Page 11 of Cartel Devil

I wait for more, like an invitation for another round or four, but nothing’s forthcoming. Instead, we stare at each other until I take the hint that she’s waiting for me to leave. I’ve never gotten the brush off quite so fast this early in the—I glance at my watch—mid-morning. I climb out of bed and reach for my boxer briefs. I observe her, and it’s clear she’s not unaffected by seeing how hard I got while watching her. This is way more than just morning wood. This is I want to pull her back into bed and fuck her through to tomorrow morning.

“Like what you see, chiquita?”

“You know I did.”

Did?

What the fuck?

“Um, I’m the head of marketing for Serafina’s bakeries now. Would you like a dozen or two of her cupcakes?”

She’s paying me in cupcakes?

Like I’m some third-string gigolo?

“That’s kind of you, but I’m not a big sugary food fan.”

“Oh, well, thanks for an amazing night.”

I stare at her for a protracted moment before nodding. I grab the rest of my clothes and put them back on in silence. I feel completely used. Clearly, last night meant far more to me than it did her. I completely misread it all. I really was just a one-night stand to her while I was already calling her chiquita.

More fool am I.

No man calls a woman chiquita in my family unless she’s the one.

Even in my worst drunken stupors in college, I never made that mistake.

Who knows if I’ll ever find “the one,” but if I do, it feels like the word’s tarnished now.

Wasted on the wrong “the one.”

“Joaquin?”

Is she waiting for my thanks and compliment?

“That was fun. Thanks for—everything.”

We woke just before dawn for another couple rounds, and I discovered how magical her mouth is. She gives the best head I’ve ever gotten. I guess it’ll just be a fond memory now.

I walk toward her, and I don’t know if I should give her a kiss, a hug, or shake her hand. She looks at me like she’s going to choose the handshake.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Goodbye, Tre.”

I head back to my suite to gather my few belongings, shower, and change. I’m still mystified by what just happened. I can’t stop running the entire night over in my mind. Half of me wants to relive the best sex of my entire life, and the other half wants to do an after-action report to figure out what the fuck went wrong with that mission.

I’m still mulling it all over when I arrive at Tío Enrique and Tía Elle’s place in New Jersey. I was on autopilot, and I didn’t even realize I was headed here until I pulled through his gate. I have business to discuss with him, but I think I just want his company. Tío Enrique—Mamá’s oldest brother—was Papá’s best friend and college roommate. There’s something about being around him that’s extra reassuring.

I love my time with Tío Luis—Mamá’s second older brother—and Tío Matías—Alejandro’s father and Mamá’s older sister’s husband. They both have been like bonus dads, but Tío Enrique has always felt the closest to a father since Papá died. Javier always gravitated toward Tío Luis, and Jorge went to Tío Matías.

Me

May I come in? I’m in the driveway.

I shoot off a text to my tío rather than just walk in unannounced. We had an open-door policy among the unmarried men, but now that I’m the only one left single, that rule’s void. It’s best to let the couples know since no one wants to see them mid—well, what I spent most of last night doing.

TE