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“You’re gonna fight someone for staring at my ass?” “Querida, I wanna fight people for staring at your face.”
“That’s a little dramatic. I can’t control how people look at me, Nicolas.” Yeah, well. I think I’ve proven she makes me a little fucking dramatic.
“Gosto mais de você do que desejo.” “I don’t know what that means.” Nick laughs. “Me neither.”
James has already found time to snitch on me; he’s a loud-mouthed gossip with a serious lack of a filter. He and Luna would be a force to be reckoned with.
it has a lot to do with the man who sat by my side for who knows how long last night, his mere presence lightening the weight of my thoughts and making them a little less suffocating.
One in particular catches my eye; I will go with thee and be thy guide, in thy most need to go by thy side.
“It was my dad’s favorite book,” he explains, a definite tremor muddying his words. “And mine.” Maybe this can be your favorite too, are the words written on the title page, and in a rare occasion, I’m stunned into silence.
"Não se faça de bobo, Nicolas,"
With Amelia, ignorance is truly bliss; she has no clue what the term of endearment means or if she does, she doesn’t care. Ma, however, knows. She knows intimately what it means because it’s what my dad used to call her.
“Você deveria ter ido com ela.”
“Ela não precisa de mim.”
It’s a weird feeling, getting wary looks from a suspected drug dealer. Bit of an ego boost, to be honest.
“I need to leave because you are everywhere, all the time, and I can’t fucking think straight. I can’t fucking breathe, Amelia. I can’t stop wanting you and I hate it because you don’t want me.”
“Nicolas Silva,” I drawl through a tempered yawn, “are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Golden eyes flash and my heart skips. “I’m not asking.”
meu amor.”
Boa menina.
“Thank you. For being there. Seems like you’re always there when she needs someone.” More like I'm always there after to clean up the mess, always a minute too late. “Don’t thank me. She’s my best friend, Cass.” Cass jerks slightly, blinking rapidly before he attempts a weak chuckle. “Shit. Knocked out of first place by my own sister, huh?”
“You’re not fine, Amelia. You’re hurt but I think you’re too scared to be or you don’t want people to see you like that so I booked a room here for a few days. No one knows you’re here, I told them you went to your dad’s place, so no one’s gonna bother you. If you want, I’ll stay but if you wanna be alone, that’s okay too. I’ll go home and collect you at the end of the week. It’s completely up to you but I think you need to stay and just hurt for a little.”
He doesn't hesitate. “You really love her.” I don’t bother denying it. “I do.” “You tell her?” “Not yet.” “What're you waiting for?”
“Can you do me a favor?” I swipe away the warm drops dampening her undereyes. “Anything, meu amor.”
I make out James' face among the crowd and the word dies on my lips because suddenly, I know. Cass crying is cause for concern. James crying is devastating.
She doesn’t believe me, I can tell she doesn’t, but that’s okay. I’ll remind her every day for the rest of my fucking life until it sticks in that beautiful, complicated head of hers.
“Thank you for listening.” “You gotta stop thanking me for common decency, meu amor.” It crushes me that she thinks not being left to sob and suffer alone deserves any praise.
“Here,” Jay reaches out a hand, “let me take your bags.” Before I can reply with a ‘no, thank you,’ a tattooed hand sneaks in my line of sight and snatches my bag away. “She’s good.”
“Beijos por favor, meu amor.”
“You're supposed to say 'thank you for breakfast, my wonderful girlfriend'.” “Thank you for breakfast, minha namorada maravilhosa,” I oblige,
Girassóis para o meu raio de sol
Their lack of coordination—as well as their clueless willingness to jump into a fight with someone who spends every fucking day practicing beating the shit out of people and someone else who looks ready to rip heads from bodies—makes me fucking cackle. Fools.
I lower my mouth to his ear. “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you. Although,” I jerk my head toward Jackson, “when we tell his girl what you said about her, she might beat me to it. Hope you aren't too attached to your balls.”
Because freaking cumulonimbus has a silver lining.
“Everybody sit, por favor, before my poor nora faints.” Nick’s laughter dries up quickfast.
“Daughter-in-law, meu amor,” he drawls. “That’s what it means.” Oh.
“Where's your 'A?'” Amelia pouts in jest. “Seems unfair.” “I'll tattoo your fucking name on my forehead if you want me to.”
Sex and pancakes. So close.
