Page 32 of Love Off Course

I’m caught off guard by her question. Stunned frozen. Everyone just knows. And they know not to talk about it. “I, uh…”

“It’s a simple question, Camilo,” she grits out. “If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t. Just move out of my way.”

She pushes at my chest, but I grip her wrists, keeping her from leaving.

“He’s in the States.”

Her eyes narrow. “And?”

“And nothing,” I growl. “That’s it. Stuck there until he dies.”

A burst of anger—aimed all at myself—swells up inside me. This time, it’s me who wants to get away. She stops me by standing on her toes and brushing a kiss across my lips. Time stands still for a second and then I pounce on her. My palm gently grabs her throat as I back her against the wall again. Her mouth parts with a needy mewl that makes my dick achingly hard. Our lips meet in a desperate, frenzied kiss. She tastes like orange juice and something I want more of. Her tongue is needy and dances with mine in a way that I wonder how she’d use it for other tasks.

Her fingers thread into my hair and she pulls on it, forcing me to end the kiss all too soon. I want to strip her down and continue this naked while inside her.

“There’s a story and I want to hear it.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “Please.”

It’s hard to tell her no when she’s being fucking human.

“Not much to tell. Dad gave up everything for my dreams, including my mother. He took me to the States and gave meopportunities I may not have had otherwise. My dad was my best friend…”

“Until?”

“Until a stroke took him from me a few months ago. He’s in a nursing home in Florida now. Doesn’t speak or know much of what’s going on. He requires full-time care.” I close my eyes, hating the lump in my throat. “I’m off living my dream and he probably wishes he were dead. He wasted his life for me.”

“Hey,” she whispers in the softest voice I’ve ever heard her use. “I bet it wasn’t a waste to him.”

I study her pretty face up close. Steal a quick kiss. Rake my fingers through her hair. She’s so damn captivating.

“It’s hard to live my life, flying all over the globe, knowing he’s trapped to a wheelchair and relies on someone to take care of him twenty-four-seven. It should be me.”

She shakes her head. “He’d hate that.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know dads. If it were my dad, he’d hate that. They want their children to be happy, even at their own expense.” She frowns. “For so long, my dad didn’t date because he was afraid of upsetting me. My mom died when I was nine. It was hard to get over it. Not sure I ever will.” She expels a heavy sigh. “But I want Daddy to be happy. Now he’s getting married.”

Now that she’s not being a supreme bitch, I feel fucking terrible. “You’re missing the wedding?”

“He said he’d wait for his little girl.” She smiles, looking much younger and sweeter. “I’m his princess.”

“You? A princess? I never would have imagined.”

She laughs, giving me a playful shove. “You’re a dick.”

“Good thing you like dicks and seamen, though it’d be better if you liked pilots too.”

“Pilots are arrogant,” she sasses. “I definitely don’t like pilots.”

“Pilots like you,” I growl, nipping at her bottom lip. “A lot.”

“Is everything okay? Sher—ohmigod, you’re tonguing my boyfriend,” Damian squawks from the doorway.

I laugh, releasing her to turn toward him. “First of all, I’m not your boyfriend, just your incredibly talented dance partner with…what did you call it? Bitable buns?”

Damian fans himself, pretending to sway on his feet. “Don’t tease a sex-starved queer with buns talk. I can’t be held responsible for what my tongue might do.”

“Secondly, scram Rainbow Brite.”

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