Page 21 of Last First Kiss
Thankfully, the contact reboots me.
“Hi, yes, I’m fine, I’m ... just ... surprised, is all.” I shake my head, hoping that will make the fuzziness in my brain go away, and it does—sort of—enough to know I need to invite her in. “I’m sorry, come inside.”
“It’s fine,” she says as she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.
I lean into her, savoring the warmth of her hug, my initial surprise and panic subsiding.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to remember ifAlejandra said anything about her coming over last time they’d talked, but nothing’s clicking.
“Where’s Ale?” Lala asks, completely ignoring my question.
“I’m so hungry!” Alejandra shouts as she emerges from the bathroom.
“There you are.” Lala speeds past me and wraps Alejandra in a hug.
Alejandra freezes in place, her eyes wide, but she recovers quickly. “Hi Lala,” she says, looking at me for answers.
“I don’t know,” I mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Alejandra hugs her tightly. “How did you even get here?”
“I had a friend drop me off for the weekend.”
“Theweekend?” I practically scream, trying not to choke on my spit.
Alejandra’s eyes go wide again, and I watch all the color drain from her face until she’s Edward Cullen pale. Lala watches with the biggest smile plastered on her face.
“Where can I put my things?” she asks, pointing to the carry-on sitting near the front door.
How could I have missed such a big bag?
My brain buffers again, and I say nothing. I stare at her with the blankest expression in the world, because there’s literally no space for her. Our house isn’t small—it’s more than spacious for Alejandra and me. It’s a two-bedroom, two-bath home with a large living room, a roomy kitchen, and a finished basement. But we’ve never set up a proper guest space. Our friends usually head home or crash on the couch, and most of Alejandra’s family is local, so there’s never been a need for a guest room.
Fuck . . . We’re so busted.
If we can’t convince her we’re together, Alejandra and I are going to be neck-deep in blind dates for the next few decades.
“You can stay in the spare bedroom,” Alejandra says chirpily.
“The spare?” My brows furrow.
Alejandra widens her eyes at me, and I can only assume she’s telling me to shut the fuck up.
“Yes, my old room,” she says through a strained smile.
I blink at her, tilting my head, trying to piece it together.
Alejandra lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Can you go get us some coffee, please? I’ll clean up the room and get it ready for Lala,” she says, practically pushing us out the door.
“Coffee this late?” Lala peeks at my watch.
“Yeah, Ale loves her coffee,” I say, guiding Lala toward the car while wondering how the hell Alejandra is going to move all her shit out of her room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALEJANDRA
Ihaphazardly throw armfuls of my clothes into Clara’s room, clearing out as much of my closet as possible. Enough for it to look as if we share a closet, but we ran out of space and took over this one, because there’s no way I’ll be able to move everything.
