"Brittany's going to be upset that you left her alone," Cata says in an accusing tone.

We're walking along a low, wooden boardwalk to the seawall. We pass under a palm tree, and a hot breeze wafts in from the Gulf of Mexico. I look up at her. "Huh? Who?"

Cata stops, then whirls around. "Brittany. Your date from Tinder. The one with the pink bikini top. Isn't that her name?"

I laugh and break into Spanish, which I sometimes do if I'm feeling awkward or want to make a sarcastic joke. "Claro que si. Of course. I get it. So that's what this is about. You're jealous."

Cata walks off, her ballet shoes making little padding noises on the wood. I watch her legs in those sexy black stockings, and her hips sway in the short skirt. I catch up with her.

"She wasn't my date."

"Whatever."

We walk in tandem, fast. We're moving away from the bars and condos on the beach and into a dark section, landscaped with big white flowers and illuminated by the full moon.

"I brought Liam with me to the bar. We were alone. I came to find you. He ran into those girls when we walked in. He'd hooked up with both of them a few months ago."

She rolled her eyes and sighs.

"I know, I know. He's a pig," I respond.

"Like you're any different?" she shoots back. "I read what everyone online said about you. Your dating habits. How you pick up girls on Tinder. Tinderellas. Disgusting."

I groan. We're at the end of the boardwalk, where the wood meets the sand. It's a few hundred feet to the seawall. She stops and I can see her shaking, she's so angry.

"Cata, I need to explain."

"What's there to explain? I thought you were different. I thought you weren't like all the other guys. When I saw you again, when I kissed you, I thought maybe you were still decent. Honorable. You used to be kind of guy who wanted a real connection with a girl, not one who taps and swipes at his phone so he can fuck." She practically spits the last word.

I run a hand through my hair, then count to five to dial down the tension between us. "I'll be honest. I've gone out with exactly two girls from Tinder."

She whirls, and shoots fire at me with her eyes. "What we had was amazing, Diego. I don't want us to hook up and cheapen that memory. Well, any more than we already cheapened it with the photos. That's what I'm afraid of – doing more damage. Wait. Two? You went out with two women?"

"Yep. Two. One was six months ago. The other a year ago."

"But those gamers online made it seem like you..."

"I know what they made it seem like. But it's not true. Sawyer and Liam talked shit online; then the fans started thinking I was looking for girls on Tinder every night. And then the Wired article, the reporter made it seem like I was a veritable online Casanova. I'm not proud of it, Cata, but I didn't try to tell them otherwise. It's part of the persona. It's the brand. You know me. I'm shy." I huff out a laugh.

I'm a geek.

She shakes her head, and the moonlight illuminates the bitterness on her face. I step closer to her, ready to take her in my arms. She's standing near the tall hedge, and I reach around her and pluck a big, red flower off the bush.

"Peace?" I say, extending my hand with the flower.

"It's a hibiscus," she murmurs, taking it from me. "Thanks."

"I've only been with two girls since you. In six years. I didn't even sleep with one of the Tinder dates. All we did was go to Pollo Tropical and eat. Then I brought her home. You know how I am," I say softly. "You know I'm awkward as hell around anyone but you. And I do want a real connection. With you."

With those big eyes, she looks up into my face. "Two girls. Right. Whatever."

"God, let's just get this out in the open. I never wanted to break up with you. I thought I was doing the right thing by telling you to move on after the photos. By telling you to go to New York and to school, to forget about everything. Forget about me. I wanted you to stop feeling ashamed after the photos. Obviously, that was the wrong thing to do, since it just pissed you off and made you not talk to me for six years."

"Why would I ever want to forget you?" she whispers.

In one swift motion, I sweep her up, hoisting her by the thighs. I carry her over my shoulder to the sand to the seawall, and we sit, our backs to the water. She yelps then leans into me and sighs my name. I maneuver her onto my lap, so she's sitting sideways. One hand is on her knee, and it's itching to inch up her thigh to where her stocking meets her bare leg. With my other hand, I take the flower from her and tuck it in her ear.

She squirms on my lap. "Are you comfortable?" I ask.

Shaking her head, she rearranges herself, so she's straddling me. She's still so little next to me. 

My dick grows rock hard. I'd wanted just to talk with her, but I can't control that part of my body when she's so close. It's almost embarrassing. 

I look down and see the tops of her thighs punctuated by the stockings and the little skirt. Fighting back a growl, I stare at her. She's like a Goth princess in the moonlight, with her outfit and the flower and her long, nearly white-blonde hair.

"Now, what is it that you want me to say? Do you want me to apologize again? Because I will. I'll apologize for the rest of my life. I've beat myself up for accidentally leaving that phone behind and causing all the problems." I smooth back her hair.

She places her hands on my chest and sighs. "I don't know. I don't know what I want, Diego. Our past is so complicated."

I arrange her long hair behind her shoulders. "Is it, though? Why does everything have to be complicated? I still feel the same way about you as I did six years ago. Why can't we be together? At least try."

"It's not that simple. God, Diego, things are always so black and white for you. Sometimes you're so dense. And I'm working for you."

"So?" I truly don't understand her hesitation.

Her voice is exasperated, but she sighs, and her tone drops lower and becomes sexier. "I know you probably hired me out of pity, but I'd like to pretend otherwise."

"I wanted to be a team with you, bring you into my team, because I think you're smart and capable."

She swallows. It's actually kind of scary how much I still care about you. But I want you to prove to me that you're looking for something meaningful."

"Okay, how's this?" I take her face in my hands and pull her toward me. I claim her mouth in a blazing kiss. It starts off hard and almost angry, but quickly dissolves into a sensual, slow rhythm. She scissors her hands through my hair, tilts my head back and kisses me deeper, biting my bottom lip. The flower tumbles onto the sand.

Our tongues meet, and I feel like my heart is splitting open, pouring out, offering itself in a sacrifice to Cata. I groan and stroke the sides of her body, my thumbs brushing against the roundness of her breasts.

She pulls away and sucks in a breath, but keeps grinding into me, a smile spreading across her face when she realizes how hard I am.

"Am I proving how much I want you? You and only you?" I whisper.

She caresses my face with her hands and nods slowly. "It's a definite start."

Then she leans in, and I feel her body soften into mine. She wraps her arms around me and hugs, tight. Her need is turning me on. She smells so good, like coconut and grass. For all of her black clothes and dark-rimmed blue eyes, she smells like nature and light. I inhale deep, wanting to bathe in her scent and remember it forever.

It's only after a few minutes that I realize her body is trembling and that she's crying.

I unwrap her arms from around my neck and shift so I can look at her.

"Shhhh," I whisper. "Hey. It's okay."

She wipes wet from her cheeks and sniffles. The moonlight and her tears make her face look ethereal, gorgeous, and my breath is taken away by how intensely beautiful she is, like a little, sad doll.

"I'm ... I'm sorry," she says.

I kiss her cheeks and her nose. She flashes a wan smile, and my heart shatters.

"Don't be," I say. "But ... why are you crying?"

She shrugs. "Everything, I guess. Seeing you. Kissing you. My mom leaving. My dad being gone. Being home and the fact I'll be living alone in the house. Losing my job. Nothing is how I planned it. Life isn't going as I intended."

"Maybe your life is going to be a whole lot better than you planned. Have you considered that, Catalina?"

Her shoulders lift in a shrug. "I'm not so sure."

I lean in and kiss her softly. I want to make everything okay with this one kiss, but I know she needs so much more. She needs time. She needs me.

I stop kissing so I can wrap my arms around her. Her small body is warm and soothing. I want to hold her tight and never, ever, let go. This is my chance to prove that she means more to me than a casual hookup.

She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs into my neck. "I think it might have been a mistake to kiss you the other day. It's complicated my life even more."

"Look at me, Cata."

She raises her head, and I trace her mouth with my fingertip. Just like when we were teens, Cata looks vulnerable right when I'm about to kiss her. That look has always slain me. She shivers under my touch, and I seize her jaw in my hand. Not forcefully, but with enough pressure that she knows I'm serious.

I put my lips an inch from hers so I can murmur into her mouth.

"Some mistakes are too good to never happen again."

We kiss more, an intense, hard collision. She pushes my lips apart with her tongue, and I can feel her excitement merging with mine. My hands skim her thighs, slip under her skirt and stop at the top of her stockings when my palms reach bare skin. My fingers are inches from her panties.

Right when I feel like I'm about to go further, I summon some self-control. Removing my hands and breaking from her kiss, I look down. I'm breathing hard, and I smooth her skirt over her legs as if to remind myself that this isn't the time or place for sex.

"What?" she breathes. She puts her forehead to mine, and I can feel that her skin is hot.

"I want you," I say. "But not here. Not like this. Not tonight. Not on a night when you're crying, and your emotions are all over the place. You deserve better."

She sighs again and melts into me.

"That's the Diego I once knew," she whispers. "And I wanted to tell you something."

"What's that?" I rub her back.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

She presses her lips to my cheek. "For helping my family. I didn't thank you before because I didn't know how I felt about it. I still don't, but it means a lot. It means everything. Thank you."

I don't say anything. Instead, I hold her. I could stay like this, right here, all night long.

____