Mateo
I’d thought this was a crazy idea when I’d spoken to Kenderly early this morning, but I wanted Zori to be happy, and I knew I was the one who could make that happen. But until she pulled her head out of her ass to see me for who and what I was to her, she’d always want the wrong things. So, when Kenderly suggested I do a sort of Bachelor thing on a secluded island with two other women along with Zori, naturally, I was a bit hesitant.
Kenderly had gone on to explain that sometimes people make what they deem the right choice for all the wrong reasons, and Zoraida just needed a little shove in the right direction. Her parents loved her but had set a bad example. They wanted materialistic things to prove their worth and give them happiness. Which wasn’t real. Happiness was where your heart was. It was that place that was always warm no matter how cold the situation. I just needed Zori to see that.
The blonde, Portia, who sat in my lap, was playing this thing up. I couldn’t tell if she was acting or serious. I didn’t know what Kenderly had told the other two women, but I was sure she’d made them think all kinds of things about me. My goal was Zori. She was the reason I was here. She was the one I wanted. But if she was gonna play stupid, well, I could, too.
I squeezed Portia’s hips and then leaned in to smell the column of her neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zori. She was seething. Great. This could have all been avoided if she’d just accepted what was right in front of her.
“All right, sweetheart.” I lifted Portia off my lap. “Let’s have lunch, and then we’ll all go down to the beach for a swim.”
“I’m not going in the water. I’ll mess up my hair,” Portia protested.
“Then you can watch the rest of us. I’m sure we can get someone to bring you drinks, doll.”
Portia. Definitely high maintenance. That was a mark against her right there. Did I want to spoil my woman? Of course, I did, but I wasn’t about to treat her like a baby either, or kiss her ass in the process to make her happy.
“We are getting into the water?” Patricia asked. She didn’t look like she wanted to join us either.
“He just said that,” Zori said with a dramatic sigh. She was frustrated.
“Well, then I must go to my room and change. I’m not dressed for the beach.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Zori mumbled under her breath. I had to hold back my chuckle. Zori, when pissed, was the cutest thing ever. Adorable.
“What about you? Do you need to change?” I asked, looking at Zori’s black bikini top. Any man would be a fool not to want her, and I was glad Clinton von douche was out of the picture.
“No, Matty, I don’t need to change. I’m ready for the water whenever you are.”
That’s my girl. No complaints. She was always down to hang out with me. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much. Back in high school, I wasn’t ready. But neither was she. Neither of us had thought about life after school. She’d gone on to college, and I’d started working at the shop. When I’d wanted to enroll in online classes, she was there to help me. She’d been there every step of the way for as long as I could remember. I wanted to do the same for her, but in a different capacity. I wanted to provide for her. But I also wanted a relationship built on something solid, unshakable.
Zori, in her current state of mind, was not any of the things I wanted; she’s focused on all the wrong things. But she was smart, and I hoped that our time here would introduce her to what being with me would entail. She had to be stripped down to the barest bones, the most basic of needs. It was the only way she’d realize that all the things she thought she wanted were things that didn’t mean much. They didn’t make the meat of the relationship. They were just the accents.
I felt a deep sense of relief knowing that I would be the one to take care of her. She was mine, and I was hers. Even if she didn’t realize it yet. Zoraida Lemes was my true north. My heart had been hers all along, I’d just been too young to realize that the love I felt for her was deeper and stronger than I realized. There were plenty of times I could have gone to her and told her the truth. But every time seemed like a bad time, and then when I thought the time was right, some other shit would go down, preventing us from connecting. Whether it was me and some other girl, or her and some other douche. There hadn’t been anyone who was admirable enough. Which just went on to prove my point: we were perfect for each other.
I’d been content with us just being friends at one point, but all that had changed. She’d gotten wasted and started talking about the things she wanted in life. Outer Zori thought she needed money and materialistic things to define her, make her happy. Inner Zori knew it was the deep love of a true friend, and the security and safe haven of knowing that the person you’d spend the rest of your life with would love you, all of you, above all else. Not just pieces of you. Everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Her words, not mine. Although they’d been slurred, they were true.
I remember thinking then that I loved all of her. Every single thing about her. From her smile to her kind heart, and I especially loved how she couldn’t hide her feelings. They were out in the open for all to see. I’d made a promise to myself that night, that I’d be the one to protect all that was her. But then, two days later, she’d come to the shop saying she’d found Mr. Right. Again.
He was more like Mr. Right Now.
The fucktard.
“After lunch, I’ll meet you ladies out here on the veranda, and we can head down to the beach.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Portia cooed, leaning over to kiss me on the mouth. I moved at the last moment and offered her my cheek. I gave her points for her aggressive behavior, but that was it. I was here for Zori.
* * *
Zori
The time at the beach wasn’t at all what I’d thought it would be. It was way worse. Patricia and Portia were all over Matty. When his shirt had come off, I thought for sure they would faint. With all their sighing and hard breathing, you’d think he could induce their orgasms right there on the spot. Give me a break. I rolled my eyes and watched as Portia asked him to rub suntan oil on her body, while Patricia tried to rub oil on him. It was quite comical, and yet disturbing. If I had to put up with their posturing for the rest of the week, I was going to shoot someone.
As she’d already proclaimed, Portia did not get into the water. Patricia did, and she all but molested Matty in the waves. It was ridiculous. He soaked up every bit of attention she threw his way. I could have done that. Pretended I needed help, or claimed the waves were too strong. But it wasn’t like me to play the damsel. I stood on my feet. As did Matty. He didn’t need a helpless woman. What he needed was someone who would stand beside him, not behind him or in his arms. Well, at night being in his arms wouldn’t be so bad....
Portia and Patricia had to go.
We were all back in the big, open living room. There were no windows, just the open—literally open—floor plan, and the breeze from the ocean mixed with the scent of the flowers in the garden outside and in vases inside made the house smell amazing. Mateo sat on a large sofa big enough to fit us all. I knew that the two Ps would ensure that they sat next to him on the couch. And I knew I needed to step up my game. Do something. But I didn’t like putting myself out there. What if he rejected me? He’d been awfully friendly with Portia this afternoon during lunch, and then again with Patricia in the ocean.
I was the only one who had yet to gain his attention.
“I’m gonna go and grab something to drink,” I said. No one acknowledged me, and I didn’t ask if anyone wanted anything, I just needed a moment to myself to regroup and figure out what I was doing.
The last two days on the island had been an eye-opener for sure. I saw that things weren’t as black and white as I’d thought. I loved Matty, and I loved the time we spent together. I also loved the way he’d made me feel yesterday when he had his hands all over me. His warmth, his strength, all of it, comforted me in a way that no one else had ever been able to do. He allowed me to be me, and accepted me for who and what I was. Even if I’d been nothing but a brat the entire time. He’d always been there for me.
Every time I needed him.
My hands went to my mouth as realization punched me in the gut and knocked the breath out of me. I’m so stupid. So very stupid. The things I thought I wanted weren’t necessities. An expensive car and home, none of those things meant anything if I couldn’t share them with the right person. And the right person wasn’t someone who made money or offered me financial security. The right person was the one who made me laugh every day. Or danced with me when no one else would at the eighth-grade fall festival. Or kicked Derek LaRoque’s ass for calling me a bitch.
Clinton would have never done those things. All he cared about was his image and his position. Mateo could care less about that. He didn’t care if there was dirt on his face, or oil in his hair. He gave people the finger and told them to go screw themselves if someone tried to put him down. He didn’t care. And not because he was okay with what life had dealt him, but because he was truly happy with what he had. His happiness isn’t measured by his wealth, but by the people who surrounded him that were lucky enough to call him friend.
Damn.
I was in love with Mateo Vargas.