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

by Alexis Daria

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.

And asked if he had a big dick. It made her cringe with embarrassment to think about it now. What a totally inappropriate thing to ask one’s best friend! But at the time, she’d felt like a little flirting between friends was okay, especially friends whose eyes sometimes lingered on each other’s body longer than they should. It didn’t have to mean anything, right? Hey Gabe, I got a question for ya. Yeah? You got a big dick? Do I—what? Lizzie DeStefano, Ava’s friend from St. Catherine’s, said she thinks you’ve got a big dick. I barely know Lizzie! Well, do you? . . . Do I what? Do you have a big dick?

Their relationship was complicated, mixed with love and affection, anger and hurt, and unfulfilled desire. But when she thought about Gabe, it was like a cavern opened up in her chest, a gaping emptiness where her heart and vital organs should be. If she had the chance to replace even a bit of what she’d lost, she had to take it. Maybe if he could just be in her life again, somehow, she wouldn’t feel the ache of loneliness as acutely as she had since he left.

Michelle: 3) You stay with me while you’re in New York. Gabe: What? Why? Michelle: It’s one of my conditions. If you want my help, you have to agree to it.

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

“You look good, Mich.” Her eyes cut away from the road for a second, giving him a quick, sweeping, up-and-down glance. Just as he thought she was going to say “You too,” her gaze returned to the road and she said, “I know.” 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.

“You know I wouldn’t have agreed to stay with you if you’d told me we were going to the Bronx,” he said. “Oh, I had a feeling,” she replied. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Gabe threw up his hands. “This was a trap!” “Okay, Admiral Ackbar, calm down.” “Still with the Star Wars jokes, huh?” She smirked. “You know it.”

Being here was reverting him back to his teenage self, and he didn’t want that. That Gabe had been unsure of himself, worried about what other people thought of him and his choices, too afraid to act. When he’d moved to Los Angeles, that had been one of the biggest changes he’d made. Alone, away from his family and everyone who knew him, he’d finally had the space to take decisive action, to not give a fuck what anyone thought. It had worked for him.

Eyes narrowed, Michelle propped a hand on her hip. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Oh god, she sounded just like her mother. And like a teenager caught sneaking out—because really, what else could he be doing?—Gabe cringed. His shoulders hunched up near his ears and his lips parted in a grimace. “Um . . .” He seemed to be at a loss for words, but despite the early hour and minimal caffeine, Michelle was not. Besides, she didn’t need an explanation. His intention was clear. This motherfucker was leaving her again. Michelle stomped to the bottom of the stairs and glared up at him. “You’re sneaking out. Don’t even try to make up some bullshit excuse.”

Her heart thumped at his nearness, at the spark of anger in his dark eyes. Maybe it was perverse, but she liked him like this, pissed off and prickly. The Gabe she’d known had shied away from conflict, never raised his voice, and let her take the upper hand in all their arguments. This Gabe wasn’t backing down, and it was as sexy as it was infuriating.

“I needed a clean break, and you . . .” He let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. “You were the only person with the power to drag me back here.”

“Why was I the only person?” she pressed, her tone insistent. “Why, Gabe?” The spark in his eyes was her only warning. “Because of this!” The words burst out of him like a storm. He curled his big hands around the thin straps of her tank top, clinging like they were a lifeline, and lowered his forehead to hers. His voice was harsh with longing. “God, Michelle, I want you so fucking bad I can’t think straight.”

“We’re never going to move on until we get this out of the way.” And then she went up on tiptoe, leaning her body flush against his. Lowering her voice, she whispered in his ear, “Let’s fuck.”

“Move on me, mami.” She rolled her eyes. “Dude, you did not just call me mami.” He let out a chuckle that turned into a moan when she rocked on him. “You can take the boy outta the Bronx . . .” She pursed her lips, as if holding back a smile. “Shut up. Papi chulo.”

Michelle cleared her throat. “Did we just have angry sex?” she asked softly. “Not angry,” he replied. “Just . . . mildly disgruntled.” She huffed out a laugh. “Well, this is awkward.” Gabe swallowed hard. His heart still pounded his rib cage like fists against a punching bag. “You’re right,” he rasped. “I know.” He shook his head. “No, I mean . . . we do have unresolved . . .” “Issues?” she suggested. “Baggage? Tension?” “All of that.” He turned to look into her eyes, and his heart flip-flopped in his chest. How was it possible to feel utterly satisfied but also terrified about what was to come? “I owe it to you to stay here and work this out.”

“Don’t be silly, Gabe. You were, and are, very attractive.” “Then why didn’t you make a move?” “I was about as obvious as someone could be. How many times did I sit on your lap or ask for a back massage?” “I thought you acted that way because we were best friends.” “It was because we were best friends. I trusted you. I was closer to you than anyone else outside of my family. And I thought the attraction was just . . . a natural offshoot of my affection for you, as my friend. I didn’t really think about it more than that.”

“Oh, I sure the hell thought about it. A lot.” “It did cross my mind, but as a . . . future thing. Like maybe someday we’d take that step, but I didn’t need to force it. You were a constant. My hot best friend. It didn’t bother me that we dated other people. You were still mine, and I was yours. That was all I needed. And then . . .” “And then.” He knew exactly what she meant. “I didn’t know it would be like that. Like this. And once I knew . . .” “It changed things,” he agreed.

“It didn’t have to change as much as it did.” Her eyes shone with emotion. “You really hurt me, Gabe. By lying, by leaving, and then by completely ignoring me. I know I didn’t respond well to your decision, but do you know how hard it was to reach out to you after that? Every single time, ...

“I get it. And I want to be angry at you. I am angry at you. But . . .” “But?” “I’m just so damn happy to have you back.” Her tone was raw and wistful. “And it feels better to forgive you than stay mad.” A slight pressure eased in his chest. “I’m not sure I deserve it.” “I’m not sure you do either. But here we are.”

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.

Oh fuck. Who was she kidding? Sex with Gabe was totally a big deal. Her inner teenager was freaking the hell out, bouncing off the walls and cheering, “He likes me! He really likes me!”

But there was danger here too. Gabe had fucked her how she liked to be fucked, hot and fast and a little rough. This kind of sex was impossible to ignore. It was too good, too intimate. It grounded her in the moment and forced her to be present, forced her to confront how she felt.

“Did it feel good?” he asked, voice quiet. On the floor, Jezebel reached up to paw at his knees. Michelle’s heart thumped when he leaned down to pick up the cat, but she just shrugged and turned back to the sink. “Yeah. Fine.” “Fine?” She bit back a laugh at his aggrieved response. “Maybe more than fine,” she amended. He stared at her for a second longer, then his eyes narrowed, and he said, “Michelle.” Just that. Just her name, in a low growl with a tinge of exasperation and humor, like he was trying not to laugh. He’d said her name like this before, but the growl . . . that was new. She filed it under “different” and “sexy.” “You hear that, Jezebel?” he muttered behind her. “She says it was just fine. Next time I need to show her what I can really do when it’s not three-thirty A.M. my time and she’s not rushing me.”

“Gabriel Aguilar, do you mean to tell me we’re both bi?” He grinned. “Looks that way.”

“So you’re saying it wasn’t because I’m so sexy and amazing?” He laughed at the repetition of her words from their earlier argument, grateful that she’d lightened the mood. “You are sexy and amazing.” “Thanks. Too bad no one else knows that.” “I have a hard time believing other people don’t see it. At least two-thirds of our high school baseball team was in love with you.” Including me. “Then why didn’t I date anyone on the baseball team?” “Because I said I’d go after them with a bat if they messed with you.”

“Telemarketer?” Gabe asked. “Ah, no.” Michelle made a show of looking at her laptop. “It was Ava.” Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you ignore Ava?” When they’d been kids, he’d been Michelle’s best school and neighborhood friend, but Ava and Jasmine had been her best cousins. He couldn’t imagine that had changed. Michelle’s shoulders hunched. “Um . . . she still doesn’t know you’re here.” “Really?” That surprised him. “Did you ever tell your cousins about . . .” “About the day we got high and ripped each other’s clothes off?” Michelle capped her pen with a sharp snap. “Oh yeah. They know about that.” Gabe shut his eyes. And prayed he didn’t run into Jasmine or Ava while he was here.

Starting on the elliptical to get his heart rate up, Gabe then moved to the rowing machine. He was on the weight bench doing curls when the basement door opened. Gabe glanced up and almost dropped the weight on his foot as Michelle jogged down the steps in an outfit that had him instantly going hard. He’d seen a lot of sports bras in his day. Most were functional, but not fashionable. Some were cheap spandex that didn’t do the job. And some were designed to support while still looking fantastic. Michelle’s was the latter. Her sports bra gave her an impressive amount of uplift and cleavage, and her yoga pants clung to her curves, emphasizing her hips and butt. She crossed the room and began to unfurl a yoga mat on the floor right in front of him. Setting the weights down, Gabe dropped his head into his hands and groaned out her name. “Micheeeeeeeelle.” “What?” she asked, all innocence. He heard rustling, and when he finally looked up, she was on her hands and knees on the yoga mat, her beautiful butt in the air, with a resistance band tight around her thighs. He sent her an exasperated look. “What are you doing?” “You’re the personal trainer. I should think you’d know.” And then she had the nerve to smack her ass and give him a saucy wink. “Gotta keep this baby in prime condition.”

Gabe rubbed his hands over his face to snap out of his trance. “Are you trying to provoke me on purpose?” Michelle shot him a sassy grin. “Maybe.” That was a yes. She was trying to drive him wild. Wild with need, with wanting her. How had he ever spent so much time around this gorgeous, maddening woman without losing his mind? Because he’d thought she wasn’t into him. He hadn’t wanted to push her, hadn’t wanted to ruin the friendship, hadn’t wanted confirmation of what he’d feared—that they really were just friends—followed by rejection. But she hadn’t rejected him. Then or now. “Actually, I just remembered I have to do push-ups.” Dropping down to the mat, Gabe caught Michelle around the waist and flipped her onto her back. She let out a peal of laughter, but made no move to push him away. Gabe braced himself above her, doing push-ups that brought his mouth an inch away from hers. On the third one, Michelle lifted her chin and kissed him.

Then he followed Michelle up the stairs a few paces behind. When she reached the top, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Gabe’s heart leaped into his throat. He bolted up the rest of the way and into the kitchen where he saw— Fuuuck. Michelle’s cousin Ava stared at him in horror. Before Gabe could say anything, Ava’s brows drew together, and she shrieked in an accusatory tone, “Michelle! Is that Gabriel Aguilar? And, Gabriel, where is your shirt?”

At some point they’d started holding hands, like a real couple. 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.

“You are in peak physical condition.” She gave him a look up and down. “One of us is, and it’s not me. I’m not saying I don’t look damn good, but I’m not eighteen anymore. My body has definitely changed, and I’m okay with that. Cellulite and stretch marks are natural.” He stopped and cupped her face in his hands. “I have always thought you were beautiful. Now even more so. You take my breath away, Mich.” Her chin trembled and there was wistfulness in her eyes before she looked away. “Gabriel, this is a family establishment. Stop seducing me at the zoo.” His lips quirked, but he dropped his hands. “That’s fine. I’ll wait until we get home.”

Michelle cleared her throat. “So, yeah . . . movement, flexibility—” “It still sounds like you’re talking about sex,” he muttered, and she elbowed him again. “—body parts working in harmony—” “Still sex.”

“Why is everything ten times better with you?” he said softly, lifting a hand to brush her hair back from her temple. There was a note of wonder in his voice, in the light in his eyes. “Not just sex. Everything.”

“Don’t come back,” Gabe repeated out loud, the words overlapping with his father’s voice in his mind. “That’s the last thing he said to me.” Michelle sucked in a breath. “That’s what I said to you,” she whispered, shooting him a pained look. Whatever, Gabe. Run away to California. Run away, and don’t ever come back. “I remember,” he murmured. “God, no wonder you left all of us behind.” Her voice held anguish. “None of us got it. Got you.”

Qué estás haciendo aquí?” Esteban asked, then looked at Gabe’s hands. That was when Gabe remembered he was still holding a box of condoms in each hand. “Um . . .” “This part is obvious,” Esteban said, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “I mean, ¿qué haces en el Bronx?”

“Michelle,” he blurted out. He couldn’t tell his father about the gym, and Michelle was the only other reason Gabe’s poor misfiring brain could think of in the moment. “Michelle and I are . . .” Gabe trailed off, and his father filled in the blanks on his own. “¡Por fin!” Esteban threw up his arms like this was something to celebrate. “Estabas tan enamorado de ella.” That brought Gabe up short. He hadn’t realized his father had known Gabe was so in love with her back then.

Por qué no nos dijiste?” Esteban crossed his arms. “Ah, porque . . .” Gabe cast around for an answer to why they hadn’t told anyone and settled on one that sounded legit. “We knew you’d all make a big deal about it.” “Verdad. Tu madre . . .” Esteban shook his head. “She’s going to lose her mind. You’re back, and you’re with Michelle. It’s all she ever wanted.”

“¿Dónde te estás quedando?” “I’m staying, um, me estoy quedando . . . con Michelle.”

En la casa de Dominic y Valentina?” Esteban raised his eyebrows and gave Gabe a look like, Dude, that’s bold.

“Vendrás a cenar esta noche,” Esteban said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Michelle también.” “Uh, okay. Sí.” Fuck, why had he just agreed to have dinner with his parents that night?

“I better go,” Gabe muttered, and made a move to stash the boxes back on the shelf. His dad put a hand on his arm to stop him. “¿Qué haces, muchacho? You’re not married to her yet. Necesitan practicar safe sex.”

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 met her in the kitchen, eyes wild. He shook a white paper pharmacy bag at her. “We’re caught.” Michelle looked him over, checking for blood. “What?” Gabe sucked in a breath and let it out in a rush. “My dad . . .” Michelle’s stomach sank. “Saw me . . .” She clapped her hands over her mouth. It was obvious where this story was going. Gabe squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain, then yelled, “BUYING CONDOMS!”

“It was awful, Mich. I couldn’t decide between the condom brands’ core values, and then suddenly my dad was right there.”

“I told him we were together.” She balked. “You—what? We as in you and me?” “I’m sorry.” Gabe buried his face in his hands. “He was asking me all these questions, and I was still holding the condoms, and I didn’t want to tell him about the gym—you were honestly the first reason I could think of for why I’m here.” It shouldn’t make her happy but . . . damn it, it did. “You told him we’re together in what sense?” He raised his head and his expression was bleak. “We have to go over there for dinner tonight and pretend we’ve been secretly dating.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. We’re already secretly screwing, right?” Clearly it was the wrong thing to say, because Gabe groaned and covered his face again. “What’s wrong?” “He also guilted me for sleeping with you in your parents’ house, and when I tried to put the condoms back, he lectured me about safe sex. So then I had to buy them.” “Well, that’s good, right? At least we have condoms?” Again, finding the silver lining. Ava would be so proud.

“I don’t think I can ever have sex again after that conversation,” Gabe mumbled. Then he gave Michelle’s boobs a sidelong look. “Never mind. I take that back. Somehow I’ll find the fortitude.”

“I want to show you my preliminary ideas. Did you buy the board?” “Sorry, I forgot. When I saw my dad, I think my brain short-circuited. And then I had to stand on line with him to buy the condoms.” “Oh my god. That’s terrible. I’m sorry, babe.” “You have no idea.”

God, Gabe was going to hate this. She had to get off the phone before her mother pressured her into something else. Like a proposal. “I gotta go, Mom. Jezebel is puking.” Jezebel was currently curled up on one of the dining chair cushions taking a nap, oblivious to all the turmoil surrounding her. “Not on my rugs!” Valentina cried. “No, Jez, not there!” Michelle said, so convincingly that the cat raised her head and sent her an affronted look. “Bye, Mom.”

“Oye, muchacho. I wanted to go over there right away, pero your father told me lo que estabas comprando, y él lo dijo qué I shouldn’t interrupt you.” 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?