Page 46 of Wishing for La Luna
I watch it again and again.
Me
Jesucristo. Dame que yo quiero.
And I go back to watching.
“Rio,” Tito yells.
“What?” I look up, confused.
“We’re here. I’ve said it three times.” His voice is laden with annoyance, but I smile, because I have one more track for my playlist. And because…it’s only a matter of time until I have her moving like that against me again.
13
Luna
“Girl, the way these people can’t stop talking about the two of you the past two weeks…these blogs will be eating off your back for months,” Breya, the makeup artist, says.
Chris, the hairstylist, chuckles as he applies moisturizer to my curls. “I mean, it was epic, and that footage is everything, honey. That club could have fallen apart, and neither of you would have noticed.”
Except, I did. I noticed the fight, the yelling, and everything else. I just made a choice.One that has haunted me since.Ever since that night at the club, I feel like things are coming to a head. I’ve made a couple of excuses not to go out, but the text messaging is worse.
The photos of him lying shirtless in bed is bad enough. But the bedhead or wet-from-the-shower selfies have me engaged to my fingers at night. How long will I be able to control myself?
I couldn’t avoid today since I’m going to be in the music video. We met here instead of arriving together, and he has been busy working with Niko on the details. The hello kiss was brief because he was helping set up some equipment. I’ve been in hair and makeup, avoiding the constant thinking and overthinking—or trying. I wish Chris and Breya would stop reminding me about all the online chatter.
There’s a knock, and the door opens. Rio stands there in his baggy cargo pants and tank top. The wing on his chest tattoo peeks out toward his shoulder. He walks into the room, and immediately the air goes out. My gaze meets his in the mirror, and it’s the edge in his gaze that latches onto my ribcage, squeezing tight.
Something’s happened.Something that rattled him and is slithering up my spine, even though I don’t know what that is.
Still, he says nothing, and I’m too afraid to ask.
Breya puts down her brush and clears her throat. “Come on, Chris. Let’s go check out the buffet.”
Chris doesn’t move but looks between Rio and me. “Um, girl, I’m gonna stay. I want to make sure her curls fluff some more.”
Rio’s gaze doesn’t move from mine.
But Breya moves quickly and grabs Chris by the arm. “We’re going.”
I’m barely aware of the closing of the door, because Rio’s gaze is so intense, so heavy on me that it weighs my shoulders down. After the morning I’ve had, I don’t think I can take any more bad news, but I still ask.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m annoyed,” he answers.
I smile. “That’s the understatement of the year. What’s the reason for your annoyance?”
He shrugs. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
I tilt my head and purse my lips. “Yet you came into the room and scared glam away.”
“Fine, I’ll go.” He turns to leave.
I spin around and latch on to his hand before he can go. “Stop. Just tell me what it is.”
“There are a couple of interviews out there today.”
