Two
1519 Words
EUNICE
I completely lost interest in the mountain of pancit and lumpia I’d piled onto my plate like I was preparing for the apocalypse.
The food sat untouched on my desk, slowly turning cold while my mind replayed that moment on the stairs for what felt like the hundredth time.
His smile.
That low, smooth voice.
The way his dark eyes had held mine just a second longer than necessary before Paulo interrupted us.
Was he… flirting with me?
No.
Absolutely not.
For nearly five years, I’d convinced myself that I was nothing more than Paulo’s annoying little sister to Denver. That was the rule. The boundary. The law of the universe I had practically tattooed onto my brain.
Denver had always treated me like the quiet little sister who happened to follow Paulo around. He teased me, ruffled my hair whenever he passed, and occasionally flashed me that easy grin.
Safe.
Brotherly.
Completely off-limits.
But what if something had changed?
What if he had finally seen through me?
What if he somehow knew that I’d been hopelessly, painfully, ridiculously in love with him since I was a teenager?
Calling it a crush felt almost insulting.
It wasn’t some innocent little teenage crush.
It was a full-blown, years-long obsession.
It had started the first day he came to our house for a school project with Paulo.
One look at him leaning against our front door, laughing at something my brother said while casually tossing a basketball from one hand to the other…
And I was done.
Completely, hopelessly done.
Back then, I used to hide around corners just to watch him leave. I’d linger at the top of the stairs, stealing glances whenever I thought he wasn’t looking.
I counted down the days until he might come over again.
And whenever the doorbell rang, my heart would practically punch through my chest.
My old diaries were undeniable evidence of just how pathetic I’d been.
Page after page filled with his name surrounded by crooked hearts and embarrassing little observations.
The blue shirt he wore today.
The way his laugh made my stomach flutter.
The way he smelled like sandalwood and mint when he walked past me.
I’d only started trying to bury those feelings once I entered college and the rumors about Denver became impossible to ignore.
Denver the heartbreaker.
Denver the guy who could charm a girl all night and disappear before sunrise.
Denver the walking red flag with a devastating smile that somehow made girls fall for him anyway.
He was still sweet to me.
Still warm.
Still the same Denver around Paulo and my family.
But with other women?
Commitment clearly wasn’t in his vocabulary.
So I buried my feelings.
Deep.
Very, very deep.
And yet here I was, sitting on the edge of my bed with my pulse racing like I’d just run a marathon because he’d looked at me for a few seconds too long and asked me twice to come downstairs.
I flopped backward onto my mattress and pressed a cold palm against my chest.
“Get it together, Eunice.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“He was just being nice.”
Or worse…
“He was teasing you because he knows you blush.”
I had almost convinced myself to forget the whole thing and return to my now-cold food when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Beatrice: Hey cuz, you sure you’re skipping the rest of the night?
Me: Yeah. I’m good up here.
Beatrice: Too bad! Denver suggested we all go to his family’s place and use the pool. We’re packing up now!
My thumbs stopped above the screen.
Wait.
They were going to Denver’s house.
To swim.
With him.
And I was seriously going to sit alone in my room while my cousins laughed, flirted, and possibly got all over him in the pool?
Absolutely not.
I shot off the bed.
I grabbed my black swimsuit from the drawer, shoved it into a tote bag, and yanked open my bedroom door—
Only to nearly crash straight into Paulo.
He had a beach towel hanging over one shoulder and his motorcycle keys jingling in his hand.
“Paulo! Wait. You guys are leaving already?”
“Yeah. We’re heading to Denver’s place.” He adjusted the towel. “Pool’s open. You coming or what?”
“How many people are going?”
“Beatrice and the girls. A couple of guys from the college team, too. Decide fast. We’re rolling out.”
I glanced over the banister.
Downstairs, my cousins were already gathered near the front door, laughing and carrying bags.
“Paulo! Hurry up! Denver’s waiting outside!” someone shouted.
Paulo checked his phone before looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Clock’s ticking, Eunice. You coming, or are you getting left behind?”
I tightened my grip on my tote bag.
There was no way I was getting left behind.
“I’m coming.”
────────
The night air was warm when we stepped onto the driveway.
And the second I walked beneath the porch lights, Denver looked up.
His eyes immediately found mine.
Then they lit up.
“Wow.”
His voice dropped into something warm and almost teasing.
A slow smile spread across his face as he stepped away from his motorcycle.
“Glad you changed your mind.”
My entire body froze.
I gripped my canvas tote so tightly my knuckles turned white.
“Yeah…” I mumbled, staring at the driveway instead of him. “Didn’t want to miss it.”
Smooth, Eunice.
Very smooth.
Paulo was already straddling his motorcycle with two of our cousins squeezed behind him.
“Denver! Ride with Eunice!” he shouted. “I’ve got these two clowns taking up my back seat.”
Denver raised an eyebrow.
His gaze shifted toward me.
“Since when do you ride a bike, shorty?”
Heat immediately rushed into my cheeks.
“Since last month. Paulo gave me his old vintage scooter so I could commute to campus. He taught me.”
Denver glanced toward the sea-foam green scooter parked near the garage.
Then his eyes returned to me.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“You sure you can handle me on the back?” he teased. “I’m not exactly small.”
Something about the way he said it sent a nervous jolt through me.
“Y-yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I can handle it.”
“Hey! You two, move your asses!” Paulo yelled, revving his engine. “We’re losing moonlight!”
Denver laughed.
That deep, rough sound sent another ridiculous flutter through my stomach.
Then he swung his long leg over the back of my scooter and settled onto the narrow seat behind me.
The scooter dipped slightly beneath his weight.
I swallowed.
This was a mistake.
A very, very big mistake.
Before I could even process how close we suddenly were, his hands gently covered mine, guiding them back onto the handlebars.
“Relax,” he murmured.
His broad chest settled behind me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through my shirt.
His arms framed my sides, and the scent of his cologne immediately surrounded me.
Sandalwood.
Clean skin.
Something distinctly Denver.
I tightened my grip on the handlebars.
This was going to be the longest fifteen-minute ride of my life.
“You good back there?” he murmured near my ear.
His warm breath brushed my skin, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“Mmm-hmm.”
The tiny sound that escaped me was embarrassingly high-pitched.
I mentally cringed.
Denver chuckled.
Then his arms settled around my waist, steadying us.
“This okay?”
His voice was quieter now.
I nodded quickly.
“It’s… fine.”
Nothing about this was fine.
Not even remotely.
Desperate to escape the awkward silence, I twisted the throttle.
A little too hard.
The scooter lurched forward.
“Whoa!”
Denver’s arms immediately tightened around me, keeping us balanced.
“Easy.”
I gasped.
“Sorry!”
His laughter rumbled behind me.
“Relax, baby. I trust you.”
Baby.
My heart nearly stopped.
I forced myself to focus on the road.
Somehow, I managed to follow Paulo’s motorcycle down the street.
But for the entire fifteen-minute ride, I was painfully aware of Denver behind me.
Every bump brought his arms a little closer.
Every turn made us shift together.
Every time he leaned forward to speak, his voice rumbled close to my ear.
He made random sarcastic comments about Paulo’s terrible driving, occasionally laughed at something happening ahead of us, and somehow managed to act completely relaxed.
Meanwhile, I was fighting for my life.
By the time the tall iron gates of his family’s estate came into view, I was practically trembling.
My heart was pounding.
My hands were sweating.
And my thoughts were completely consumed by the man sitting behind me.
I had spent five years convincing myself that Denver would never see me as anything more than Paulo’s little sister.
But tonight?
For the first time…
I wasn’t so sure anymore.
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