We had napped after our showers, Victor on the sofa and me on the bed, a long lazy siesta that had us waking up around seven and the island shifted, ready for the night. At first, I was going to manhandle my hair, but I decided to allow do what it wanted if we were going dancing the night air would ruin whatever I attempted to do.

I slipped on a red dress and strappy heels, dabbing lipstick and perfume. I looked way better than before, I looked pretty. At least I thought so. I should tell Victor tonight and maybe, maybe if he felt the same this would be the most amazing vacation of my life.

He exited the bathroom with a pair of pressed slacks and a perfectly fitted white guayabera, he looked truly old school Caribbean and he had a slight tan from earlier. I had to look away, he was so beautiful, and he didn't even know it.

"You look nice," he said. "Beautiful."

I fought the urge to throw myself in his arms, so I settled for a tight smile.

"I'm hungry." Smooth.

He laughed and nodded. "Yeah, how about some churrasco? Mofongo?"

Both bad ideas, both were bathed in garlic. Then again, I could use that as a lovely excuse to not tell him anything.

"Mofongo, stuffed with shrimp!"

His brows furrowed and he nodded. "Oh yeah, c'mon Becky-girl!"

He parked the jeep in front of a small restaurant by the sea called El Callejon, it meant The Alleyway, music was blasting and there was an outside seating area. We saw couples dancing bachata and I was relieved because I could dance bachata quite well, Yara had taught me. Still, I was petrified of it, mostly because it was sex in the form of a dance.

We were shown to a table by an old man, he smiled at us and rattled off the specials which included mofongo. We ordered two big piña coladas and I sipped at the sugary concoction while we watched couples dance to Elvis Crespo. The synchronized movements almost hypnotic, the hops, the dips, and turns.

"Perdon, estan juntos?" A young man was standing by us and both Victor and I turned to him. He was looking from Victor to me, his hand slightly held out to me.

"No," I answered, furiously blushing. I watched as Victor glanced at me then back at the guy with his jaw set tight. It wasn't a lie. We weren't together, together, not like that. I had the right to go for a dance, I didn't want to, but I could.

"Actually, let's dance," Victor suddenly stood, and I almost dropped my piña colada. He held out a hand to me and I took it, letting him pull me to the small intimate dancefloor on wooden boards. Then I was flush against his chest, covered with his scent as we blended with the small crowd.

"I didn't like that guy," he said.

He looked down at me and I almost saw something, but I didn't dare hope anything. I simply held on to his hand as he turned me. The music was fast and catchy and before I knew it I was actually having fun. He turned me expertly and I stopped thinking of what my feet needed to do and simply danced. He was smiling at me and my heartfelt it would burst, pressed against him as it was, we were a couple. To the world, we were a couple.

"You dance merengue way better," he caught me from a turn.

"I know, it's easier," I said.

We were slightly sweating by the time we made it back to our table and our mofongo was waiting for us. It was a mountain of fried plantains pounded on a mortar with fried pork skin, garlic and salt. Poured over the ball of plantain was shrimp in a savory red creole sauce. It was amazing.

I felt the repercussions of alcohol, delicious food, good music, and the company of Victor. I stared at him with heart eyes when he suddenly realized it. They had just taken our plates and we were sipping on mojitos, watching the couples dance a slow bachata.

"Becka," he took a deep breath. I swear I would have told him then and there I loved him but our waiter came with a friendly smile and asked if we wanted dessert.

"No, thank you," I said, grimacing against the fact that I had missed my opportunity. He left us alone and we watched the couples dance again.

Then the same guy who asked me to dance before stood next to me. "If he's not going to dance with you, belleza, I'll dance with you," he said in Spanish.

The guy grabbed my hand and yanked me up, I stumbled and I glanced back at Victor, his face was open and determined. Even as I tugged my hand out of the man's grip, I heard Victor distinctly say under his breath.

"Fuck it all."

He marched to us, pushing people out of the way, and grabbed me from the guy. Once I was flush against his chest, he wrapped his arms around me, and he planted a kiss on my mouth.

I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating but the heat of Victor against me was real and relentless. He kissed me with each inch of him, his cells latching to mine in a magnetic union. A cacophony of feelings ran through me, like when the Beast kissed Belle and fireworks erupted, lit the sky, and announced to the world that here was a couple in love. That's what it felt like, heated explosions rushing through my skin, igniting all of the cells of my dermatitis and making them burst in a loud chaotic cheer.

When he pulled back, we stared at one another, breathing hard, and uncertain of what to do next. Victor's mouth was red from my lipstick and his eyes were wide and so dark they had lost all their brown color. I could count the lashes on his lids.

"Coño," the guy walked away, shaking his head.

Victor pulled me closer, pressing his lips against my temple as we slowly swayed to Usted. My heart beating frantically, my mouth still tasting of him. Did he love me? Had he simply done it to chase the guy away? I should confess. I should say everything. Finally, I looked up at him, and he seemed uncertain or perhaps afraid, I found myself unable to distinguish his thoughts when before it had been so easy.

"Why did you do that?" I whispered.

He licked his lips and his hands softly rubbed at my back.

"Victor, why did you do that?"

He let out a breath. "I wanted to see if it was the same as I remembered."

My fingers curled into his arms and his hand slid up my back, cupping my neck. Then he pulled me again and this time kissed me slow and languorously. I arched up, moaning into his mouth. I was on my tiptoes, attempting to reach all of him as warmth filled me. His tongue pushed past my lips and the closeness of it all had me feeling his breath against my nose. It was too intimate, more than anything before in my life. We were in the eye of a Hurricane and I was tempted to allow the winds to lose me and never be found.

When he pulled back, he smiled slightly.

"Yup, same as I remembered," his voice was hoarse but held a tint of amusement.

My entire stomach had frozen in place as I braced myself for the worst possible outcome. "Do you like me?"

His smile widened and he shook his head as if I had said something silly. "I've always liked you."

I studied him, the soft eyebrows, the little lines lining his forehead. "I don't understand."

He turned us in place and shrugged. "I've always watched you, even when you hated me."

I opened my mouth to protest that I didn't hate him, but I had hated him. Violently. Passionately. Intimately.

Oh.

"But... you liked Rosalind; you were always staring at her." My words were simply pouring out for no reason.

He suddenly laughed, throwing his head back and swaying us to the soft music. His eyes captured once more that caramel brown tone when he looked at me once more.

"Rosalind was always with you," he paused and bit his lip. "I wasn't staring at Rosalind."

My thoughts sizzled as they attempted to piece together High School and how the Patty Girls had joked about Victor because he had a thing for Rosalind, he always stared at her non-stop. But... he hadn't been staring at Rosalind. I felt dizzy and he tightened his arms around me.

He hadn't been staring at Rosalind.

He had noticed I liked Clem because... he had been staring at me.

He had found me at the party when Clem was with the private dancer. Because he had been looking for me.

He had known I wanted to dance with Clem in Prom, so he'd pretended to be drunk to push the stupid Clem to step up because of me.

He had teased me, even taking my anger and hate to get my attention.

He had caught me from falling after Prom because he was checking up on me.

He had always asked if I was still hung up on Clem because he liked me.

He'd beaten Alvin up for me.

He respected my wish to be friends even when I had kissed him and hurt him with my rejection.

I let out a gasp and grasped his face and my emotions erupted out of me as if I had been holding them since that day I packed my wet cardboard box.

Suddenly, I lived. I was alive.

My fingers caressed his face and I tightened my hold on him. "I should've been chasing you! All these years... you're the only one that matters. You're the only one worth catching."

His brown eyes brightened and then I pulled him down to me and devoured his mouth, pouring into it all I was feeling, all I had been feeling. He responded instantly, crushing me in his arms, my feet nearly lifting from the ground.

Inexplicably, I recalled how much I hated Emma, and in an instant, I went from hating that book to it being my favorite book of all time! Victor had been here all along, he had been waiting, waiting for me to notice him.

When we came up for air he chuckled into my hair. I pressed my face into his shoulder, hardly believing what was happening. I was suddenly torn with happiness and panic. Chicago.

"Oh god. I leave in two months, Victor."

He pulled my face up, making me look at him. "I guess I'm going to need to fly to Chicago quite often."

He had thought about this, I realized.

"B-but you said you didn't do long distance, it ruined you and Helene," I said.

He smiled slightly and pecked at my lips. "I didn't love Helene."

I blinked rather stupidly. "You love me?"

He twirled me as the music changed and a merengue began playing. He caught me back with a mischievous smile. "As if you don't, you've been giving me heart eyes for weeks."

He laughed at what must have been my angry face when I realized all these weeks of agony, he had sat there knowing full well that I had realized my feelings. This confident, self-assured, asshole!

"You knew!" I smacked his chest.

"I've been watching you for far longer than you've watched me, do not underestimate my ability to read Becka-braille."

I gasped.

"I've been giving you time to say something." He pecked my nose even as I pushed against him.

"Let go of me!"

"But you chickened out," he said. "And if I had to see you with one more guy –"

He shook his head, his eyes slightly hurt.

I let out a breath. "There is no wedding at the hotel."

"Not even a little one," he smiled.

"You asked for one bed," I said.

"Honeymoon Suite."

"You planned this all along!"

"I did."

I was seething. "You remembered you told me about Stray on your birthday."

"Clearly." He twirled me and caught me even as I weakly pushed against him.

"You are an asshole," I growled.

"At times." He was smirking now. A shit-eating smirk. "But I'm completely in love with you Becky-girl. You're my very best friend and I'd be a pile of shit without you."

"You – you –"

He kissed me, taking all bits of air from my lungs. When he pulled back his eyes were the color of onyx, his throat bobbled, and I felt him stir against my stomach.

"I've been waiting for you for a very long time. Now, why don't we go back to the room so you can show me how much you hate me?"

I always knew he was an asshole.

=D

Recommended Year 2000 Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. If You're Gone - Matchbox Twenty

2. Absolutely (Story of a Girl) - Nine Days

3. Hanging by a Moment - LifeHouse

4. Yellow - Coldplay

5. Breathe - Faith Hill

6. Smooth - Carlos Santana

7. Country Grammar - Nelly

8. Butterfly - Crazy Town

9. Be with You - Enrique Iglesias

10. It's My Life - Bon Jovi

11. Reloj - Luis Miguel

12. You Sang To Me - Marc Anthony

13. Luna Llena - Elvis Crespo

14. Like Lovers Do - Heather Nova