As I fume in the backseat, Dad explains that breaking our annual tradition is something he thinks I’d regret in the future. Awesome. Now even my life’s regrets are being decided for me, and they haven’t even fucking happened yet.
I find this absolutely egregious. I don’t care that they’re family friends. My parents could have compromised. They could’ve gone out for dinner with Nico’s parents on their own, sparing me from having to spend any time with Nico. But noooooo, God forbid we break tradition. The world will end!
We arrive at Aunt Paula’s house in the early afternoon. She’s the only one of Mom’s sisters who isn’t married yet, and she owns a gorgeous beachfront property. Some people think there needs to be snow on the ground in order for it to be a real Christmas, but having grown up in Florida, for me the holiday season is sunshine and palm trees and the salty spray of the ocean on my face.
I’m still fuming by the time it’s time to leave for Nico’s house. As Dad searches for where he left the car keys, Mom notices my face and pulls me aside. “Mami, I know you don’t like this—”
“You’re right, I hate it,” I growl.
“But your father made his decision, and you need to make the best of it. Dora and Joaquín are going to be in our lives regardless of whether you and Nico are dating. Dora is like a sister to me, and Papa views Joaquín as a brother.” Mom’s tone softens. “It’s not easy for you, I know. But this is what happens when families are woven so tightly together. So, please, let this be your first test—a test to see if the two of you can be around each other without hostility. Nico is willing to try. He told Dora he was fine with this.”
Of course he’s fine with it. He probably thinks we’re getting back together. That’s what he’s been saying to Darius since the second we broke up.
But Mom is right. The Delgados are their closest friends. They’re family. I have no choice but to suck it up.
I’d debated looking extra hot tonight, but I didn’t want Nico getting any ideas. So I did the opposite—I dressed down. A plain white dress, knee-length and with a modest neckline, paired with flat brown sandals, not even a hint of a heel. My hair is tied in a low ponytail with a red bow. I look like a child who’s going to perform some cringe-worthy song for the adults after dinner.
Perfect.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re entering the familiar house where I’d spent so much of my time. I honestly never envisioned Nico and me not being together for the holidays.
Or that I’d be sleeping with another guy.
On the regular.
My rebound with Hunter didn’t stop after Conor’s party. We slept together again the next day. And the day after that, and then the day after that. Yesterday we stayed up all night having sex, even though I had to get up early to meet my parents at the airport.
My body is already craving him again. I’m addicted to it. I never thought I’d be sleeping with a jock, but I kind of understand now why so many women love athletes. God. All those rock-hard muscles. The sheer strength of their bodies. Yesterday Hunter lifted me onto his dick and fucked me standing up against my bedroom wall. Apparently everyone in the house heard the wall banging, and my sorority sisters teased me mercilessly about it this morning. But they’re happy for me. Hell, I’m happy for me. I deserve good sex with a man who isn’t sexing up everybody else too. Every woman deserves that.
Nico’s family greets me warmly. His little sister Alicia flings her arms around my neck and shrieks, “Oh my God, it’s been forever!” She’s thirteen and has always viewed me as a role model of sorts. I’m the one she called when she got her first period last year.
Dora greets me with smacking kisses and a bear hug, and then Joaquín steps forward to give me a hug.
“Damn fool,” he mutters.
I frown slightly. “What?”
His expression turns wry. “My son’s a damn fool.” He says the words softly, so only I can hear him.
My frown dissolves into a faint smile. “Yep.”
Nico still hasn’t come downstairs, thank the Lord. I hope he’s cowering in his bedroom. My family is ushered into the living room, where I’m fussed over by Dora and Alicia while Joaquín prepares drinks for my parents.
Then I hear his voice. “Demi.”
I turn slowly. Unlike me, Nico did make an effort with his appearance. He chose black trousers and a white shirt with the top button undone. His hair is slicked back and he’s fully clean-shaven. He looks really good, but the sight of him only evokes mild indifference. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since the night we broke up. I thought it might be awful when we eventually came to face to face. That my heartbeat would accelerate, that I’d experience a pang of longing.