A Lot Like Adiós (Primas of Power, #2)

by Alexis Daria

He hated calendar alerts—the damned things ruled his life these days—but he especially despised this one. New York was the last thing he wanted to think about, today or ever.

Gabe hadn’t been back to New York since his sister’s wedding nine years ago, where he and his parents had made a scene and his father had yelled “Don’t come back!” at his retreating form.

her one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan

“Fuck you, Gabriel Aguilar,” she whispered at the phone as tears welled in her eyes. How dare he miss her? He was the one who’d left, the one who’d ignored every single email or text she’d sent him.

She should say no. She was a freelance graphic designer now, and she didn’t even take marketing jobs anymore, no matter how much some of her current clients hinted that they’d be happy to pay for those services.

She wanted to see him. To spend time with him. To find out if there was anything left to salvage . . . With a lump in her throat, she wrote in tiny, reluctant letters, “Friendship 2.0.”

Gabe. I haven’t seen you in 13 years. You were my best friend, and you disappeared on me. You want my help? This is the least you can do while I work on your campaign.

Six feet of hard-muscled Latino Superman, with the deepest dimples you ever saw and the softest lips she’d ever kissed.

He should’ve worn jeans. Or a cup. But he preferred comfortable clothes for travel, and he hadn’t expected to get turned on by Michelle immediately.

Gabe let out a low chuckle. It was such a Michelle thing to say. She’d always had an abundance of confidence. It was one of the things he used to adore—and even envy—about her.

His parents hadn’t been happy, to say the least. The shouting match that followed had spanned two languages and countless old arguments about school, Gabe’s choices, and family obligations. His father had dismissed Gabe’s accomplishments—like graduating with honors and getting a scholarship to UCLA were nothing—and his mother had called Gabe ungrateful.

His interactions with them hadn’t gone well since he was fourteen years old, marked by yelling and criticism. There was no reason for that to have changed.

What she hadn’t expected was the simmering arousal. Like all of her cells prickled with awareness of him. Like he was a giant magnet pulling her inexorably toward him, and she was powerless to stop the attraction.

In her more self-reflective moments, Michelle could admit she tended to have sex with guys who were kind of boring because it allowed her to maintain emotional distance even while letting them into her body. And while she’d gone out a few times with women, she hadn’t gotten to the bedroom with any of them. Even at thirty-one, her bisexuality was still something she was figuring out on a practical level,

“I came out to my sister,” Gabe said. “My niece Lucy is transgender, so I wanted to make sure she knows someone else in the family is queer.”

Then Ava turned the look on Michelle, who hunched her shoulders and made a beeline for the electric kettle.

“Ve y ponte tu ropa.”

He didn’t know how it had happened. Maybe she’d taken his hand to pull him toward an exhibit, or he’d reached for her so as not to lose her in the crowd. But then . . . they hadn’t let go.

“The ‘story’ of the zoo is present everywhere,” Michelle went on as they passed a kiosk selling stuffed giraffes. “But of course, they also sell toys and food. That’s the commercial aspect. First they sell you on the values, then they get you to buy the products.”

Or about Michelle. It was so fucking nice walking around with her like they were two normal people on a date, instead of former childhood friends with years of baggage and hurt who’d found themselves in some kind of sexual truce.

Because he’d had the gall to follow those dreams, even though it meant leaving his family—a cardinal sin, in his father’s eyes.

Por qué no nos dijiste?”

En la casa de Dominic y Valentina?”

Gabe’s heart stopped. This was it, this was the moment he died. In the condom aisle of a CVS, at the age of thirty-one, because his father had told him to practice safe sex.

Gabe’s face burned and he wanted to die. His father had told his mother about the condoms. Because of course he had. Why should anyone have privacy or secrets in a Latinx family?

“And we want to know what’s going on.” Jasmine leaned forward, cupping her mug with both hands. “You’ve never brought someone to meet the family. You don’t even talk about dating. And then you show up with Gabe, of all people?”

The Michelle he remembered from their teen years, who appeared unconcerned by the actions of others, who took everything in stride or turned it into a joke.

of movement, of achieving full range of motion. Consumers will associate this story with the

Except they’d never written the end. Just one more bit of unfinished business between them.

Except, this time, work wasn’t cutting it. Simple layout designs and social media graphics weren’t providing the kind of challenge she needed to make her stop thinking about Gabe. They filled the hours, but not her thoughts.

Wow. She hadn’t even felt the time passing. Her mind had been fully engaged by researching and brainstorming a project she wasn’t even officially attached to yet.

Many years ago, he’d cut his parents out of his life to save himself. And while he was a firm believer in upholding healthy boundaries against toxic people, even if those people were related by blood, he could acknowledge that he’d also done it to hurt them.

All those hours Gabe had put in at the store, stocking shelves, creating displays, prepping the bank deposits, and taking inventory. The endless tasks, on top of homework and baseball practice, had taught Gabe to focus his attention and manage his time, and had prepared him to run his own business when it came to it.

Agility Gym hadn’t been designed with celebrities in mind, but for real people with real bodies and real pain, to help them increase their mobility, decrease pain, and improve the quality of their lives.

“I’ve talked to your mother,” Esteban went on. “We should’ve considered what you wanted, should’ve let you make more of your own choices, follow your own dreams. We realize now, there were other ways. But back then? We didn’t know. Lo siento, mijo.” This was it. The thing Gabe had wanted for as long as he could remember. Acknowledgment and apology from his father.