Page 97 of This Could Be Us
“Tell me about your sisters.” I pour a small amount of coquito for her and a little more into my glass.
“We’ve always been close. Lola has a different father from Nay and me, but we always joke half sister, whole heart.”
“Nice. I know Nay is married. What about Lola?”
“So your cyberstalking didn’t reveal everything about my siblings?” she teases.
“I didn’t want to be nosy.”
“Ha!” She sips her coquito and looks back to me. “Yeah, Nay is married. Lola is single, but in love.”
“Really? A relationship?”
“Not yet. It’s her best friend, actually. They’re moving to Austin to open a bookstore.”
“Unrequited love?” I ask with a small smile.
“Maybe not as unrequited as she assumed. They kissed.” She scoops a swath of dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m so loose-lipped tonight. Not sure why I told you that.”
“Maybe subconsciously you wanted to talk aboutourkiss,” I venture, only half teasing. “Have you thought about our kiss last week?”
My tone is even, light, as if the words don’t matter, when they really fucking do. I don’t want her to move faster than she needs to, but for some reason I need to know it’s not easy for her when it’s so difficult for me.
“I’ve thought about it a lot.” She sets her glass down carefully and looks up to meet my gaze. “You know I have.”
“I hoped you had, but I wasn’t sure. I like knowing I’m not the only one having to exercise an inordinate amount of discipline to not act on what I feel.”
“You are definitely not alone in that,” she says, picking up her glass for another sip.
“Good to know.” I decide to shift the subject to something that won’t have me kissing her again. “How’s your Me List coming?”
“Oh, wow.” She eyes me speculatively. “You saw that?”
“I didn’t just see it,” I tell her. “I made a list of my own.”
“You have a Me List, Judah?”
“Recently made one, yeah.” I run a hand over the back of my neck. “My ex-wife, Tremaine—you’ll love her, by the way—she gets on me all the time about making my whole life about our sons and my job.”
“You said she’s remarried?”
“Yeah. By the end we were glorified roommates. Great friends, butit was not a passionate marriage. The boys were everything to us both, and we knew the easiest way to take care of them was together.”
“And then she wanted more?”
“Then she wanted more, yes. And it wasn’t with me.”
“I’ve come to realize that a woman who wants more and realizes she deserves it is a dangerous thing.”
I know what she just said is really empowering, but it’s also so damn hot. Hearing her roll “pasteles” off her tongue got me hard. That statement is even more arousing because I wonder if I could be part of themoreSoledad deserves. A man who would cherish where Edward disrespected. Who would protect when he left her vulnerable. Who would stay for all the treasures that piece of shit abandoned.
“So Tremaine got more,” Soledad says, bringing me back to our conversation. “And now she wants you to have more too.”
“She does. As parents—I guess it’s true for most parents, but I’ve definitely noticed in parents of disabled people—sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking sacrificing everything is the greatest measure of our love. We devote everything to our kids who need more than most. That has consumed me for years. I thought that kind of singular focus expressed the highest form of love for my boys. Your journey, your list, has shown me how much I’d neglected anything just for me. Maybe there’s value to them seeing their father happy.”
“I believe so, or at least I’ve started to understand the value of that over the last year,” she says. “Will you tell me what’s on your list?”
I stand and step between her knees, absorbing her scent and her heat, losing myself for a few seconds in the dark infinity of her eyes.