There’s a knock on my door at exactly 5:59 pm. Emilio. Nerves fill my every fiber. Why do I feel like this is a mistake? A roller coaster heading for destruction, and I can’t seem to find the exit to get off the ride?
I stand from the couch and open the door. My suitcase right next to it.
“Hey, you ready?” Emilio asks, his easygoing tone putting some of my nerves to rest.
“Ah, yeah.” I nod and wheel my suitcase in front of me.
“You do know we’re only going for a weekend?” Emilio asks, looking down.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know what I would need.”
“I could have bought you anything you needed while we’re there.”
“I could also buy myself whatever I need, Emilio,” I remind him. “I’m not in the market for a sugar daddy.”
“Good to know.” He takes hold of my suitcase.
I lock my door and follow him to the elevator. Neither of us says a word as we travel down to the garage, or when Emilio easily lifts a suitcase I struggled to drag off my bed into the back of his car. He then opens the passenger side door and I get in.
He pulls out of the garage and into traffic. Stopping at a red light before he finally turns to me. “This is ridiculous. Why are you not talking?”
“Why areyounot talking?” I throw back at him.
“Because I’m afraid if I say the wrong thing, you’re going to jump out of this car and change your mind about coming with me.”
I blink at his honesty. It’s never been a secret that we have feelings for each other, but Emilio has never been this vulnerable with me. This open. I don’t know how to take it. “I’m sorry that you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”
He shrugs and starts driving again when the light turns green. “Why areyounot talking?” he repeats.
“Because I’m nervous. What are your parents going to think about me just rocking up unannounced?” I ask him.
“They know you’re coming. I added your name to the flight logs, Frankie. You really think my dad wouldn’t know about the change?”
“Right. But what will theythink, Emilio?”
“They will think that you’re coming to visit. That’s it,” he says. “Which is what you’re doing.”
“Right.” I nod my head. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Visiting family. “What are you doing in Mexico anyway?”
“Besides seeing my family? Work,” he says.
“Work.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of work?” I smile at him, knowing full well he’s not going to tell me.
“The kind that would probably give you nightmares, Frankie. I’ve never lied to you, so don’t ask me questions you’re not prepared to know the answers to.”
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“I’ll tell you, if you really want to know. It’s not as if you’re a security risk. I would just prefer you didn’t have that image of me.”
“What image?”
“The one of a monster,” he says.
“I don’t think you’re a monster. Cocky? Yes. An Asshole? Most of the time. Over-indulged, spoiled brat? Absolutely. But you’re not a monster, Emilio.”