne. When he’s on the other side of the room, he’s too far away, and when he’s beside me, my head grows light and bubbly.
I’m not really sure what to do with those emotions. It’s like figuring out what to do with my hands during a presentation so I don’t look like an idiot.
Right now, I’m a relationship idiot.
I have no idea what I’m doing, or if I’m doing it right, but now I understand what a relationship feels like—how wonderfully consuming life can be with another person—and I want it. More and more everyday.
