Page 14 of Love Me
My mother’s hands wrap around me as soon as I re-enter the kitchen. She hugs me tight for some reason. It’s a reminder of the distance between me and my mother. The one I’ve unconsciously placed there for years.
Ever since—
I don’t finish the thought before Diego slides the meal that he brought for us to eat in front of me. He knows my body’s needs as well as I do.
A small smile touches my lips as I take my first bite of the quinoa bowl.
I’ve missed being home.
“We’ll have lunch soon,” I tell my mom as she prepares to leave with my dad and siblings.
She smiles, but her eyes continue to search mine. Then, her smile turns genuine. “I’m glad you’re back home.”
“Me too.”
Minutes later, my entire family leaves. About fifteen minutes after them, the movers finish up, and I finish my lunch.
It’s just Diego and me left.
I go to ask him if he’s going to eat, but he scoops me up in a massive hug before I can say anything.
“What’s this?” I ask with a laugh when he stays like that, just holding me.
“I’m glad you’re back home,” he mumbles into the crook of my neck.
I force myself to ignore the shudder that rattles through my body. But I can’t ignore the goosebumps that sprout up along my arms.
Diego pulls back. “Are you cold?” A genuine expression of concern is plastered on his handsome face.
I look over his bronze skin and thick, dark brown eyebrows that match the color of the curls on top of his head. While my hands are no stranger to the feel of his silky curls, when my eyes land on the neatly trimmed beard that covers his sharp jawline, they itch to feel the hair there.
I clasp both of my hands to stop myself.
“Not anymore,” I say, barely audible.
The way Diego’s eyebrow lift makes me wonder if he knows what I was thinking.
* * *
Diego
“I can’t believe Kyle, of all people, is getting married,” Mo says.
“Is already married,” I correct while pulling my own meal out of the bag and placing it on the counter.
“Forks are in that drawer.” She gestures toward the counter by the brand-new, sub-zero fridge.
“Your dad didn’t spare any expense, did he?”
She frowns. “The man is unyielding. You should’ve seen him almost flip his shit when I even suggested that I pay rent for this place.”
“He owns the building.”
“No,” she insists, “his company owns the building. Everyone else has to pay their mortgage or rent here. Why shouldn’t I?”
“You’re his daughter.” Before sitting to eat my lunch, I grab her wrist to check her numbers. They look good.
“You’re just as bad as he is.” She snorts.