Aloha, page 36
“I thought we had a good time,” he said.
“Right, I just feel like…maybe not.”
He reared back. “Maybe not? What the fuck does that mean?”
“I’m doing this thing where I want to be honest all the time, and I’m not really feeling it.” I offered a smile. “It’s just a vibe thing.”
“A vibe thing,” Brad’s lip curled. “You aren’t vibing with me.”
“Look, I—”
“No, it’s fine.” He put up his hands. “Eighty dollars for dinner, but sure, whatever. See you.” He turned to go, then whipped back around. “No, you know what? I’m doing a thing where I want to be super honest too.” He pointed at my chest triumphantly. “You have small tits. And I was willing to overlook that.”
I cocked my head. “My hero?”
He stormed off which was the best part of my night so far. I wasn’t even insulted. I was twenty-six and had been dating for roughly ten years; pretty sure I’d seen it all.
I walked the few blocks to my apartment. It was early yet, and all of my roommates were gathered in the living room, playing music and talking. Carter was in his favorite puffy chair, sipping wine. Dean and Claudia sat tangled up on the floor together, finishing each other sentences and laughing as usual. Mateo—tall, dark, brooding Mateo—was at the end of our couch, a beer hanging in his hands between his knees.
Carter arched an eyebrow at me as I came in and hung my patchwork sweater by the door. “It’s not even eight o’clock on a Friday evening. That doesn’t bode well.”
“You have no idea,” I said with a tired laugh.
“No love connection?” Claudia raised a brow.
“’Fraid not.” I poured a glass of red from the kitchen that faced the living area. “You got the last good one,” I said with a nod at Dean
“The tea, please,” Carter said. “Spill.”
“He’s not worth any more of my energy.” I sat on the floor near Mateo’s booted feet and smoothed my flowing dress around my knees. “I don’t know, guys. I think maybe I need to take a dating hiatus before I lose my faith in humanity.”
“I hate when that happens,” Dean mused.
“Anyway, tell me how you guys are doing.” I glanced at Mateo behind me. “You had a day off from the bar, yeah? What did you do?”
Mateo lifted one muscular shoulder in a shrug. He had a habit of wearing tight-fitting T-shirts, usually in black, that left very little of his impressive physique to the imagination. Or maybe just enough.
“Not much,” he said in his low, gruff voice and abruptly put his beer bottle on the table and got up.
“Where are you going?” Claudia asked.
“Out,” Mateo said, grabbing his leather jacket from where it hung next to my sweater, like samples from a craft store and a biker shop.
He shut the door behind him.
Carter rolled his eyes. “Under the dictionary definition of emotionally unavailable, we’ll find a picture of our sweet baby Mateo.”
“He’s a mystery and an enigma,” Claudia said and gave Dean a kiss. “I’m a lucky gal.”
“They make me sick,” Carter said to me. “The cuteness…”
“Agreed,” I said with a wink. “I’m going to bed. Good night all.”
“Good night, darling.”
I gave Carter a peck on the cheek and headed down the hall with my wine. On the way, I passed Mateo’s closed door. It was always closed. He never let anyone in.
A fitting metaphor, I thought as I went to my room that was half bedroom, half art studio.
I set the wine on the nightstand, sat cross-legged on my bed, and picked up my sketchbook and pencil. I had no plan or agenda. I just let my hand go and was surprised to find, after twenty or so minutes, I had drawn heavy brows over rich dark eyes, dark hair, square jaw. A full mouth in a perpetual grimace.
I smiled at Mateo. Such a grouch. The opposite of me or so I’ve heard. The eternal optimist. I set down the sketchbook with a sigh. That optimism was quickly waning. I was beginning to think I’d never find something like what Dean and Claudia had. I wanted someone I could just burrow into and feel safe, yet who knew I could take care of myself.
But I wouldn’t mind taking care of someone else, too.
Chapter 2
Mateo
Lucky 13 was seeing the tail end of a Saturday night rush when Luna walked in. Like a fucking comet streaking across the darkened bar. A guy got up off a stool just as she approached, and she slid gracefully onto it. Dozens of bracelets slid down her slender arms as she set her elbows on the bar, hands folded under her chin. Every finger wore rings of silver and turquoise and was smudged with paint. Her blond hair had a few random braids and poured down her back like honey.
How many times had I imagined running my fingers through that hair? Grabbing a fistful and tilting her head up to mine…
Luna shot me a friendly smile, but her eyes were direct. Everything about her was direct, except which direction her own damn heart was facing. I just knew it wasn’t aimed at me.
“Pretty happening in here,” she said.
“Typical Saturday,” I said, tossing a coaster in front of her. “What can I get you?”
“Nothing,” she said, her smile tilting. “I came to see you.”
“Me?” I said, practically shouting over the noise of the bar like a dope.
“I wanted to see you in your natural environment,” she said. “I have to say, you look very commanding. In command of this establishment.”
Is she flirting with me?
A cold sweat broke out down my spine. I shrugged one shoulder. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
Luna’s smile dimmed a little as she traced a paint-smudged fingernail over the bar. “It’s just that we’ve been roommates for a month now, and I haven’t gotten to know you as well as the others.”
“I’ve been busy,” I said. “I’m busy now.”
Nice one, asshole.
Her face fell a little, but Christ, I could pick up any woman at this bar and take her home with a look. Which I did. Frequently. But Luna? I had no fucking clue how to talk to her.
“Busy, okay,” Luna said. “Look, I know you don’t like me much—”
“Why would you say that?”
She looked amused. Seeing through bullshit was one of Luna’s superpowers.
“How about, when I walk into a room, I can start a countdown of how fast you’ll walk out.” She arched a perfect brow at me. “I think our record is twenty seconds.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You rarely make eye contact with me, and when you do, it’s one of those smoldering grimaces you’re so good at.”
Shit.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“And you cross your arms over your not-unimpressive chest whenever the roomies and I are talking about basically anything that pertains to me.”
A guy a couple of seats down was making impatient noises.
“Hold that thought,” I said.
I took care of the guy with a fresh beer, practically shoving it at him, and came back to Luna.
“And I know what you’re going to say,” she said before I could speak. “Yes, it seems like I’m awfully self-absorbed and taking all your mannerisms personally. But if that’s not the case, how come we don’t hang out?” The eyebrow arched again. “Too busy with your houseguests?”
She was referring to the parade of women that came in and out of my bedroom. What was I going to tell her? That they were distractions to keep me from pounding on her door instead?
“Maybe I don’t like you much,” I said with a hint of a smile.
“Impossible,” she said, not missing a beat. “I’m fucking delightful.”
“We’re on different schedules, I guess.”
She narrowed her dark blue eyes at me. “You sure? It seems like you’ve never warmed up to me since I took over Barry’s room. Were you guys close?”
“Close?” I smirked. “It was against his religion to do dishes, and the Cockroach Infestation of 2022 can directly be connected to his collection of half-eaten pizzas under the bed. No, we weren’t close.”
Luna’s smile brightened. “That, my friend, is the longest sentence you’ve ever spoken to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
She laughed. “Hey, look at that. We’re bantering. See, I’m not so bad.” She reached across the bar to touch my forearm. “I’m glad we cleared the air, Mateo. Don’t be a stranger, now.”
I watched her slide off her stool with mounting alarm.
“You’re not staying?” I asked, praying to every god alive my voice didn’t sound half as desperate to her as it did to me.
“I’ve got plans.”
“Another date?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Another date with another loser who didn’t know what he had sitting across from him.
“Yep,” she said. “I have a hot date with my canvas and a fresh tube of paint. I’ll see you at home.”
And then she was gracefully slipping between bar patrons on her way to the door.
“Yep,” I said to myself. “See you at home.”
I watched her go until she was out of sight. Luna Davies was fucking luminous, and the only reason I wasn’t trying to be that loser sitting across from her was because I had no clue what I had to offer. Sex, definitely. That I could do. But she liked long conversations that had depth. She had depth. She was an artist and knew exactly what she wanted. I was a college dropout, still trying to figure my shit out.
She’d been right about everything tonight—I could barely stand to be in the same room with her. The sweetest torture for the simple fact she wasn’t mine.
Chapter 3
Luna
That night, sleep eluded me. I tossed around until one in the morning. Finally, I got up and turned on the light. The first thing I saw was my sketch of Mateo staring broodingly at me from my nightstand.
Why did I draw him? I wondered, tracing my finger down the square line of his jaw.
“I’ll eventually sketch all of my roommates. I just started with him, that’s all,” I told my empty room.
I got up to go to the kitchen for a comfort-food snack to get me back to sleep. Pop-Tarts usually did the trick. I was rummaging in the cabinets, trying to be as quiet as possible, when I heard a woman’s muffled moan coming from Mateo’s room.
“So he took someone home after I visited him at the bar. So what?” I murmured, ignoring the strange twang in my heart.
I was about to scoot back to my room when his door opened. My roommate came out wearing nothing but plaid flannel pants. No shirt. Hair mussed. We’re talking postcoital by minutes. He stared at me with a peculiar look on his face. As if he were both glad to see me and sort of horrified at the same time. Then the moment passed, and he slipped on a mask of granite.
“Hey,” he grunted and reached for a water glass.
I realized I’d been loitering far too long, my eyes drawn to the perfection of his chest, the muscles cut and defined…
“Welp! Have a good rest of your evening.”
I didn’t wait for an answer but headed back to my room and shut the door. It was then I realized I didn’t have my Pop-Tarts, but there was no chance in hell I was going back to the kitchen.
Or back to sleep.
Three weeks went by as October bled into November. The energy in the house had changed somehow. Carter, Dean, and Claudia were the same as always; I don’t even think they noticed it. But Mateo had stopped bringing women home. And while my dating app sent me notifications, I didn’t have the slightest interest in looking at them.
When Mateo and I passed each other in the hallway or were together in the small kitchen, I could feel electricity or heat or both radiating off him. It was like my body had somehow become attuned to his frequency because all I could pick up was him. He had infiltrated my thoughts. And I never did get around to sketching anyone else in the house.
What the heck is going on?
He’s super-hot, so of course I’m attracted to him, I assured myself. But we lived together. Investigating the mysterious vibration could wind up being a disaster of epic proportions.
“I am not moving again this fiscal year,” I told my empty room.
I realized I was talking to myself a lot, which wasn’t like me. But many things about me that I thought I understood, I suddenly knew nothing about.
“Gather around, everybody. It’s time to play.” Dean stood in the middle of our living room, holding a stack of index cards like a game show host.
“Play what?” I asked from my usual seat on the floor in front of the couch. The coffee table was littered with our roommate-only monthly dinner. Claudia had made empanadas, Mateo brought the beer, and Carter had baked a chocolate pie from scratch. I—possessing zero culinary talent nor interest—provided the chips and guacamole.
“We’re going to play roommate trivia to see how well we know each other. First person to answer a question correctly gets a point.”
“Someone’s been watching too much Friends,” Carter said from his chair. “Is this why you’ve been peppering us with endless personal questions lately?”
“Indeed.”
“It’s not exactly fair since you and Claudia have known each other since the dawn of time and probably share toothbrushes.”
“Which is why I’m asking the questions,” Dean said. “I’ve leaked no answers to Claudia, scouts honor.”
“I think I’m at a distinct disadvantage,” I said. “Being the newbie and all.”
Dean smiled. “It’s all in fun.”
“Nonsense,” Carter said. “What’s the prize? I want a prize.”
“Fine. The person with the highest point total doesn’t have to help clean up tonight’s dinner mess.”
I glanced at Mateo, sitting behind me on the couch. I wondered why he didn’t beg off. This kind of wholesome stuff didn’t seem like his thing, but he was a few beers in. Maybe they loosened him up.
Not that I could tell.
“Are we ready?” Dean shuffled through his cards. “I’ll start with something easy. What is Carter’s favorite color?
“Blue!” Claudia exclaimed.
Dean hesitated and I jumped in.
“Robin’s egg blue.”
“Correct!”
Claudia made a face. “Oh, come on. Blue is blue.”
“I beg to differ,” Carter said, shooting me an appreciative smile. “Tiffany boxes only come in one color, and it’s not merely blue.”
“Truth!”
Claudia rolled her eyes at us and laughed.
“Next question: How long has Mateo worked at Lucky 13?”
Carter perked up. “Two years.”
“Correct! Luna teaches art to what age group?”
“Kindergarten,” Carter said, clearly pleased with two in a row. But his face fell when Dean said, “Incorrect.”
Mateo’s deep voice came from behind me. “It was kindergarten up until last June. This year, it’s first grade.”
“Correct!”
The other roommates exchanged impressive sounds. I glanced back a Mateo. “You’ve been paying attention.”
His lips quirked up in what might’ve been his smile, and he took another pull from his beer.
Dean flipped a card. “What is Claudia allergic to?”
“Playing Enya at top volume,” Carter said.
Claudia frowned. “What? I love Enya.”
“Oh, right,” Carter said. “That was my wishful thinking.”
“Ha, ha.”
I jumped in. “Scented fabric softener.”
“Correct! What is Luna’s dream vacation?”
Carter squinted. “Shit, she told me once and I can’t remember…”
“She wants to go to Maui sometime between November and February so she can see the humpback whales,” Mateo said into the quiet.
“That’s correct,” Dean said. “Mateo’s on a roll.”
I felt a strange tingle go down my spine. I vaguely remembered telling Carter that over breakfast one morning when I’d first moved in. Mateo had been in the room, but I couldn’t have imagined he cared enough to remember.
The game went on, and there was a lot of laughter and jokes, but it didn’t escape me that when a question about me came up, Mateo was first to answer.
“Final one,” Dean said. “Who in this house gets up the earliest and what time—?”
“Luna. At 6:15 am,” Mateo said before Dean could even finish.
Dean lowered his cards. “Correct.”
The apartment grew quiet. Mateo was in the process of taking another pull of beer when he realized everyone was staring at him. He didn’t look embarrassed or angry, but he didn’t look at me either. He set his empty bottle on the coffee table and went to the door.
“We’re out of beer,” he said, and then he was gone.
The others looked to me.
“What?”
“This is just like Love Actually,” Claudia said.
Carter tilted his head back. “Oh my God, of course.”
“What are you talking about?” I looked between them almost desperately.
“Andrew Lincoln was in love with Keira Knightley but acted like he could barely stand her,” Carter said.
“But then his wedding video was all her,” Claudia said.
Dean nodded. “Mateo only answered a question if it was about you. And he got them all right.”
I sat back. “That’s…stupid.”
Carter raised a brow. “Is it?”
Dean and Claudia wore soft, knowing looks.
I jumped to my feet. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t…I have to…I’ll be right back.”
I hurried out the door, a hundred different emotions bubbling up in me: exhilaration, denial, and something deeper that was thrilling but scary as hell.
Chapter 4
Mateo
