Page 126 of Deep In Love
“I told you the tension was off the charts,” Amy exclaims.
The video continues, and my chest pounds as every moment between us plays out; a memory to keep forever.
Lingering glances.
Subtle touches.
Stolen kisses.
There’s video footage of Charlie victory dancing after she beat me in go-fish, and quiet moments shared in the lab, working shoulder to shoulder. Mornings spent on our computers, surrounded by chocolate wrappers. Doug captured us lying beneath the stars, our makeshift picnic spread out across the deck.
By the end of it, Amy is sobbing, her arms wrapped around Charlie and me. Amy rattles on and on about how beautiful it is and how amazing love can be, and Charlie clicks her tongue.
I squeeze her thigh again, and a smile blooms, warming my chest like a steaming bowl of my abuela’s pozole on a frigid night.
The video plays on—a montage of every time a piece of my heart became hers.
It’s the evolution of love.
Chapter 36
Charlie
If I hadn’t already told Mateo I love him, I would do it right now.
He extends me an iced latte and falls into the chair beside mine, across from Cheryl’s desk. His hand lands on my thigh—a comforting touch—as our advisors watch us with hyper focus.
We’re meant to debrief them about the trip, but Cheryl won’t stop smiling or staring at Mateo and me like a lunatic.
She’s a wonderful advisor, but she’s starting to give me the creeps.
It’s taking everything I have not to fidget or grab on to Mateo’s hand like it’s a lifeline. Dan sits back in his chair, unbothered or unaware by the odd energy in the room; I’m unsure which, but I wish I could be him.
Unbothered, sipping on his coffee, legs kicked back.
I’m teetering on the edge.
Finally—under immense pressure—I crack and dart my hand above the desk, grab Mateo’s, and then rip our hands into my lap. His finger swipes against the back of my hand, and the energy buzzing in my chest immediately calms.
“Yes,” Cheryl screams, leaping from her chair to peer over the desk and into my lap, where I’m holding on to Mateo for dear life.
I used to suffer the anxiety of these meetings alone, with only my notebook and crystals to keep me safe and guide me away from throttling Mateo. I could still throttle him if I wanted, but I’d rather hold his hand and live a princess life while he carries all my things.
That’s not something I expected to enjoy, but not having to hold anything leaves my hands open to explore—pick up rocks, steal snacks from Mateo’s desk, squeeze his ass when he’s least expecting.
I could get used to domestic life.
“I told you, Dan,” Cheryl yells, shockingly accusatory. “What did I say?”
“They’re meant for each other, they only need a little shove,” Dan responds in a monotone voice.
“Uh…What?” Mateo asks.
He’s adorably befuddled, and while I’m usually the one behind on picking up the cues, this one is loud and clear.
I glare at my advisor, who smiles brightly, as if she submitted a paper toNatureand it was accepted without revisions.
“They were scheming,” I explain to my confused boyfriend. “We were their test subjects.” I turn to Cheryl. “How long?”
