Chapter 35 Naughty girl
I'm living in another dimension.
Because no way in hell did I sleep with an anonymous man who ended up being my boyfriend's brother, who is now arguing with my footballer cousin about who is the best quarterback to ever live.
The table at Sunday lunch is complete chaos as it always is, with my family members shouting over each other to be heard, and children stacked on laps being fed.
The world probably thinks we're rich individuals who care about aesthetic, when in reality this is us. Unfiltered and unbothered. And I love it.
And it seems Miguel is fitting right in who comes from stiff dinners and quiet atmospheres.
"That man is to die for." Uncle Dario whispers in my ear next to me. "I think it's the Columbian blood in him. Did you know they say Latin men have the biggest cocks?"
I choke on the noodles that's halfway down my throat and uncle Dario has to thump me on my back before he hands me a glass of water.
"You okay there baby girl?" Mom asks from across the table where she's cooing at Aurora.
"Fine." I cough out and take a huge gulp of my chilled white wine.
I am never going to survive this fucking lunch.
"You're blushing." Uncle Dario chuckles. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it. God, have you seen him in his uniform?"
These are not the kind of thoughts I should be having, especially not in my current predicament. But do I get a reprieve? Hell no, because my uncle is now browsing on Instagram until he shoves his phone under my nose.
I did not expect Miguel to be on social media. I've never even seen him laugh until now, and it's a site to behold. His laugh is deep, rich and manly, with his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down.
I have no choice but to look at the damn post
Like I thought, it's not Miguel's Instagram, but that of a fellow Navy SEAL. Their expressions are stoic as they stand at a coffin covered in the American flag.
He does look ridiculously handsome in his formal navy suit, but it's the expression in his eyes that has me gulping. Even though he looks stoic and put together, there is a sadness there that pulls at my gut.
I've never thought much about what he does but it's probably dangerous.
"So what do you do in the Navy, Miguel?" Uncle Dario asks, and the whole table goes quiet to focus on him.
His face loses the jolly expression he had, before he smiles charmingly and winks at my uncle. "That's classified."
"Ooh sexy." Uncle Dario groans which earns him a dirty look from his husband. "Do you have a code name?"
Those ocean blue eyes turn to me while he slowly takes a sip of his beer. "If I tell you, I have to kill you."
Everybody around me laughs, but horror settles in the pit of my stomach when I remember the way he easily slit that guy's throat. No hesitation, not even a struggle. The cut was clean and flawless.
"Excuse me." I quickly get up and rush to the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind me, trying to catch my breath while my heart beats a mile a minute.
I'm in way over my head here.
Miguel Cargill is a fucking Navy SEAL, and by the looks of it, a highly skilled, trained one at that. He's a fucking killer who knows how to end a life with a flick of his wrist.
And he said he would kill Ben if I let him touch me.
He was looking at us on the dance floor last night. Fuck, he probably saw Ben kissing me.
Did I just sign his own brother's death wish?
Thank fuck I'm not wearing any makeup so I can splash cold water on my face to try and compose myself.
The conversation seems to have gone back to fun and games when I return, but I've lost my appetite.
"Are you on a diet again?" Mom scolds me.
I roll my eyes at her. "No, I'm not."
It's been an ongoing argument in my house ever since I hit my teens and I started counting my calories. My father has told her multiple times that it's part of dancing, but she keeps on worrying that I will develop an eating disorder.
"You eat around two thousand calories, right?" Miguel pipes out, again gaining everyone's attention.
I can feel my face burning again. He's making it so obvious that there is something going on between us, and I already told my aunt there's not.
"Around two-thousand-four-hundred." I smile awkwardly.
And now everyone is looking at me questioningly. The earth should swallow me whole.
"I eat around five-thousand." He smiles again, and it feels like the sun peeking through the clouds. "I'd probably die on your diet."
Then Alonso starts questioning him about his diet, my dad chirping in on protein intake, and I exhale in relief. All the attention is off me, but then I feel burning eyes on me.
Both aunt Farrah and Amelia are looking at me like I'm a convict.
"What?" I mouth at them and rather help myself to more steamed dumplings to keep my hands busy.
I'm so relieved when Miguel says he has to leave not long after lunch, and the air feels a lot less charged after he leaves.
I help my aunt and Amelia with bathing the girls, and they miraculously don't ask me anything about Miguel.
I leave soon after, citing that I have to get into bed early.
When I'm almost at my place, I hear the familiar roar of a powerful motorcycle's engine, and when I stop at a red traffic light, he pulls up next to me. He revs his engine to get my attention and this man should be illegal for all women.
He's a vision on that bike dressed in all black, a leather jacket over his Henley. His head is turned towards me, and I can just imagine those eyes looking at me.
My heart gallops in my chest when the light turns green and I speed away until I reach my apartment. Miguel either has a remote to my garage or he's just fucking fast because he parks his bike next to mine.
I'm out of my car before he has a chance to get off, and I rush to the elevator, but he has lighting speed and he catches me against the wall before I can even press the button to get to my floor.
His front covers my back, and I feel him taking off his helmet and then he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
No more hiding.
"I've been waiting to do this all day." He growls. "But you've been a naughty girl, and I haven't decided how I'm going to punish you yet."