Page 184 of Raspados & Regret

Elías steals a bite from my fork.

I let him, and he watches me notice and smiles like he got away with something.

I love him.

By the time we finally make it to bed, the apartment is quiet again. The fan is on the highest setting in the corner, and the window’s cracked open, letting in the warm night air and the distant sound of traffic.

Elías crawls in first, now wearing one of my shirts because he knows exactly what that does to me. The yellow shorts are lying in a tragic heap near the bedroom door.

I point at them. “Trash.”

He gasps like I slapped him. “Those shorts are part of our love story.”

“They’re a fucking problem, nene.”

“They got me proposed to.”

“They almost got you fucked in public.” I stare at him.

All he does is smile.

I climb into bed beside him and pull him into me before he can keep talking. Elías comes easy, soft, and warm from the shower, smelling like our soap and his skin. His leg hooks over mine, and his hand settles on my chest, right over my heart, like he’s checking that I’m still here.

For a while, neither of us says anything, but because he’s always going to need some kind of reassurance, Elías lifts his head.

“You meant it?”

I look down at him, and he tries to make his face casual.

“The marriage thing?” I ask.

His fingers curl against my chest. “And the kid thing.”

I take a breath. “Yeah,” I say. “I meant it.”

His eyes search mine.

“I know it’s not simple,” I sigh. “I know it’s not like you can just…” I wave one hand, then stop because I sound stupid. “I know you’re not having my baby.”

His mouth twitches. “Glad we got that out of the way, because as much as I’d want to have your baby… my uterus is currently unavailable.”

“Elías—”

“What? I’m clarifying.”

I pinch his side; that makes him laugh and squirm closer.

“I mean us,” I say. “A kid with us. However that happens. Adoption, surrogacy, whatever we decide. Obviously it’s gonna take time because we have to figure out money, space, and all the real stuff.” My throat tightens. “But someday, yeah. I want that with you.”

His face goes quiet. “And marriage?” he asks.

I touch his cheek.

“Especially marriage. Even if the idea scares the shit outta me.”

His breath catches, and I choose to say it right. Not against the door and not while inside him.

Here.