Chapter 37

The band returned as scheduled, but this time they started their set by entertaining requests from the patrons. The first song was a popular one from the eighties they were both familiar with, so they ended up singing to the tune of Buttercup in between bites of nachos. The next one, ‘Crazy for You’, hit quite close to home (for Angelo, at least). His heart twisted when he saw Louisa singing along with gusto, knowing she was thinking of Gabriel. A fit of violent jealousy seized him and his wicked thoughts must’ve shown on his face because Louisa was taken aback when she turned to him.

“My! Don’t we look serious tonight! Getting tired of my company?” Louisa said while dipping a piece of tortilla into the salsa.

Angelo’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “Of course not,” he answered quickly.

“So, what were you thinking? You looked so… so… forlorn!”

“Forlorn?” Angelo said, choking on his beer. “What a depressing word to use, Louie! I don’t think I’ve ever been told that I look ‘forlorn’”

“Well, you did. Just now. And I hope it’s not because you’re getting bored with me.”

The beer bottle paused midway to his lips. “I’ll never get bored with you, Louie,” he answered in all seriousness, his eyes boring into hers.

Louisa fidgeted in her seat, understanding the subtle innuendo of his statement. After a beat, she turned back to the band. “I wish they would do more dance songs. It’s getting a bit depressing,” she said.

He started to suggest that they leave but stopped short when he heard the next song. He muttered a few curses, recognizing it immediately. It was the song Gabriel had sung to Louisa on the night of their engagement party, and if there was anything that could aggravate Louisa’s mood right now, this would be it. He expected Louisa to jump to her feet and bolt out of the place, yet she didn’t. She was, to his amazement, singing along.

He moved closer to see if she was okay and his heart twisted anew at the sight of her tears. He wanted to envelop her in his arms, to tell her she need not cry anymore. That he was here, always here for her.

But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to intrude in this private moment. She needed to get over the hurt and her ability to face it head-on like this placed her a notch higher in his esteem. She really was an exceptional woman. He would die before he would give up on her. Not until she had signed her name on a piece of paper officially binding her to Gabriel would he even consider defeat. Still, even that would not stop him from loving her.

The song ended with Louisa casually wiping her cheeks. “Sorry about that. No more tears tonight, I promise.” She smiled a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I think it’s time that we left, Louie,” he said, gently squeezing her hand.

“No. I think it’s time for Tequila,” Louisa replied, her lips twisting into an impish grin.

“Oh, no it’s not! We’re getting back to the hotel and we’re going to watch some boring TV show while munching on a big bag of chips,” he said, waving his hand at the waiter. Before Angelo could ask for their bill, Louisa chimed in cheerfully.

“A bottle of Jose Cuervo, please. And bring lots of lemon and salt,” she said, smiling up at the waiter.

“Um, any–anything e–e–else, Ma’am?” the waiter stammered.

“That will be all for now, thanks, uhm… Marky,” she said, squinting at the waiter’s nameplate.

Marky nodded vigorously and beamed at her before dashing to the bar. He was back in a flash with a bottle of Cuervo, a tall salt dispenser, and a large bowl of lemons. Louisa rewarded his promptness with another devastating smile. The waiter looked like he had just won the lottery.

Angelo scowled at Louisa; he didn’t like where this was going. When she dazzled him with a smile, though, he melted. Noticing her meaningful look at the tequila bottle, Angelo poured two shots and placed one in front of her. Louisa hardly noticed, her attention completely stolen by Billy Joel’s ‘It’s Just a Fantasy’.

“They’re back to fast songs. Thank God!” she shouted over the din. Grabbing the salt dispenser, she sprinkled salt on her right hand and grabbed the shot of tequila with the other. She licked the salt, downed her tequila in one gulp, then grabbed a slice of lemon and sucked on it with passion. She then turned around, jumped to her feet, and danced to the heart-thumping rhythm of the song. Midway through it, she repeated the same routine with the tequila.

By then, Angelo’s breathing had turned erratic. He didn’t know why he found what Louisa just did highly erotic and suggestive. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and downed his shot (without the salt and lemon). Taking two more shots in quick succession brought a semblance of normalcy to his breathing, but not to his wayward thoughts.

Now, he found himself captivated by Louisa’s gyrating body in front of him. The familiar stiffening in the nether regions of his body warned him that he was walking on dangerous ground. He would have to take an ice-cold shower once they got back to the hotel. Unfortunately, he remembered that their bathroom had a clear, see-through glass wall, which would’ve worked had they been lovers, but since they were not—

Por dios, por santo! Why am I subjecting myself to this torture!

When the music stopped, amidst the grumbling hoots of the patrons, Louisa sat back down, her thin shirt clinging to her sweating, heaving chest. Angelo swallowed hard as more unseemly, highly carnal thoughts flashed inside his brain. He mentally berated himself for ogling her, yet he couldn’t stop. She looked even more beautiful now with her hair flowing wildly down her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed a delicious pink, while her eyes glowed with an inner light. And her lips! God, those cherry-red lips were begging to be kissed. Angelo cursed inside and grabbed a bottle of beer. He probably should stick to beer from now on; the tequila was wreaking havoc to his senses.

As the night went by, he watched (agonizingly) as Louisa downed most of the Tequila. Whenever Louisa was distracted, he would slyly toss his shots into the unsuspecting potted palm near their table (the poor thing would probably be throwing up in the morning). He tried to stop her more than once (not only for her sake but mostly for his–he feared that he was now permanently damaged from the waist-down) but she became even more stubborn and belligerent with his every protest. In between gulps, she rattled on about inane things, a sure sign she was not herself tonight and fast on the way to getting drunk. Louisa never rattled on, especially about inane things.

By the time they (or rather Louisa) had demolished about three-quarters of the potent Mexican liquor, Louisa was already half-way around the world, sprawled face-down on the wooden table. She would come up occasionally, giggling and talking in Spanish, but mostly she was oblivious to everything around her. Angelo wanted to kick himself for letting her get to this stage of drunkenness. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her, probably because he understood her. She needed to forget the pain, if only for this one night.

Thankfully, Marky, their waiter, was intuitive enough to bring them two steaming cups of black coffee without being asked (an act Angelo would dutifully reward with a very generous tip). He, after several attempts, was able to pour a few mouthfuls down Louisa’s throat. It did not sober her up by much, but it helped get her up on her feet at least. After a few minutes’ drive, he marched a snoring Louisa up the steps of the hotel. It made him fully appreciate the location of their room. Carrying her up a long flight of stairs would’ve been torture for him.

Once inside their suite, Angelo carefully lowered Louisa onto the bed. He took one of the face towels in the bathroom, soaked it in cold water, splashed some on his face (he needed a bit of sobering up, too), and knelt beside the bed, gently rubbing the wet towel on Louisa’s cheeks.

Angelo heard the soft moans Louisa was making and it stirred him in ways he couldn’t ignore. He muttered a curse, trying desperately to distract himself from his evil thoughts by removing Louisa’s shoes. She was wearing one of those fashionable high-cut boots with hidden wedge heels and it amused him. Louisa was apparently still insecure about her height. He chuckled softly, remembering how he used to tease her about it when they were younger. It never failed to get a rise from her, and he often did it just to see her adorable cheeks turn red in outrage.

Angelo froze. Had he been infatuated with her even then? Was it why it was so easy to fall in love with her–because the seeds were already growing inside his heart? Angelo sighed and went back to his task. It didn’t matter how it began. He’s head over heels in love with her now, no doubt about it. After having both feet freed from her boots, he slowly lifted her legs to the bed. He was stepping away when she bolted upright with a cry, her hands clawing at empty air. Angelo quickly sat on the bed and grabbed her hands.

“It’s okay, Louie. I’m here,” he said, holding her hands to his face. She sighed and slumped against his shoulder. He gently lowered her back to the bed and smoothed the hair on her forehead.

Looking down at her sleeping form, his heart swelled with something he’d never quite experienced before. And before he could stop himself, he was kissing her tenderly on the lips. She smelled of tequila and coffee. Normally, he would’ve been repelled by such a combination. But this time, he was aroused and titillated instead. A little voice at the back of his head was telling him what he was doing was wrong. Unfortunately, his body was deaf to its counsel.

It’s just one kiss, he reasoned. Moving closer, he inhaled the intoxicating scent of her breath. He lowered his mouth to hers again. This time, he let his tongue move against her lips. He realized too late that it would be his undoing. Because the moment he tasted her, his whole body went into overdrive – each part clamoring for more. That small voice was nagging him again, but the drumming inside his chest was too loud for him to really hear it. And then, something he’d only dreamed of happened.

Louisa’s lips parted, welcoming him. Her arms snaked up his neck, pulling him even closer. He thought he was just imagining it, that the booze was taking over, and was playing tricks on his mind. But when her tongue slid against his lips, pushing insistently, pleading with him to let her in, something exploded inside him, all logic and reason departing with it. He moved in deeper, his tongue plunging mercilessly inside her delicious mouth, searching, claiming, branding. Blood rushed hot and searing through his whole body when Louisa responded with the same enthusiasm. Her lips were equally demanding and insatiable, sucking the very breath out of him. And he retaliated with even more vigor. He’d waited for this for so long. He’d dreamed of it, yet, in all his dreams, nothing compared to reality.

Angelo was no virgin; he’d been with a number of women before. But what he was feeling at the moment was much more electrifying than his first time. His desire for this woman went beyond the physical. It transcended corporeal need. He craved her, he needed to possess her, yet he knew he would never really have her. She belonged to someone else.

The thought stabbed at his core, tempering his passion. He started to move away, but Louisa held on to him more desperately. That simple action ignited his ardor once more and thoughts of Louisa belonging to another were forgotten. He was burning for her, making him take more liberties in spite of himself. His hands moved of their own accord, caressing, squeezing, exploring. His lips left hers and traveled slowly down her neck, licking, nibbling, sampling her sweetness.

He traced the soft column of her neck with his tongue, stopping only at the top of her breasts. He slid his hand up her tank top and pushed up her bra, freeing her breasts from their confinement. His hand tentatively moved against her ribs, crawling up, until it found the tiny knob that was now puckering under his palm. He kissed her again, his tongue plunging deep inside her mouth while his fingers drew circles around the sensitive part on her chest and he was rewarded by a soft mewling sound from Louisa. Had she been just one of his conquests he would now be grinning in triumph because that sound meant she was now his for the taking. But this was Louisa, his beloved, the woman he wanted to share his past, his present, and his future with. And somehow, what he was doing was affecting him more than it was affecting her. His whole body trembled with need; like he was a young initiate out for his first bloodletting. He knew he would not be able to stop until he’d made her completely his.

Would she ever be truly his, though? If he saw what he’d started to its inevitable conclusion, would she truly be one with him? Was she even truly aware of what was happening between them? Or was it the liquor that was responding to his kisses? When she’d finally sobered up, would she love him or hate him? Would there be tears of regret? Would there be words screamed in anger?

If he took her now, Gabriel would surely give her up. His pride would never let him take the leavings of his brother. Angelo, however, would have her any which way he could. He was desperately in love with her. Even if something had already transpired between her and Gabriel, it would matter not to him, as long as she chose him.

Would she choose him, though, if he took advantage of her now when she was vulnerable? Shame would make her dissolve her engagement to Gabriel. Shame would compel her to stay with him. She would be his because of her shame, nothing more. He didn’t want that. He couldn’t have her this way. He must not force her to choose him.

And so, Angelo Montoya, renowned playboy, heartthrob, and heartbreaker, did the most honorable and the most painful thing he’d ever done.

He removed himself from Louisa's embrace and fixed her clothes. Tucking the comforter around her Angelo fled the room, his demons chasing after him.