Through My Window(Hidalgos #1)(52)

There’s no way I can wear that shirt. The skirt is in no better condition, but I just wash the little bits of vomit off in the sink. I can’t leave wearing only Ares’s shirt and nothing underneath. The damp skirt doesn’t help with the cold, and I shiver again, but I manage to brush my teeth with my fingers.

Yoshi. Oh no. The memory of trying to use him last night pops up in fragmented pieces in my mind. I have to apologize to him.

Walking back into the room, I allow myself to look at Ares again. His naked, white torso contrasts with the blue of the sheets. I stare at him, fighting the urge to throw myself on him and kiss every uncovered part of his body and feel his skin.

Focus, Raquel.

With all the caution in the world, I grab the doorknob quietly, but when I try to turn it, it won’t budge. What? I try harder and it won’t open. I check the knob and realize that it doesn’t have a button to lock it, just a hole where a key goes.

It’s locked. Why?

“Are you looking for this?”

His voice makes me jump. I turn, and, to my surprise, he’s sitting on the bed with his hand in the air, holding the keys. I hate that I like his face so much that it makes me shake. He has an amused smile on his face.

“Why is it locked?” I ask.

“There was a party here last night, remember?” There’s a certain hesitancy in his voice. “I didn’t want anyone to come in and bother us.”

I try to swallow but my throat is dry. “You and I . . . I mean . . . did we, you know?”

“Have sex?” He’s always so direct. “You don’t remember anything?”

There’s a sadness in his voice, as if he wants me to remember something. Feeling very embarrassed, I shake my head. “No.”

His expression turns and he looks disappointed for some reason. “Nothing happened, you vomited, I bathed you and put you to sleep.”

I believe him. “Thank you.”

He stands up, and I feel small in front of him again.

“Open the door for me,” I say. Being alone with him in a room, both of us scantily clad, is too much.

He slips the key into the front pocket of his pants. “No.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he walks to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. What the hell? I purse my lips in frustration, waiting for him to come out. What is he trying to accomplish by keeping me locked in here? I hear the shower. Did he go to take a shower? Is he serious?

I’m desperate to get out of here.

Minutes that feel like years pass before he finally comes back out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. He drops his clothes in a pile on the bed. Droplets of water slide down his abdomen and his wet hair is slicked back from his face. I guess he’s not cold.

I clear my throat. “Open the door, Ares.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. “How mature.” He sits on the bed, and his eyes move down from my chest to my legs. I swallow thickly. “I really have to go.”

“You can leave after we talk.”

“Good. What do you want now?”

“You.”

His response surprises me and warms my body, but I try to play it cool. “You really are crazy.”

“Why? Because I tell you what I want? I’ve always been honest with you.”

“Yes, too much, I would say,” I tell him, remembering the time he made it clear that he didn’t want anything serious with me.

“Come here.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Oh no, I’m not going to fall for your game.”

“My game? I thought you were the one playing games.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy kissing someone else?”

The anger in his pretty eyes is evident but, still, I lift my chin. “The truth is, yes, I did. He kisses very well. Besides, he—”

“Shut up.”

A smile of victory fills my lips. The fact that I can affect him makes me feel powerful. He has always maintained that icy, expressionless demeanor with me, but at this moment I can see the emotions on his face, and it’s refreshing. “You asked,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“I admire your attempt to replace me, but we both know it’s me that you want.”

He moves closer to me. The smell of shampoo caresses my nose as I feel his body heat pass over me. Looking into his eyes, my heart beats like crazy, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right. “That’s what you think. Yoshi kisses so good that—”

“Stop talking about him. Don’t play with fire, Raquel.”

“Jealous?”

“Yes.”

His answer shocks me, and I stop breathing. Is Ares Hidalgo admitting he’s jealous? Did I fall into an unknown dimension?

He runs his hand over his face. “I don’t understand you. I dedicate a goal to you, and you go and kiss someone else. What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything. I’m the one who doesn’t understand you.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “We don’t seem to understand each other.” His hand takes my wrists and pulls them up over my head, holding them gently against the door. He uses his free hand to run his finger along the curve of my neck and the edge of my breasts and a shiver of pleasure runs through me.