Before You (10 page)

“W
hat's wrong?”

Anita yells to me over the music. I can't answer her right away. My body has gone still in the middle of the dance floor. I'm dead weight. Seaweed in an ocean, anchored to the floor, swaying with the current.

“Are you okay?” Anita asks.

“What? Yeah. I just, um.” I can't get my words right. I can't concentrate.

“You sure?” Anita asks. “ 'Cause you don't look too hot.”

What is Faith doing at the club? Should I go talk to her? And why is she dancing up on that guy?

I start dancing again. I hear the music, but I no longer feel it. I don't know when it happened exactly, but at some point Faith became more than a
gringa
to me.

“You're not as into it,” Anita says.

That's because Faith is looking right at me. A challenge, almost. She moves smoothly, like she is the music.

Then she looks away. I don't know why, but it angers me. Maybe if I close my eyes, I can rid my brain of her.

Creamy skin. Stop. Coppery hair. Stop. Her.

No matter how hard I try, it doesn't work. I decide to dance nearer to Faith, bringing Anita with me.

The guy Faith is with momentarily blocks my view. I don't like how close he is to her. I thought she had a boyfriend. I also thought she was falling for me a little bit. When I leaned into her that day, she didn't pull away. And there was the library thing. No matter what she says, I felt the race of her pulse.

When Faith brushes hair off her shoulder and the guy leans further into her, I think I'm going to lose it.

I pull Anita into me. My hands are on her hips, my pelvis moving against her.

“That's what I'm talking about,” Anita says.

Too bad I'm not doing it for her. This is strictly for Faith. She's going to act like she doesn't know me? We'll see about that.

Though the lines are once again blurring, I don't back down. I hate to lose. And more than that, I hate to see Faith with another guy.

Faith looks up and winces. I can't help grinning.

That's what I thought,
mami
.

She feels something.

Faith recovers from her slipup and tilts her head to one side, letting the guy place a kiss on her neck.

I'm thinking about punching him in his face. I know Faith is messing with me on purpose. She wants a reaction from me.

When I glance back at Anita, she regards me strangely. She peers at Faith, and then at me again.

“Oh,” she says, “I get it.”

“
Lo siento
,” I say.

Surprisingly, Anita places a finger on my mouth. “Been there. No worries.”

So it's like that? Competitive. Staking a claim.

“What do you say we give her a taste of her own poison?”

“You sure?” I ask.

Anita wraps her arms around my neck and dances up on me. Over her shoulder, Faith watches. One way or another, I'm going to make Faith come to me.

The song changes. The beat pounds faster. Faith smiles slyly and I think for a second that she might approach, but instead she presses the back of her body firmly against the front of the guy and wraps her arms behind his neck.

I'm trying not to lose it. That should be me behind her
.
When his palms start a slow crawl up Faith's stomach, I have to clench my hands on Anita's hips. It's the only way to control my fingers, which are itching to reach for her.

What's wrong with me?

I should not be playing this dangerous game, but I can't look away.

My hands cascade down Anita's body like a misting of rain. I make sure Faith sees.

Faith's eyes are hard, upset. Good, because I don't think I can keep this up much longer. I need to go to her, but I wish she would come to me. I hate giving up control. I know that's what Faith wants. And I'm pretty sure she knows I want her to do the same. So the question is: Who breaks first?

Me, apparently, because when she turns around and the guy leans down like he might kiss her, I get in his face.

“Mind if I cut in?” I say. It's not a question. I will be cutting in whether he likes it or not.

I don't have time to worry about Anita. She'll understand. Or not.

“We were kind of in the middle of something,” the guy says.

“Yeah? Not anymore.”

“Look, dude—”

I cut him off. “No, you look,” I say. “This is not an option.”

He looks from me to Faith. I don't have time for his indecision. I push him aside and pull Faith to me. He walks away. Smart move.

“Where's your boyfriend,
mami
?” I say into her ear. Now I'm behind her and she's pressed against me.

Like it should be.

She twists slightly to answer. A draft from the ceiling fan softly blows her hair.

“I don't have a boyfriend,” she answers.

This stuns me. “Seriously?” I ask.

I'm almost yelling, trying to be heard over the pounding beat.

“Seriously,” she says.

I grin. “Is that why you're letting that dude dance all over you and tryin' to make me angry?”

“Yes,” she answers. “What about you with your hands all over that girl?”

She's admitting it. Out loud. Letting words become concrete evidence.

“What about it?” I shrug. She knows I'm jealous, though I can't admit it aloud.

Faith takes a step like she's going to leave, but I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against me.

“Dance with me,” I say into her ear.

She looks back and bites her lower lip, undecided.

I brush tresses of hair over her shoulder toward her face. Faith is dangerously close. I don't want her to leave. From behind, I take note of her bare back. Her skin is everywhere, intoxicating, alluring.

I place a kiss on the nape of her neck. She shivers. I kiss one shoulder, then the other. She goes loose in my arms.

“Dance with me,
mami
,” I repeat.

This time she does. She moves slowly at first, like she's nervous.

“You can do better than that,” I challenge.

She moves more to the beat, still holding back.

“You scared?” I ask, taunting.

Faith whips her head back and gives me a glance layered with seven hundred pounds of confidence.

“I am not scared,” she replies.

“Then prove it,” I say. “Give me all you've got.”

W
ith Diego dancing behind me, I decide to let loose. I swear my soul shudders, mimicking the release of pressurized air, finally relaxing into its natural state.

He shouldn't have taunted me. Or more like, I shouldn't have let him. I could have walked away. I walk away from everything I want in life. Not this time. Because I know, as much as I've tried to deny it, that I want Diego tonight.

I don't want to think about tomorrow. I don't care about the world or its standards. I don't think about my past or what brought me to this moment. Tonight, I refuse to acknowledge anything but Diego and me moving together like we're one.

His fingers trailing up my arms incite goose bumps, though the club is hot and I'm sweating. Diego notices, and chuckles in my ear. He places a kiss on my neck and I groan. When he kisses my spine, my knees almost buckle.

I turn to face him. His lips are slightly parted, his breath on my forehead. I breathe him in, run my hand down his stomach, mold myself to him. My skin is steaming. His skin is steaming.

“
Mami,
” he groans. “You're drivin' me
loco
.”

“Good,” I say.

He grins, his hooded eyes like a partially drawn shade.

“You sure you want to do that?” he asks.

Tonight, yes.

I lean into his ear. “I thought you only wanted to get under my skin.”

I say it because I know now, by the look in his eyes, by the way they are drinking me in, that he wants more.

“At first I did,” he admits.

“And now?”

He pulls back and looks at me. With one hand, he cups my cheek. I don't back away. He moves his hand to my hair and leans down to my ear.

“If you're 'bout to say ‘psych' again, I'll lose it.”

I'm not messing with him. I really want to hear it. “Not this time,” I reply.

With a brave finger, I trace the muscles in his shoulders, sinewy, taut, almost edible. “Tell me,” I request.

The song ends. A new one begins.

“What do you want to hear?” he asks. “That I want you?”

“If that's the truth,” I answer. I'm taking down my wall, one brick at a time. I don't dare take a break. I can't catch my breath. If I do, I'm afraid I'll change my mind.

“Faith, you know I want you,” Diego says, moving against me. “It almost broke me to see you dancing with that
hombre.
”

It feels good to hear him say it. I let his hands roam my body as we dance. First my hips, then my stomach. Touching. Teasing. I skim his shoulders, the muscles of his back. Something inside me craves him. I shiver at his touch. Song after song, I stay pressed against him, hypersensitive with desire. I forget about my secrets. I don't think about Jason, about how I've hidden in the shadows for years. All I know is here and now.

“Faith!” Someone calls my name over the music. It's Melissa. She's smiling.

“What's up?” I yell back.

She points to her watch-free wrist. Almost curfew.

“I have to go,” I say into Diego's ear.

I don't want to go.

He wraps his beautifully tattooed arms tighter around me.

“Stay with me,” he says. A command.

I want to. Really, I do. If only time could stand still. An infinite mirror image of here and now.

“Can't,” I say.

He stops dancing. His expression tells me he's disappointed. “Let me walk you to your car,” he offers.

Diego keeps an arm around me as we approach the front of the club. On a couch near the door, I recognize someone from Diego's lunch table, from my psychology class, too. He stands when he sees us.

“Yo, Diego! You leavin'?” he asks.

“Just walking Faith out,” Diego answers. “By the way, Faith, this is my cousin, Javier. Javier, this is Faith.”

Javier is big like Diego. I see the resemblance. But unlike Diego, Javier looks clean-cut, except for a few scars. No visible tattoos.

“I'll catch up with you in a minute,” Diego tells his cousin.

Near the couch, I spot the girl Diego was dancing with.

I continue out the door and into the parking lot. The sky is the color of a bruise. Stars punch tiny holes in the canopy above, try to squeeze into the small pits, just barely fit. I cast my eyes down. Melissa parked far away. I'm thankful for Diego's presence.

Up ahead, I make out the silhouettes of my best friend and her sister. Melissa's distance from me is no accident.

I can't stop thinking about the other girl. “Did you come with her?” I blurt.

Diego smiles. “
¿Por qué, mami?
You jealous?”

Absolutely.
“Maybe.”

“Don't worry about her,” he says.

We stop walking. I lean into him. He's one concrete pillar of hope and I'm one melted puddle of desire. And jealousy. It shouldn't matter if he came with that girl, or if he leaves with her. But for some reason, it does. The thought is acidic, burning, bubbling.

“She likes you,” I say.

Diego brushes a drop of sweat from my back. “I'm not goin' home with her,” he says, like he read my mind, like he knows my thoughts. Perhaps he does. Perhaps they are merely flipped images of his own. In sync. On point.

I peek up. His face is just above mine. Though I have practically memorized his features, I'm caught off guard. As if I don't recognize him in this new light. I gaze at his lips and hear him chuckle.

I argue with myself. I should walk away. I should thank him for the most amazing dancing of my life and leave. I definitely should not be thinking about what his mouth tastes like.

But I'm losing the battle. I reach a finger to his lips and carefully trace them, hoping he won't notice the tremble, the longing rippling through my blood, through my fingertip.

He groans and my whole body reacts to the noise. Just the sound of his pleasure drives me crazy. A hundred million sparks ignite inside me. I cannot take it.

I kiss him.

There is nothing slow about it. His tongue flicks out and I meet it with mine. His hands wind through my hair and pull softly, bringing me closer to him. I gently bite his lower lip and tug. Our kiss is wild, unplanned. Nothing like my life.

I am wrecked inside. Totally and completely shattered. Lit on fire by his touch.

Diego kisses down my neck and back up to my mouth. I have never been kissed like this by anyone. I didn't know that a kiss could be powerful enough to reach deep inside and linger.

I kiss him harder, wanting more. My hand wraps around the back of his neck, pressing him into me.

“
Mami,
” Diego says against my parted lips. “Unless you plan on takin' me home with you, we have to stop.”

I can tell it pains him to say it. I don't want to stop just yet. When he goes to pull away, I kiss him again.

“Do you know what you're doing to me?” he asks.

In the back of my mind, I know I need to leave. But I'm afraid that if I do, I may never be with Diego like this again.

I give him one last kiss before I pull away. He looks hungry for me. It brings a smile to my face, knowing I did that to him. I broke through the tough, impenetrable Diego.

I don't bother with words. I don't want anything to ruin the moment. I simply walk away.

With the taste of Diego on my lips.