Page 80 of When We Feel


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I flick my eyes at him.

“It was good,” he says.

Great conversation.

Not once have I caught him eyeing me. He looks at the lit floor numbers until we reach the lobby.

I saunter out, expecting to see Francisco and Alejandro waiting for us.

Kai shows me to the exit.

“Where are we going?” I ask, circumspect.

“The restaurant, and then… I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“Only us?”

He looks at me while we’re waiting for our ride.

“I mean the four of us,” I clarify.

He ponders.

“There are many people where we’re going. But yes, only the four of us.”

The breeze sweeps my chest and neckline. I grip the fabric with one hand to keep it in place. I have this weird sensation in the pit of my stomach again, probably from nerves.

The parking valet brings out his red Ferrari.

Kai invites me in, and I climb into the front seat, shaking inside.

He slides behind the wheel while I’m seconds away from excusing myself and going back to my room.

But I’m no quitter. I don’t want to look like I can’t breathe in his presence. Which happens to be true.

I get even more nervous as the moments pass. And I think it’s natural to feel that way. So many things have happened since last night.

Since spending time with Francisco, getting to know Alejandro, and having Kai in my room this morning.

The car starts rolling, and I bite my words back.

I’m so close to asking him to make a u-turn and deposit me in front of the hotel.

He must know something is wrong, and I think he counts on that. There is no way he and I will share a bed with them tonight. No way.

There is no way we will repeat the experience we have had in New York.

I don’t know which one of us has to get out of this arrangement first.

I won’t do it for sure.

And he probably wouldn’t do it either, out of principle if nothing else, but this is not going to work.

I draw in a scant breath that does nothing for me. I can’t relax.

I can’t speak.

I can’t control my feelings toward him.

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