The Spanish Love Deception: Chapter 15
Going through the motions of disembarking the aircraft, getting through customs, and picking up our luggage felt a little bit like one of those strange dreams where everything around you felt fuzzy and unreal, but there was a part of you, deep down in your consciousness, that knew it wasn’t real.
Only this time, it was. And the loud thump, thump, thump in my ears was evidence of just how much.
And yet, as much as that part of me kept repeating that I would wake up while my heart kept screaming that I already was and that this was really happening, the moment the Arrivals gate came into view, my whole body froze with realization.
My suitcase wheels screeched against the floor as my two feet became rooted to the floor. Breath stuck in my throat, I watched the gates opening and closing, letting out whoever had been walking ahead of us.
I glanced at Aaron, who had been walking beside me but was now a couple of steps ahead. My overpacked bag hung off his shoulder again.
“Aaron,” I croaked, that thump, thump, thump growing louder and louder. “I can’t do it.”
Feeling as if my lungs had been filled with cement, I brought a hand to my chest. “Ay Dios.” I heaved. “Ay Dios mío.”
How had I let this get so far?
What was I going to do if everything blew up in my face?
What if I made it all worse?
I was crazy. No, I was plain stupid. And I wanted to punch myself in the face. Maybe that would snap me out of it.
My gaze roamed around desperately, probably looking for an escape. A way to get out. But I couldn’t see anything past those gates that separated us from my parents and kept swallowing passenger after passenger.
“No puedo hacerlo,” I muttered, not recognizing my own voice. “I can’t do this. I just can’t go out there and lie to my whole family. I can’t. It won’t work out. They’ll know. I’ll make a fool of myself. The fool that I am because—”
Aaron’s fingers found my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “Hey.” The blue in his eyes shone under the fluorescent light illuminating the terminal, snatching all my attention. “There you are.”
Not able to voice a single word more without completely losing my shit, I shook my head lightly. His fingers remained where they were.
“You are not a fool,” he told me as he kept staring into my eyes.
My lids fell closed for a moment, not wanting to see whatever he was looking at me with on top of everything I was barely keeping at bay. “I can’t do it,” I whispered, opening my eyes and meeting his gaze.
His voice hardened. “Catalina, stop being ridiculous.” Contrary to the gentle grip of his fingers, his command was blunt. Unsensitive, considering he was talking to a woman on the verge of flipping out.
But something in it forced me—enabled me, I realized—to take the first full breath in the last couple of minutes. So, I did exactly that. I breathed in, and then I breathed out. All the while, Aaron looked me straight in the eye with something that should have made my anxiety shoot back to the roof but that instead brought me slowly back.
“We’ve got this,” he said with confidence.
We.
That simple two-letter word somehow sounded a little louder than the rest.
And then, as if he had been waiting for me to be ready to hear it, he went for the killing blow. “You are not on your own anymore. It’s you and me now. We are in this together, and we’ve got this.”
And somehow, for a reason I knew I would never be able to explain, I believed him. I didn’t question or fight him.
Neither of us said anything else. My apprehensive brown eyes held his determined blue ones, and some kind of silent understanding passed between us.
Us. Because we, Aaron and I, had just become an us.
Aaron’s fingers dropped from my chin and wrapped around the hand that hadn’t been clutching my chest.
He squeezed gently.
Ready? he asked me without words.
I took one last deep breath, and we headed for the doors that opened to the Arrivals terminal of the small Spanish airport.
To my parents.
To this outrageously ludicrous farce we were about to embark on.
To this … what had I called it before? Oh yeah, to this whole Spanish love deception we had planned.
Because we, Aaron and I, got this.
He had said so. And I believed him.
I just hoped, for both our sakes, that he was right.
“Papá, for the last time, we are more than okay here.” My eyes searched the small room for my fake boyfriend, looking for backup.
The corner of his lips tipped up.
“Maybe if we move Abuela to your sister’s place,” Papá continued, “you two could take the big guest room in the house. Although I am not really sure if Tío José and Tía Inma will be sleeping there. Wait, let me call—”
“Papá,” I cut him off, reaching out to pat his arm. “It’s okay. This apartment is more than okay. You don’t need to move us to the house. Leave Abuela alone.”
A wave of nostalgia and familiarity hit me right in the gut. It had been so long since I had come home; all of it felt as familiar as breathing, and at the same time, it was like a memory I had not revisited in a long time. My dad and his good heart, always so accommodating. Caring too much. Trying to make everybody feel at home even if it meant going through the bedroom Hunger Games. I had been so preoccupied with dreading the moment that I had forgotten they were my family. My home. And, God, despite everything, I had missed them with all my heart.
My mom shifted from the entrance of the cramped bedroom, assessing the situation. “Ay, cariño, your father is right. No sé …” She hesitated, looking for the words. “Este hombre es tan alto y … grande.” Her gaze landed on Aaron, traveling from his head to his feet and back up again, while she shook her head with a mix of awe and skepticism.
I thought I had seen that start of a smirk on Aaron’s lips inching higher, which earned him a questioning look from me.
“I know what grande means.” That little bend of his lips was there until he turned to my mother, squaring his expression. “I appreciate your concern, Cristina. But we will be perfectly fine, sleeping here. Muchas gracias por todo de nuevo.”
Together with my mother’s, my jaw almost dropped to the floor for the second time today. The first time had been earlier in the airport, where I had first learned that Aaron did speak enough Spanish to introduce himself to my parents in my mother tongue. With barely an accent.
Quickly after, and while my jaw stayed right where it was, the grin that was reserved for a very limited number of people came alive in Mamá’s face.
Then, I watched her release a breath, half-wonder and half-resignation. As if she was fine to accept Aaron’s statement without putting up any kind of fight as long as he kept talking in Spanish. Which was something she reserved for very few too.
My very lucky and very much fake boyfriend gifted her with a polite smile.
“Catalina doesn’t take that much space anyway,” Aaron suddenly said. “We will find a way to snuggle in. Right, bollito?”
My head swirled in his direction. “Yes,” I gritted out. “We will snuggle right in.”
Promising myself he’d pay for that later, I looked at my dad in horror. Much to my dismay, I found him grinning. My mom, on the other hand, just nodded, her eyes bouncing from Aaron to me, assessing our difference in size and height.
Which, thankfully, wouldn’t be a problem. The convenient apartment that my parents rented during the high season to vacationers had two bedrooms. Just like everything about the flat, the rooms were small and functional with only what was strictly necessary. But that meant that we, Aaron and I, wouldn’t be doing any snuggling. We were not even going to be sharing a room.
Thank the heavens.
Which reminded me, it was time for my parents to leave.
“Okay, you two. Thank you, but this is enough of a welcome,” I said, walking up to them and pushing them lightly toward the door. “We have suitcases to unpack and a bachelor-slash-bachelorette party to get ready for.”
“Vale, vale,” my mom said as she grabbed my dad’s arm. “You see, Javier? They want to be alone.” Her eyebrows did a little wiggle. “Ya sabes.”
My dad muttered something unintelligible, showing that he had no interest in finding out why.
So, I ignored my mother’s innuendo, and after wrapping my parents in a big hug, I shooed them out the door. In the meantime, Aaron politely thanked them again—in Spanish, for my mom’s benefit—and remained in the corner, where he had been standing.
With my parents finally gone, I turned to Aaron and found him placing both of our suitcases on the bed. He unzipped his and started extracting pieces of clothing and toiletries.
“Actually, you don’t need to do that,” I told him, not bothering to open my bags.
Aaron cocked an eyebrow.
“We will sleep in separate rooms,” I explained.
“Oh?” That was the only thing that came from him.
Ignoring that puzzled look he had just shot me, I made my way to the hallway to lead him to what would be his room.
With his very own bed.
Right behind me, Aaron stepped in the space only a few seconds after.
“Ta-da!” I gestured with my arms. “Here’s your room. Your dresser. Your bathroom is out in the hall though. And, yeah, that will be your bed.”
I pointed at the twin bed as I took in its ridiculous dimensions. The room was much smaller than I remembered.
Glancing at Aaron, who was right by my side, I found him inspecting the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. Just how my mother had done a few minutes ago, I eyed him up and down.
Yeah. That was not going to work.
“All right,” I said, accepting he would never, ever fit there. “I’ll change rooms with you. Take the other one; it’s bigger. I’ll take the twin.”
“It’s okay, Catalina. I’ll sleep here.”
“No, you won’t. You won’t fit in that tiny bed,” I pointed out the obvious. “Not even diagonally, I think.”
“It’s fine. Go unpack your things. I’ll make it work.”
“You won’t. There’s no way you can sleep here,” I insisted, ignoring the dirty look Aaron sent me over his shoulder.
“I will.”
Stubborn, hardheaded man, I thought.
“You are the only hardheaded one here,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at the mind reader. “Well, if you want to be my pot, I’d gladly be your kettle.” I pointed at the bed. “Prove it. Show me you fit in there, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Aaron sighed as he uncrossed his arms and brought a hand to his face. “Would you just—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “You know what? This one time, I’m going to humor you. Just to avoid wasting away both our lives, arguing over this until we are rolling on matching wheelchairs.”
He was wrong; matching wheelchairs was something that would never be in my plans where Aaron Blackford was concerned.
In two strides, my fake and very tall boyfriend was right in front of the modest twin.
He won’t fit. I was sure of it. So, I leaned back and waited for him to prove how right I was.
As soon as Aaron climbed onto the tiny piece of furniture, the mattress bounced a little too wildly under his weight. With a loud squeak, he adjusted his body, lying on his back. Changed his position a couple of times as the mattress complained under his weight. Nothing.
He. Did. Not. Fit.
Taking in the clearly larger-than-the-bed man in front of me, feet dangling off of the frame and glaring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but let the grin I had been fighting finally break free.
It wasn’t the fact that I had been right all along. Nope. The satisfied and toothy smile that split my face had everything to do with the grumpy Aaron who was lying diagonally on the tiny twin bed with a scowl that went for miles. The best part was that he had humored me and proven it, just because I’d told him to. Just because we were equally stubborn.
And that … only made me grin wider.
Walking closer, I didn’t turn down the megawatt smile as I looked down at him. “Comfy?”
“Very.”
“I just bet you have never been this comfortable in your life.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine,” Aaron said as he sat up, the springs in the simple and—let’s face it—most likely cheap mattress creaking loudly under his weight. “So you were right,” he continued as he moved to the edge, trying to leave a bed that seemed to be turning into quicksand, swallowing each of his movements. “Now, if you would just—”
Before I could even realize what was happening, the structure of the bed gave in with a big bang, engulfing part of the mattress and Aaron along with it.
A gasp shot out of me as my hands flew to my mouth.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Aaron growled.
“Oh my God, Aaron.” The cackle that left my mouth as I stared at the grumpier-than-ever man sitting in the middle of the box spring catastrophe was probably heard all the way in New York City.
He didn’t look anywhere near okay if the way he glowered was any indication.
But I asked anyway, “Are you okay?” I tried to sober down; I did. But I couldn’t hold in the laughter. So, I laughed.
Then, I laughed louder.
“Yes. All good,” he grunted. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Okay, but just in case …” I stretched my hand to help him out, but both of us froze when a holler came from the entrance door of the apartment. A voice that sent shivers down my spine.
“Hola!” a pitchy shrill called.
Was that …
“Hay alguien en casa?” that voice I realized I knew—and I was related to—called again.
No.
The woman whose red hair I was almost certain was about to make an appearance in about two seconds asked if there was someone at home. As if she hadn’t probably known already.
Charo. My cousin Charo was in the apartment. And judging by the quick clicking of her heels, she’d be in the room in about—
“Ay, pero mira qué bien. Someone is christening the bed.” A giggle that was not adorable and was outright evil instead reached my ears from behind me.
Understanding flashed through my fake boyfriend’s face.
Not caring to wait for my response, my cousin continued babbling, “Look at this mess.” She tsked. “After being single for so long, one would think you were out of practice, Linita.”
I grimaced. Way to put it out there, prima. My eyelids shut on instinct, and I felt a blush climbing up my throat.
“Because, really, how many years have gone by since the whole thing with Daniel exploded? Three? Four? Maybe more.”
Oh sweet Lord, I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t believe Charo had gone straight to that after barely saying hello. And in front of Aaron. I didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to look in his direction for that matter. Couldn’t that busted and mangled bed swallow me up too?
And just like that, my wish was granted.
Aaron tugged off my arm and pulled me right with him, ripping a squeal out of me. Right onto the chaos that used to be a twin bed. My body ended up sprawled half on top of him. Not for long though because before I knew what was really happening, his large and meaty arms flipped me onto his lap. Turning me to face my cousin Charo and causing my body to go as stiff as a broomstick at the change of positions.
Holy shit, I am on Aaron’s lap. Back to front. Ass on … yeah. On his lap.
“I’ll take the blame for all this.” His deep voice came from very freaking close behind me as I slowly recounted all the body parts I felt pressed against my own much softer ones. Thighs, chest, arms, all hard and flushed against my back. Against my ass. Against my own thighs and … I had to stop thinking of body parts. “Hard to resist myself really.” My fake boyfriend’s words entered my ears at the same time I noticed the muscles underneath me flexing. “Right, bollito?”
Oh my God.
He was … I was … I just—
“Right,” I croaked, “osito.”
Charo beamed at us, one hundred percent satisfied with the show. She had just gotten to the apartment and already obtained a story I’d be hearing about for the next ten years. The time Lina and her boyfriend broke that twin bed. I bet she’d add stuff that never happened, maybe that she had seen Aaron naked or something.
A mental image intruded my mind. One of Aaron. Sans clothes. With all those muscles I was feeling—
No. No. No.
“Ay, look at you two,” my cousin said, bringing her hands under her chin. “You look so adorable together. And, Lina! I never thought you’d be this kind of crazy.” Charo wiggled her eyebrows.
Aaron’s hand landed on my knee, the contact branding the skin under my jeans. God, I could feel him all around me. If I relaxed my spine, I’d snuggle right into him.
That warm palm squeezed my thigh.
I kept losing my focus, and now, Charo seemed to be waiting for me to say something.
“Oh yeah.” I recapped as fast as I could. I needed to get out of here. Off Aaron. The position we were in was too distracting. In a very, very, very bad way. “Erm. Yes, crazy. Oh, you bet! This is all super crazy,” I said, squirming in Aaron’s lap as I unsuccessfully tried to make my way out of the man-sized black hole that had sucked me in. “It is crazy because I am super crazy. Crazy about him, that is.” I squirmed some more, realizing I might be stuck somewhere between his large thighs. Keep talking. “Like, so crazily in love, it’s even crazy, you know what I mean? So crazy—”
“I think she got it,” my fake boyfriend whispered in my ear, sending a stupid shiver rushing across my whole body.
I kept shifting further in his lap, ignoring how everything I felt underneath me—or my ass, more specifically—was solid and warm. No, hot. It was hot. Muscles upon muscles upon more muscles. Some of them becoming harder with every useless effort I made.
Oh my gosh. Oh Dios mío. Was that … no. It couldn’t be. Aaron couldn’t be … aroused.
Desperate, I tried to propel myself off him one more time, obtaining a little grunt from Aaron’s lips. It landed on the back of my neck as a puff of air.
“Stop,” he breathed in my ear. “That’s not helping with the situation.”
I immediately obeyed, forcing my body to relax into him. Okay, I have this. Think of it as a chair. A throne. Not Aaron. Just a hard man-sized throne.
I gave my cousin a fake smile. “So, what are you doing here, Charo?”
“Oh, I was going to stay with a friend for the wedding weekend, but the bathroom in his apartment flooded or something, and I have no choice but to sleep here instead,” she explained with a little wave. “I’m sure you thought you had the place to yourselves, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows again. “I swear I won’t be in the way. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
There was only one way we wouldn’t notice Charo snooping around, and that included hard-core narcotics.
“Great. Well, we should really unpack and let you do the same,” I announced from my position on my Aaron throne. I cleared my throat. “Yeah, all right. Let’s do that,” I added, neither Aaron nor me moving. I cleared my throat very loudly. “Don’t you think we should get going, osito?”
Before I could ask, Aaron’s big hands were on my waist, and I was lifted off his lap and then up in the air. With shaky legs, I landed in front of my cousin.
Whoa, okay. So, it could have been that easy.
Aaron—who had mysteriously regained his usual agility—followed suit, leaving behind him the spring and wood disaster.
“I haven’t introduced myself.” Aaron stretched out one of the hands that had been wrapped around my waist a little more than a second ago. The one hand that had squeezed my thigh. “Soy Aaron. Un placer conocerte.”
My cousin—who I suspected had already requested all of Aaron’s available information from my mother—took his hand and pulled him to her. “Ay y habla Español! El placer es mío, cariño.” She planted one kiss on each of his cheeks.
Yeah, I was sure she hadn’t been lying when she said the pleasure of meeting him was all hers.
After my cousin released Aaron, who looked a little dumbfounded, she engulfed me in a hug too. “Come here, prima. I have kisses for you too.” And she added in a whisper so only I could hear it, “¿Dónde tenías escondido a este hombre?”
Where were you hiding this man?
I chuckled. “Oh, prima, if you only knew.”
Stepping away from my red-haired relative, I was startled by the contact of Aaron’s palm on the small of my back.
I jumped back, right into his front.
Aaron looked down at me, a question in his gaze. “Go ahead to our room and start unpacking. I’ll take care of this mess for your cousin.”
That was … so very thoughtful. I had forgotten about it. Apparently, leaving my cousin to deal with a broken twin bed wasn’t high on my priority list.
“Uy, no, no.” Charo intervened before I could apologize. “I will call Tío Javi,” she said, referring to my dad as Uncle Javi. “You two go and settle in. I’m sure you are exhausted from the trip. Just make sure not to break the other bed too.” She accompanied that with a cackle. “I can take the blame for this one but yours? That would be an awkward conversation with your dad.” Then, she winked.
Without more than a thank-you, we shuffled back to what would be our room.
Our room, which we had to share now.
Dammit.
We’d better unpack and try to get comfortable. If that had been any indication of what was ahead of us during the upcoming days, my fake boyfriend and I were in for a messy ride.
Suitcases almost empty and all wedding attire already hanging in the closet, I sent a sideways glance at the bed in our room. I had been doing that for the last fifteen minutes.
I’ll be waiting here, it seemed to sing, making me wish it would magically crumble down and disappear too.
“Stop worrying. I can sleep on the floor if it makes you that uncomfortable.” Aaron looked at me, eyebrows creased.
“I’m not worried,” I lied.
Sharing a bed with Aaron was something I hadn’t expected. Or planned for. My parents had said only we would be staying in the apartment. Most of the guests were from the region, and the ones who weren’t would be arriving only for the big day.
“We are adults, and we have known each other for almost two years now. We can be civil and share the bed. At least it’s a double. And it’s standing up.”
“I’ll tell your parents that I will take care of the other one. I’ll pay for the damages.” There was something in his voice. He sounded pensive and almost … embarrassed?
“You don’t have to, Aaron.” And I meant it. “It wasn’t your fault. The bed had lasted more than it should have, really. These things … happen.”
Grabbing a couple of shirts off my suitcase and unfolding them, I pondered my own words. Never in my life had I witnessed that firsthand, but hey, these things did happen. Maybe to Aaron they had. Maybe he had destroyed dozens of beds. Reducing them to a mess of wood and springs. He was a large man, one who was built too. Beds could very well give out and burst under his weight. Maybe if he moved around too much. Or if he dropped his body on them with certain force. Or if he engaged in activities that tested the resistance of the frame and springs and—
No, no, no. I kicked out of my head that image of a sweaty and naked Aaron doing—
No.
“Okay,” Aaron said, zipping closed his emptied suitcase. “And if you are sure we can share the bed, then we will. With a little luck, this one won’t shatter too.”
A whole new mental image ambushed me. One very similar but that now included me and—
Nope. I needed to stop this nonsense.
“It’s settled then,” I said, getting rid of those unwanted thoughts and ideas. “No sleeping on the floor. We can’t risk getting caught, having Charo around. Couples share beds.”
“And we would get caught exactly how? Does your cousin go around, entering bedrooms she doesn’t sleep in?”
“Well, Aaron, I really wish I could tell you she didn’t, but I would be lying.”
Years had taught me that Charo was unpredictable.
“So”—I changed the subject—“in a couple of hours, we will be meeting the youngest members of the Martín clan for phase one of the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party.”
“A little briefing, please?” he queried. Aaron had finished unpacking—which I hadn’t—so he leaned his back on the wardrobe that was in the corner of the room and gave me his full attention.
“You’ll be delighted to hear that we will spend the day outside, enjoying the warmth of the Spanish sun on our skin and doing something that has nothing to do with sipping mimosas and getting massages. Which was my idea.” I walked to the narrow dresser and grabbed a neat stack of towels. “My maid-of-honor duties were overruled by one of my youngest cousins, Gabi.” I placed the towels on the comforter. “And that means only one thing.” I paused dramatically. “The Wedding Cup.”
“The Wedding Cup?” A chuckle left Aaron’s lips.
Strangely, that little noise made me want to smile. I ignored it and gave him a rundown of how we’d be occupying our day instead.
“In the Wedding Cup”—I sighed—“Team Bride, which is composed of all the females invited to the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party, competes against Team Groom, which will be composed of the male ones.” I said that last part with sarcasm. “Real refreshing, huh? Boys against girls, competing in a series of games and activities. Yay.”
Aaron nodded, not taking any side. “I can tell, you are very excited. But please continue.”
I sent him a look. “The team that collects more points will secure the win and obtain the Wedding Cup.”
“And is this cup a physical trophy or just a symbolic reward?” Aaron asked, and I could tell he was trying to take this seriously. Unsuccessfully. He could barely contain his amusement.
“Listen”—my arms went to my hips in an attempt to make myself look imposing—“I told you I was not in control of this. I am more of a representative maid of honor. My cousin Gabi is one of those fitness-obsessed people, and she organized the whole thing. So, just be glad that you are not stuck with me on your team.” Picking up my toiletry and makeup bags, I walked to the modest en suite bathroom as I kept absently filling Aaron in while I placed all my things on the narrow space available. “I am not happy about this, okay? If it were for me, we would be at a spa while you guys went somewhere to do … guy stuff.”
“Guy stuff?” I heard Aaron’s voice coming from the bedroom.
“Yeah, punch your chests, drink beer like it’s the end of your lives, or go to a strip club. What do I know?” I shook my head, knowing I was being a little too stereotypical. “But no,” I continued, placing a travel-sized container of shampoo on the counter. “We couldn’t be so lucky. Funny enough, the one on board with this thing is Gonzalo. Who would have thought? A stupid competition over enjoying his last day as a bachelor away from his bride. Not that I’m shocked. Gonzalo has been crazy about my sister since the moment he laid eyes on her. So, why would he want to spend a day away from her?”
What they had was the real stuff. Honest, devoted, palpable love. The one that transcended distance, differences, and obstacles. The kind that was meant to be written about in books. Thinking of it filled my chest with warmth and longing for something I didn’t know I’d ever be able to find.
“Anyway, Gonzalo is the Wedding Cup’s biggest cheerleader. And something tells me, he’ll be more than thrilled when he sees you. He’ll holler and bro-hug you, and you’ll be his new best friend. I can tell. Gon is so competitive, always has been, so he’ll be over the moon to have the closest thing to a freaking Greek god on his team. Straight out of Olympia.” I snorted.
Aaron did look a little like one of those sculptures. All stoic with smooth and symmetrical lines. Gonzalo would love Aaron on the—
Hold up.
What did I just say?
My eyes closed at the realization that I had called Aaron a god. A Greek one. Out of Olympia. Out loud.
Oh, please, bathroom walls, be thick and soundproof. Please.
Sensing his presence somewhere behind me and considering the dimensions of both the room and en suite, I remained very still.
I opened my eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror in front of me.
Aaron was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let my eyes travel around the counter, taking in everything and making my way up until finding Aaron’s gaze on the mirror.
“Chances of you not hearing me from the bedroom?” I ventured.
“It depends.” I watched his throat work, swallowing. “How good of hearing do Greek gods have?”
I had two options: own it like the grown-up woman I was, or ignore this had just happened and be a total chickenshit.
Rearranging every item I had just placed on the shelf in silence, I opted for the latter, all the while feeling his gaze following my every move.
A moment later, I sensed Aaron turn around, but before he walked away, I called for him, “Oh, and, Aaron?” I watched the reflection of his back in the mirror. “The losing team has to perform a choreographed dance tonight.”
No answer came from him, but when he finally took a step away, I could perfectly imagine the competitive gleam coming alive in his eyes.