When the bartender announced last call, Victoria checked her phone. Ten to midnight. She’d been at the bar with Rafael for almost two hours. The first few minutes had been awkward, but once they started discussing Missy’s wedding, they fell into an easy conversation. Though Rafael’s hand occasionally brushed hers, he kept things platonic. No diving back into old memories. No suggestive comments. They talked as friends as they bonded over the wedding from hell.
But when she stood, the ground swayed. She grabbed her chair.
“Are you okay?” Rafael asked.
“I don’t get it. I only had two amaretto sours, and I had plenty to eat at Araceli’s.” Though she was a lightweight when it came to booze, this was extreme, even for her.
“You didn’t drink any of her Christmas punch, did you?”
“Two cups? Maybe three? But it was mostly fruit.”
He laughed. “Mostly rum, you mean. That punch is intoxicating as hell.”
She stumbled slightly, then grabbed onto his arm. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” He helped her navigate around the table, waving goodbye to the bartender as they left.
She couldn’t believe how woozy she felt. Not drunk. But fuzzy around the edges. She hoped the brisk night air would clear her head, but the five-minute walk back to Rafael’s apartment complex didn’t give her enough time to recover.
She leaned against her car and took a deep breath. “I can’t drive. I’ll have to call an Uber.” When she checked her screen, she groaned. “Thirty-minute wait time? Are you kidding?” Her teeth chattered as the wind picked up. If she’d known it was going to be this chilly, she would have brought a coat.
“Do you want to come inside?” Rafael said.
She didn’t want to wait in the cold, but she couldn’t risk anyone catching them together. “What about your cousins? Don’t they live with you?”
“They should be asleep by now. Unlike me, they have work on Monday morning. But I can go in first to make sure the coast is clear.”
She checked her phone again. Now the wait time was forty minutes. “Okay. Just until my ride gets here.”
He took her arm. “I’d offer to drive you home, but I had two beers. I can’t risk getting pulled over.”
“No, it’s fine.”
He led her up the stairs, and she waited outside while he unlocked the door. A moment later, he emerged, giving a thumbs-up. “It’s all good. Let me help you. I don’t want to turn on the light.”
She stumbled again as she made her way into the apartment, grateful for the support of his arm. In the darkness, she could barely make out anything, and she cursed under her breath when she walked into a chair. For a heart-pounding moment, she stopped cold, barely daring to breathe. But the place was silent, save for the ticking of a clock. When they reached Rafael’s bedroom, he shut the door behind them and turned on a bedside lamp, flooding the room with a soft glow.
The room was dominated by a king bed with a navy comforter, adorned with a pile of embroidered pillows. She picked up a pink one and smirked. “Rosé all day? Wouldn’t have taken you for a wine mom.”
“One of Araceli’s passion projects, a few years ago. Everyone in the family ended up with them that Christmas.”
“Cute.” She pushed aside a pillow embroidered with the words “Kiss the Cook” and sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you think I could get some water? It might help clear my head.”
“Sure. Hang on.” He crept out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
Victoria bent down and took off her heels. But when she straightened up, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She lay down and closed her eyes, hoping the feeling would pass.
Rafael turned on the kitchen light and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. A tap on his shoulder made him jump, and the bottle tumbled from his hands.
“Whoa. Chill out, dude.” Dario stood beside him, dressed in a Padres t-shirt and a pair of ratty pajama bottoms. Like his brother Ernesto, he was tall, lean, and prone to a scruffy, three-day beard growth.
As Rafael bent down to pick up the water bottle, panic flooded through him. Had he left the bedroom door open? Was Victoria visible? “I…ah…was just getting some water. What’s up?”
“Needed a little late-night snack.” Dario opened the fridge, took out a container, and grimaced as he peeked into it. “This shit’s nasty.” He shoved it back inside.
Rafael reached around him and removed the container. “Don’t put it back in there. I’ll clean it out tomorrow.” He inched backward, hoping to avoid further conversation.
Dario was still watching him. “How was that thing at Araceli’s? You get all that shit done for the wedding?”
“For the most part. It’s looking good.”
“Did Victoria show up?”
He froze in place. “Wh…why would you think she’d be there?”
Dario tilted his head to the side, like he couldn’t believe Rafael was that clueless. “Isn’t she coordinating the wedding?”
Duh. “Right. She came for a bit. Helped out with the gingerbread houses.” He held up the water bottle. “I…I should get to bed. I’m wiped.”
But Dario had already lost interest. He poked his head back into the fridge. “Okay if I eat these leftover enchiladas?”
“Go for it.” Rafael hustled back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Victoria lay on his bed, fast asleep, her purse tucked under her arm. She must have been more looped than he thought. Either that, or the combination of exhaustion and alcohol had knocked her out.
He prodded her shoulder gently. “Victoria?”
She looked so sweet, lying on his bed. But she probably wouldn’t appreciate waking up in it. From inside her purse, her phone buzzed. Though he didn’t want to pry, he took it out and browsed the notifications in case her driver had arrived early. No dice. The driver had canceled. Not surprising since it was after midnight on a Sunday, and his neighborhood wasn’t the nicest part of Escondido. He set her phone back in her purse.
What would it hurt if he let her nap? Given the late hour, he didn’t feel that great about her taking a ride-share alone.
As he watched her sleep, a rush of emotions surged through him. Affection. Empathy. Longing. What was it about her that made him lose his self-control? If he were being truly responsible, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He would have bid her good night after Araceli’s party and headed back to his apartment alone. But he was as fiercely drawn to her now as he’d been in Baja.
Before he rescued her on the beach, he’d made it a policy not to hook up with the guests at the resort. Though there weren’t any rules against it, he didn’t want a reputation as a player. He’d had his fill of that shit in Escondido. So, he’d resisted Victoria, at least until they camped out on the beach together. But when she attempted to seduce him, he gave in willingly. The next two weeks had been unforgettable.
Her forced himself to look away and picked up an Italian cookbook from the stack by his bed. His collection of second-hand cookbooks was an obsession his brothers teased him about constantly. As if he was a grumpy old man who didn’t know how to look up recipes on the internet. But nothing beat the satisfaction of paging through a beautifully photographed cookbook, letting his mind wander as he imagined visiting different countries and trying all the food.
Inspired by the conversation he’d had with Victoria in her office, he set down the book and grabbed one featuring recipes from France. He turned to the baking section and took his time paging through it.
What would it be like to go to Paris? To learn how to make French pastries? More than anything, he’d love to go there with Victoria.
After an hour, he could barely keep his eyes open. He nudged Victoria again, but she slept like the dead. He wasn’t about to sleep on the hardwood floor, so he’d have to take his chances in the bed with her.
He changed into pajama bottoms but ditched his shirt. Dario had cranked up the heat again, making the apartment warmer than it needed to be. He carefully pulled the blankets out from under Victoria, then covered her back up. She would have been more comfortable without her pants, but he wasn’t about to take off any of her clothes. Not if he wanted her to trust him.
As he settled into bed beside her, he put a few throw pillows between them. Anything to prevent him rolling over in the middle of the night and brushing up against her. He was almost tempted to kiss her forehead, but he resisted the urge.
He was going to behave himself, even if it killed him. If all she needed from him was friendship, then that was what he’d give her.