I’m with him but we’re still not public, and honestly thinking about the fact that we likely never will be gives me anxiety, so I try not to. Whatever this relationship is, it’s not the kind where he can introduce me to his family as his girlfriend or anything like that.
It’s not perfect.
But it is what it is.
And I would rather have Alejo like this than not have him at all.
I go back to my apartment, feeling the excitement build through me. Perhaps he’s taking me away for the night. We have a couple of days before Christmas so a quick trip somewhere hot might be in order. Or maybe he’s not spending Christmas with his family at all, who knows.
All I know is that my heart is practically tripping on itself at the thought of going away with him.
I am a fucking smitten kitten.
And I am falling for him, hard.
No safety net with this one, I think to myself, but I don’t dwell on it. To dwell is to stall.
Grinning, I start throwing shit in a carry-on. Sunglasses, sunscreen for my sun-hating skin, a “packable” hat that will resemble a blob after I unpack, shorts, bathing suits, workout clothes in case he wants me to work out with him, some light layers, and a few sundresses.
Thirty minutes later, there’s a knock at my door.
Alejo is there, wearing his leather jacket and a scarf, his car keys in hand.
He comes in and kisses me. “You ready?”
“I think so,” I say, smiling up at him.
“Okay, get your passport, and let’s go,” he says.
I swipe it off my counter, lock up my apartment, and head down to the street. He throws my luggage in the trunk of his Audi and we’re off to the airport.
“Are you going to give me any hints of where you’re abducting me to?”
“No,” he says, and I notice he’s palming the steering wheel as if he’s nervous. Hmmm. That’s interesting.
“I guess I’ll have to figure it out at the airport,” I muse, trying to figure out why he’s nervous. Is it because this is the first trip we’ve taken as a couple? That could be it.
Though Alejo doesn’t seem like he’d get nervous about that. He’s definitely not one to shy away from grand gestures, or worry if things are moving too fast.
Once at the airport, he takes me to Iberia Airlines and scans his passport at one of the machines. I don’t want the machine to ruin the surprise yet, so I keep my eyes on the passersby in the airport, a busy time of year for sure.
A few of them seem to recognize Alejo, but they keep walking. They don’t give me much of a glance but it does make me wish I had my blobby hat out of my suitcase so I could pull it down over my face.
It gives me pause. Even though we’re not holding hands or being affectionate in any way, there’s still a chance that someone could spot us together and make some kind of assumption about why we’re together at an airport. I mean, I’m fairly recognizable, too. Thankfully I’ve never seen anything negative about me in the Spanish press, but I know a lot of people know who I am. A lot of the press use me as an example of the women’s right movement, for better or worse.
But I forget about all that when he hands me my boarding pass.
Tenerife.
I look up at him in surprise. “Tenerife? The Canary Islands?”
“Sí. Have you been?”
“No, I just heard it’s pretty popular. Isn’t it kind of far away though for such a short trip? It’s off the coast of Africa.”
“Only a three-hour flight.” He takes in a deep breath and gives me an awkward smile. “And it’s not a short trip. My family is there. Aunts and uncles on my father’s side. My mother and brother flew down yesterday. I want you to spend Christmas with me, with all of us. I want to show you off as my girlfriend.”
I feel a pull, a physical draw to be with him, and it takes everything to stand my ground, knowing we could be watched.
This. Fucking. Man.
He wants me to meet his family, show me off like I’m some jewel. He makes me feel like…like I’m the rarest, most precious thing. He makes me feel like I shine and that it’s okay to take up the space I do.
“Is that okay?” he asks warily, searching my expression.