Page 25

Chapter 24

Rina

M y parents don't just have enough food for my friends and me—they have enough food to invite the entire Heatwave team if they, too, happen to pop by.

That's how holidays in Puerto Rico have always been. This house that I used to visit as a child was always packed to the brim with food, music, and life.

And today, it's no different.

On the plane ride over, I imagined a quiet Thanksgiving. Just me and my parents. Maybe some light music. Maybe cuddling up on the couch with a movie.

Instead, there's a baby being passed from hip to hip as my dad blasts Frankie Ruiz from the stereo Mom bought him Christmas of 99. The kitchen is buzzing with movement. Potatoes are being peeled. Vegetables are being chopped. Another round of drinks is being poured.

The act of eating Thanksgiving dinner is just the calm after the beautiful storm that is preparing it together.

When the lechon is fully roasted, Ryker and Fergie carry it in. It's unfortunate that Izzy, our resident vegan, is the first to see it being hauled onto the extended dining table. Luckily, the boys did the decency of leaving the part that would most traumatize my friend outside.

Dad and Keelan are setting the table and making space when they place it right in the middle, and the table starts filling with all the contributions.

After the world's shortest prayer, in which rumbling tummies notified Dad to make it quick, we all sat down to eat.

Arroz con gandules. Abuela's potato salad. Lechon asado. Mofongo stuffing. Warm bread slathered with butter from the bakery down the street. Each bite is bursting with flavor. And it makes my heart the happiest seeing my friends enjoy the food of my people.

"I'm going to need this potato salad at every single party, Rina," Fergie says between bites. "You're officially my dealer."

"Buen provecho," Dad says, setting two bottles of his version of Puerto Rican eggnog on the table. "I know everyone will be stuffed, but you can't have a holiday here without some housemade coquito."

"It's joy in a shot glass," Dad says.

I laugh because everyone wants a sampling of it.

"There's with or without alcohol," I explain, getting up to grab some shot glasses from the cabinet.

Mom gets up faster. "You sit," she says with a wink.

Keelan is at my right, and he bumps his leg against mine.

"Do you want to go for a walk later?" He whispers.

"Alone?" I whisper back without looking at him.

"Mmhmm. I hear there's a beach close by."

"What about everyone else?"

He smiles, "They'll be passed out within the hour."

He's right. We settle down for a movie, and those who aren't taking a nap in the rooms are eyes-shut on the couch as The Grinch plays.

Mom is the only one still up, now cleaning plates at the sink.

"I got that, Elena," Keelan says, popping up to help her.

"You're a guest, no. You sit, relax."

He shakes his head and gently takes the sponge away from her. "Elena, my mother would be insulted if I sat on the couch while a woman who's hardly rested all day cleans. Please, let me."

I watch the interaction from my place on the couch, where Libby is currently sleeping against me, her hand on her growing tummy.

My mom steps away from the sink, patting him on the shoulder as she walks away, saying, "You have good parents."

Had. He had good parents.

I have good parents. And I realize just how lucky I am to still have them.

I try wriggle out from under Libby's fiery red hair without pulling it and waking her. I replace my shoulder with an actual pillow and she doesn't protest.

"The only thing I ask, is that you give me every single one of those recipes we had tonight. I can't live without them," Keelan tells Mom.

She chuckles, "Ay Keelan, those are family recipes. They only stay in the family."

Mom announces she's going to take a quick nap and then be right back. "Take your time," Keelan says.

Dad snores on the couch and draws our attention to the living room, but he stays asleep.

"And then there were two," Keelan says to me, scabbing one of the plates.

"You wash, I dry?"

"Sure." He passes it to me and we make quick work of putting everything away before grabbing a couple of towels and setting out for the beach just as the sun is disappearing over the water.

"This is why I love coming here." I point to the horizon. An array of oranges and pinks and purples dance across the waves and shoot through the clouds in the sky.

"It's almost the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he says, nudging me from his place on the beach towel.

I slip my toes in the sand, feeling the cool sand beneath the surface.

"I'm glad you guys are here," I admit.

He leans back and slips his toes into the sand, too. "You need us. We come," he says matter of factly.

"I'm especially glad you came."

His toes stop moving in the sand. "Really?"

I nod my head softly.

"Why?"

"I think deep down I left with the tiniest hope that you'd come for me. It was selfish of me, but if I'm being honest. I just wanted to see how far you'd be willing to go."

He turns his body to me and places a hand on my cheek. I lean into his touch. "For you, Rina? I'd go to the ends of the world."

He then moves his hand into my hair, pushing it back and away from my face, and pulls me to him. "I'd do anything for you. Even if it meant throwing away a career I've always wanted. Even if it meant changing my dreams, I'd rather have you. And…"

He pauses, his face battling with what he's about to say next. "And I was an idiot for ever letting you go without a fight."

I didn't know I needed those words. I didn't know that over a decade of feeling like my heart was locked up, untouchable, hardly beating—those were the words that completely undo me.

I feel a burst of warmth in the center of my chest. And I want nothing more than to give myself to this man. For him to know me, all of me. And for me to know him.

This man who would rally my people. This man who would kick my ex's ass. This man who blends so seamlessly with my family.

I want him.

I reach for the button of my shorts and tug them down to my ankles, kicking them off. Then I pull my shirt over my head. He watches me as I do, his eyes asking the question his mouth won't— what are you doing?

I get up and stretch my hand down to him. "Let's go for a swim."

He chuckles, "You don't swim."

"Not by myself. But with you…" I look out to the vast ocean. "I know I'm safe."

He takes my hand, but instead of getting up, he pulls me down into his lap. I fall onto him and quickly adjust so that I'm straddling him.

His hands come down to my bare thighs, warm and possessive.

"Red is definitely your color," he says, his voice husky and raw.

I look down at my bikini. I wore it, knowing it would drive him wild.

"It looks even better off," I say.

His eyes widen as he reaches for the string on my back and gives it a tug. The fabric falls away from me and onto his lap as he takes in my body. "You are so right."

I wrap an arm around his neck and pull him closer to me, the scruff on his face brushing against my skin. He holds me against him, one hand against my back while the other hand comes up my abdomen and brushes against the underside of my breast.

He looks at me, eyes hooded, mouth slightly open. "What do you want, Katarina Marianela Lopez?"

I look down at him, surprised. "You know my middle name?"

"I may have snooped through some old photo albums," he admits.

"You did? Why?"

His hand comes up to my neck. "I wanted to see what my future kids would look like."

And just like that. Any hope for us just dies. Right there on that beach.

Because what Keelan doesn't know is that I'm destined to have the same problems my mom experienced.

He notices the shift in me because he shakes his head. "Don't do that. Don't pull away."

"Keelan, I need to tell you something."

He flips me down onto the towel and hovers over my topless body, placing a big, warm hand on my abdomen.

"I don't care. Whatever you're about to say. Whatever big secret you're about to tell me. I don't care. It's not going to stop me from wanting you, Rina. It's not going to stop me from feeling like I can't breathe because I can't have you. Too many things have kept us apart. Too many things have stolen our moments, and I'm done letting that happen."

He trails his nose softly up my neck and to my mouth.

"If you ever thought for a moment that you weren't everything I ever wanted in this world, that a life with you isn't enough for me… then you're wrong. I want you. Not what you can give to me. Not what you can do for me. Just you."

"But..." I feel my lip quiver and he presses the gentlest of kisses to it and pulls back to look at me. "I'm broken, Keelan. I always will be."

"Then let me hold every piece of you," he says, his voice breaking. "Let me hold every broken piece. Because I'd rather have the pieces than nothing at all."

A hot tear runs down the side of my face and he brushes it away with his thumb.

"Will you let me, Rina? Will you let me hold you?"

Another tear. A sniffle. "Yes," I say softly.

"Okay, then," he says through a broken smile before his lips claim me in a kiss so real, so raw, I don't think I've ever been kissed like it in my life.

In that one kiss, I feel a lifetime of moments come to life. All the possibilities. Everything I've been too afraid to ask for. It all wakes up.

And for the first time since I first met this man, I feel like he's something other than off-limits.

He's mine. All mine.

We kiss. We touch. We give in to each other here on an empty beach.

He tugs the strings on the sides of my hips and slips the fabric off me. His fingers work delicious circles that send my back arching, my breasts pressing firmly against his chest.

He keeps touching and teasing me as his lips and tongue taste the skin of my neck.

"You are the best dessert, Rina."

I shake under his touch.

"And I love watching you come undone for me."

I look into his eyes, my hands feeling the taut skin against his abs.

"Then make me yours," I tell him.

The circle his finger is working on my sensitive skin stops. "Don't tempt me. I won't be able to stop myself."

I push my hips against his rock-hard erection.

"I want all of you," I tell him.

He gulps but reaches for the hem of his board shorts and tugs them down. The fullness of him falls against my thigh, and I feel a rush of excitement.

"I want you to know. There's no going back, Rina." He lines himself up at my entrance. "If you're mine. You're all mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I squeak out.

He pushes into me, and my body takes him. It's not our first time. Not even our second. But it's the first time I take Keelan for everything he is.

Kind. Selfless. Quirky. Sexy.

I want every piece of him. And as he thrusts into me, our bodies uniting just like our hearts with the sound of the waves under a darkened sky—I finally feel ready for whatever comes next.

Our lips part, our tongues taste, our bodies meld, and as he draws out the most intense orgasm of my life, I want nothing more than to do it again.