“No,” Marko whines.
I struggle to resist. Damn kids with their tiny frowns and sad eyes. How can anyone ever say no to them?
“Do you mind?” I look over at Santiago.
Please mind. Say this is a bad idea and let’s call it a night.
He shakes his head.
Bastard.
I grumble to myself as I tug at the laces of my sneakers and rip them off. Climbing into Santiago’s bed is nothing short of an experience. The mattress is made of a foam voodoo, and I sigh as my body sinks into the cushion.
Santiago is going to have to hire a crane to lift me out because I’m never leaving this bed.
Marko snuggles into my side and places his head on my chest. “Mommy holded me like this.” He plucks my hand and places it on his back. “Tio. You too.” He does the same patting of the bed that sucked me in.
Santiago stares at me and visibly swallows.
I grin. How do you like it now, traitor?
His hands clench in front of him, forming two tight balls.
“Tio,” Marko speaks louder, his voice croaking.
Santiago drops his head, letting out the longest breath.
“It’s fine. This bed is big enough to fit a whole family,” I offer, hoping to ease his discomfort.
He climbs onto the bed and turns his back toward us. Distinct clicking sounds break the silence as he works to remove the straps of his iWalk. He places his sock covering on the nightstand with a shaky hand.
My heart aches at his distress. I want to say something to make him feel better, but I’m not sure how he will react.
Santiago’s muscles strain as he gets situated under the covers. I keep my eyes focused on his face to offer him some privacy, but not enough that he thinks I’m turned off by him. I refuse to go down that path again because I won’t survive kissing him again. The only one we had is forever ingrained in my memory, with my lips tingling at the idea.
Marko grabs my hand and links it with Santiago’s. An electric feeling spreads across my skin from the contact. Santiago flexes his hand before tightening his grip on mine. Does he feel the same kind of connection between us? How can he not? It’s like sparks shooting off our skin whenever we touch.
“All better. Like Mommy and Daddy when I is scared.” Marko pats our united hands.
I crack a smile at Marko trying to recreate what makes him comfortable.
It doesn’t take long for Marko to fall asleep on me. He eventually lets out soft snores as he breathes in and out.
“Thank you for coming to save the day. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Santiago’s eyes remain focused on the ceiling.
“You’re welcome.”
It feels like ten minutes before he says anything again. “You could’ve said no.”
“I know I might have some cons, but I’m not exactly evil.”
“Just lethal.” A faint smile crosses his lips.
I let out a low laugh.
Santiago turns his head toward mine. “I’m sorry I lied to get out of going on the boat with you.”
My eyes find his. A spectrum of feelings pours out of him from one single look. Pain. Sadness. Regret. It’s the same look I recognize in myself throughout the years. Seeing it on someone else hits me in a different way, forcing me to empathize with him.
I shelve the desire to say something snappy back at him about liars always apologizing. Instead, I let out a heavy sigh. Marko doesn’t flinch when my chest moves.
“I regret lying to you,” he whispers. “In the end, it was all for nothing. I let my own insecurity rule my behavior, and it didn’t even matter. I upset you by wanting to prevent you from seeing exactly what I showed you tonight. Except this version is way worse.”
“Why?” One word, a bunch of different questions that need an answer. I attempt to pull my hand out from his grasp, no longer needing to pretend for Marko’s sake.
Santiago holds on. “I was nervous for you to see me in nothing but a swimsuit and my leg.” He pauses. “No one sees me that way except my family. When I invited you to go swimming, I didn’t realize my mistake. Everything felt so…”
Natural. I want to fill in the word for him, but I stop myself. My heart cracks for this man who struggles to come to terms with himself. Low self-esteem is a tough battle. His confession hits me differently because he looks like an Adonis in every sense of the word. Yet again, Santiago reveals another layer of himself I can’t help appreciating.
How can someone who looks so perfect be so flawed?
“I don’t care about something like a prosthetic leg, but you refuse to accept it. Your injury doesn’t define you. Your decisions do.” I shut my eyes, wanting to escape his gaze. Yet everything about our proximity has my body aware of him in ways I wish weren’t possible.