my throat. “I promise, Alejo.”
He pulls out slowly and then gently lowers me to the ground. I yank down my dress and shoot him a shy glance.
He’s staring at me with such hope and tenderness that I fear I might turn into more of a puddle, and that seems impossible after what his orgasm did to me.
This morning my father asked me a question that I wasn’t sure I had the answer to.
Does it feel wrong or right?
Now, looking at Alejo, trapped in his gaze, my heart warms, expanding and beating for him, and I know what the truth is.
This feels right.
This feels more than right.
Alejo comes over to me, kisses me hard and long and soft, and it’s enough to make my toes curl, for the butterflies to flutter in my stomach, even though he’d just been inside me.
“Let’s go congratulate Luciano on his award,” he says, still cupping my chin.
“I feel bad I missed it.”
“He wins every year. It’s rigged.” He then pats me on the ass, gives me a wink, and leaves the room.
I wait a few minutes to put enough space between us, taking the time to gather my thoughts and catch my breath before I follow.
Chapter 23
Thalia
Madrid during Christmastime is a magical place. Usually when people think of a European Christmas, they think of the German markets or ice skating in Paris or sparkling winter villages in the Austrian alps. But Madrid spares no expense in pulling out all the stops.
There are lavishly decorated trees everywhere, with a one hundred and fourteen foot golden Christmas tree in Puerta del Sol. The whole city is lit up with festive lights, there are roasted chestnuts at every street corner (making the air smell fantastic), there are puppet shows and mulled wine and churros dipped in chocolate, and everyone is telling you Feliz Navidad.
But maybe the whole reason my first Christmas in Madrid feels magical is because I’m with Alejo.
After our tryst at the gala, I decided to throw myself into us with an open heart. I’ve blocked out the voices that warn me that I’m going to get hurt, I ignore the fear that this isn’t going to last, I stop the negative thoughts in their tracks.
I’m committing to being with Alejo, and more than that, I’m committing to the moment.
Life isn’t happening to me; it’s happening for me.
Alejo is for me as much as I am for him.
We’re in each other’s lives for a reason, whatever that reason may be.
I’m taking that green light.
“What are you doing right now?” Alejo asks me over the phone.
“I’m perusing the stands at the Christmas market in Plaza Mayor,” I tell him. This market isn’t as good as the ones in Germany or Holland, but it still packs a punch, and since the plaza is close to my apartment, I’ve been coming by here after work to try and soak in some of that festive flavor.
“Again?”
“I like the food here,” I tell him. I’ve eaten my weight in Christmas cookies, but I’ve decided to worry about it after the holidays. Until then, I’m stuffing my face.
“How fast can you be packed?”
I stop outside a giant gingerbread man display. “What do you mean? Packed? Where?”
“How fast can you be packed?” he repeats. “For some place a little warmer and sunnier than this.”
“What are you talking about?”
He sighs. “It won’t be a surprise if I tell you. Just go home and pack. I’ll give you forty-five minutes. Vamos.”
“Vale, vale, vale,” I tell him before hanging up and turning back to my apartment.
Today is actually the start of our holidays, the team having played against Atlético last night for the final game of the year (ending in a draw, which luckily didn’t hurt our standings in La Liga), and none of us have to be back until right after New Year. I know I get more of a holiday than most since the players still have to keep training and practicing on their own accord, but it’s a relief to have the time to enjoy life and breathe.
Of course, things have been kind of weird for me since I have no place to go on Christmas. Alejo has asked me what I am doing and I said I might go to Vera and Mateo’s, which still seems like a viable option for me, you know, instead of eating gingerbread cookies by myself in my apartment.
I would never infringe upon Alejo. He has his mother and brother and some family elsewhere, I forget where.