Maldeamores (Lovesick) (Heightsbound #0.5) (4 page)

Chapter 6

T
hat boy with the golden eyes is playing basketball with his friends. I always notice him whenever he’s around. His dark skin and light eyes make him look like a panther—a slinky big cat that’s on the prowl; he owns this whole playground. When I make eye contact with him I feel like he’s made out of energy. I don’t know how to describe it, but he’s buzzing and humming even when he’s still. I think that’s why everybody likes him. Me, I’m just a girl with skinny legs and good hair and even better grades—maybe the best in school. All the boys go toward him like magnets because he always has the drugs and the girls and the pull-up muscles to boot.

I watch Luciano go over to him and start acting cool. His gestures and body language change when it’s me and him alone—at home, on the way to school, he’s just Luciano. But when he’s with other boys, especially the ones from the neighborhood, he stands with his legs farther apart, his voice gets louder, everything is over the top. Suddenly his pants hang lower, he speaks more Spanish and swears between every few words. I probably shouldn’t like it when he’s acting all street, but I do. I actually like it a lot. I know what Titi and Mami would say. They wouldn’t tolerate it.

I reach inside my pocket and pull out a square of pink bubble gum. It’s covered in lint but I pick it off and pop it in my mouth anyway. It’s so juicy and big that my eyes water and my spit runs. I flatten it out with my tongue and try to make a bubble. I hear Luciano say my name and when I look up the boy with the golden eyes is heading right to the monkey bars that I’m sitting under. He takes big steps like he’s on a mission and I automatically pull my legs in tighter underneath me.

When he reaches me he pops my bubble with his finger. I blush and lower my eyes. I watch his feet jump up off the ground to grab the bar.

Expensive kicks, nice muscles, sexy smile, eyes the same color as honey. His panther eyes make him look like he comes from some other planet—the planet of men.

“Lucky’s kid cousin?” he asks me, starting his pull-ups and not even grunting.

“Lucky?” I ask. “Luc? You mean, Luciano Cabrera?”

“I call him Lucky,” he says and hops down, landing on two feet just like a gymnast. He jumps again and grabs the tallest bar. He pulls himself all the way up and turns his hands around. Then he starts doing push-ups with his whole body suspended, the bar at his waist.

“Count with me,” he says and then winks right at me. His face is lit up with a smile and I can feel the smile tickle me all the way to my toes. I blush again and look down but I count out loud with him.

When I look up again I have to squint through the sun. He’s so fine and his eyes are glowing. His smile is mischievous and makes me feel kind of dizzy. We count to forty-two and he never loses momentum.

He hops down again and leans over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. He uses the back of his wrapped hands to wipe sweat from his face. I’m just staring. I even stopped chewing my gum.

“Why do you call him Lucky?”

“’Cause he’s got you for a cousin.” He smiles and wipes the sweat out of his eyes.

I feel fluttering in my stomach. “No, really. Why?”

“Lucky Luciano, an OG New York Gangster. Mafia. Ever heard of him?”

I shake my head and remember to chew my gum again.

“Want to try?” he asks.

“What, the bars? I’m not strong enough.”

“Sure you are, I’ll help you jump up.”

I stand and he puts his hands on my waist. It’s easy to jump up with the help from his lift. I grab the bar and manage to hold on for about five seconds before I drop.

“Try again, I’ll spot you this time.”

I jump again and hang for a few seconds. I shake my head at Yellow-eyes and he grabs me around the midriff. I let go and my body weight falls into his arms. I’m very aware that Luciano is watching us. My chest is against his chest and he slides my body down his slowly, making my shirt ride up over my belly.

“Bey!” I hear Luciano call. He must not have liked seeing the handsome guy touching me.

My cousin comes waking over. He struts on the playground—wide steps, long arm swings, head cocked a little to the side.

“Yo, Jay, lay the fuck off my baby cousin!”

“I’m not a baby,” I say, locking eyes with Jay. He is so beautiful. More beautiful than me.

“He’s just jealous ‘cause he wants you,” he says and winks at me again.

Luciano reaches up and throws out his arm. They clap hands, shake and bump fists. They even pull each other into a quick hug amidst murmured insults in Spanish.

“Bey, you know Jaylee from 159th St?”

I just shrug and stare at them both. They are unruly boys and both handsome; I like how they look together. I think they’re probably up to no good.

“How come I never heard anyone call you Lucky?” I ask my cousin. Jaylee has fallen to the ground and is doing more push-ups.

“Just like you don’t like it when I call you Lenny,” he says and pulls out a cigarette.

“I’m telling Titi you were smoking.”

“No you won’t, ‘cause you love me,” Luciano says, hitting my arm.

“I’m gonna go. It’s gonna get dark and I’m hungry,” I say, standing and dusting my butt with my hands.

Lucky jumps up and tosses the cigarette.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says and throws out his arm to Jaylee again. They do the same handshake but this time when they go in for the hug, Jaylee flexes his bicep and ducks his head. I can plainly hear him say to Luciano, “
Mano
, you are so fucking gone.”

Maybe they’re talking about drugs. Maybe they’re talking about me but I don’t know what it means or if it’s even a good thing.

We walk back down Riverside Drive as the sun sets. It’s all pinks and oranges over the Hudson, bright colors competing against a darkening sky. Luciano grabs my hand and I hold his tightly. Sometimes he does this on the way to school when no one is looking. It produces a warm rush in my stomach when it happens, but when it doesn’t it produces just the opposite and I almost feel nauseous.

We stop on almost every corner to say hi to friends. Tonight he doesn’t drop my hand and I feel like it might be because his friend, the boy from the playground, paid attention to me. I like how he talks to people, how they tease one another. I also like how even though they’re bad boys they are polite to me for the most part.

When we say goodbye on his landing, Luciano pulls me into a hug. He doesn’t usually hug me unless there’s a good reason. I pull him in tightly and squeeze as hard as I can. He smells like Titi’s house and fabric softener and cigarette smoke, all with a strong undertone of boy smell. I thought I didn’t like boy smell, but with Luciano, I love it. I hug him hard and when we say goodbye I run up the stairs to my room, lock the door and cry.

Now that Luciano lives in the same building, he comes over all the time. Both he and Titi have a key, and I have one to their apartment that I keep on my key chain.

Our front door opens while I’m sitting at the dining room table doing homework. I look up, expecting to see Mami coming in with the groceries, but instead it’s Luciano and he doesn’t look good.

His lip is swollen and bleeding—his eye took a punch too, and it’s almost closed from the pressure. He’s hurt and it startles me. I stand up and my pen rolls to the floor, but I stay silent, waiting for him to say something first.

“I didn’t think you’d be home,” he says. His face is totally straight, lacking any emotion.

“The library was closed for a special event. Was there a fight? Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

He nods and says nothing.

“Let me get you some ice,” I say, running to the kitchen.

I put ice in a bowl and run a clean towel under water, then grab some gauze and peroxide from the bathroom and take it all to the living room where he’s sitting.

Kneeling down beside him, I put ice cubes in the wet towel and lift it to his face. I ask permission with my eyes and Luciano gives me a quick nod. He winces from either the cold or the pressure and I put my hand on his chest to calm him. It’s an automatic gesture.

“Does it hurt?” I ask him.

He shakes his head.

His chest feels solid under his T-shirt and touching it does strange things to my body. I try to focus on the task in front of me.

“Titi will kill you,” I say, pulling my mind away from his hard chest. “You should try to stay out of fights,” I add, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around him or crawl into his lap. Luciano is, and has always been, the only man in my life. I look to him for reassurance all the time, even though we’re almost the same age.

I dab at the gash under his eye that is bleeding the most.

“Easier said than done,” he says, and then grabs my wrist hard. I stare at the juncture where his hand meets my arm. His knuckles are white and my skin under his grip is turning bright pink.

My lips immediately part and my stomach fills with unease. I can always read Luciano, but right now I can’t tell what’s happening. He has sweat on his brow and there’s dirt smudged on his face and his arm. He doesn’t release my hand.

“Luciano, you’re scaring me.”

He drops my wrist disdainfully and his eyes graze slowly down my body. I glance down at my own chest and suddenly remember that I took my bra off when I got in. I’m wearing a white button-down shirt, unbuttoned a little bit. My nipples are hard from the cold ice in the tea cloth. The shirt brushes over my breasts just enough to make shivers skirt up my back.

Luciano pushes me off of him and stands up abruptly. He adjusts his shorts in the front without turning to look at me.

“Belén, put some fucking clothes on,” he states coldly.

I blush a deep red and feel the urge to holler that it’s not my fault, but instead I look at the floor and wish I could comfort him. I don’t know what happened. I want to be the person who can help him.

“I’m sorry, Luc. I didn’t know you were coming.”

Chapter 7

Lucky

I
try to avoid her as much as possible now. I know it’s not her fault, but I can’t stand to be around her. It makes me feel like I’m fighting myself—all this stress and tension and then getting turned on by her tight little body. I know I can’t go there, I can’t be that fucked up. I just keep telling myself that I’m young and horny—that one time was because I was already lit on that other chick being over.

But if I’m being honest, Belén does strange shit to my mind. It’s like I want to protect her and eat her up all at the same time. All I know is that I feel fucking nuts when I’m around her, so I try to lie low and fill my time up with enough shit that I can avoid running into her.

I promised Tía Betty that I’d teach Belén how to defend herself. It’s not like I’m giving her a lesson behind closed doors—my ma is home and Betty is bringing Belén over. But they don’t know I kissed Belén or how fucked up I feel about it.

I smoked a joint on the fire escape to try to tame my nerves down a notch. I’m high as a kite and I can barely remember the shit they taught me in my martial arts classes. I open the door when they knock and Belén looks as nervous as I feel. I gotta smile though, ‘cause she’s wearing sweats like she’s coming over for a workout.

“What up, Bey? Ready to kick my ass?”

Bey’s color drops like she wants to die on the spot.

“Don’t worry, I promise to take it easy on you,” I say to Tía Betty as much as Belén.

“
Gracias, mi hijo
,” Betty says, ushering Belén in and brushing past me.

The dining room is empty ‘cause we didn’t get a table yet; I walk in there and Bey follows me. Our moms are in the room right next to us, chatting and watching TV.

“This is so stupid. I can’t believe she’s making me do it.”

“It ain’t that bad. This neighborhood is fucked up, you might need to use it. Nice sweat suit,” I say, unable to hide my amusement.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she says, moving her hands across her chest.

“This is good. Stay like that,” I say and move around behind her. I wrap my arms around hers and squeeze her in a tight grip. She’s so small and her hair smells good enough for me to want to nuzzle my face in it.

“How’d you shake me if I had you like this?” I ask.

Belén tries to pull her arms apart and groans at the effort. She doesn’t move an inch even though she’s trying as hard as she can. I can’t help but smile at how cute she is.

“Do it to me and I’m gonna show you how to get out of it.”

Belén wraps her arms around me and I laugh at her size. She knees me in the butt and we both start to laugh at the situation. I shoulda shared the joint with her to loosen her up.

“You’re gonna bend your knees fast and twist out of it. He’s not expecting you to go down, so his grip is centered on you breaking free from the front.” I show her a couple of times. “Get it? Now you try.”

Belén slips around front and her ass brushes my groin. I fight with everything inside me to ignore it and move on. She slips through my arms easily the next couple of rounds. I’m letting her win, because it’s all I can do to keep my dick from getting hard.

“It’s hot in here,” Belén says, brushing a stray bit of hair from her cheek.

“Yeah,” I say, looking at her flushed face and thinking about how pretty she is.

I teach her the same surprise technique to roll your arms in and under when someone grabs both of your forearms. She gets that one quick and giggles at her own ability. I smile as I watch her confidence rise.

“How’s it going in here?” Tía Betty asks, coming in to observe.

“Belén’s a natural. They gonna be sorry they ever laid hands on her.”

“God forbid!” Betty says. “Well, she’s got a great teacher.” My aunt nods her head, looking at me affectionately. Her compliment makes me feel good, like I’m useful to them. Belén’s a goddamned natural at everything. Sometimes I feel like a loser in comparison.

“The last thing I’m gonna show you is how to get out from under a straddle. I know it sounds impossible, especially when you’re small, but there’s a trick to it.”

Belén looks nervous and casts her eyes to the floor. She doesn’t want me to straddle her. I don’t want to straddle her either and at the same time, alls I want to do is fucking straddle her.

“Lie down on the floor,” I tell her. She does as I ask. She looks scared stiff. I stand over her, one foot on each side of her waist. She’s playing with her fingers nervously. I kinda want to say something to get her to calm down, but at the same time her nerves are adorable. I know she’s thinking about the kiss right now, but I can’t let my head go there.

“Belén!” I say, and she looks up to my face. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“I know,” she says, so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

I kneel over her hips and then lower my weight onto her. I grab both of her arms and lift them above her head. I put pressure on her wrists and stare into her face.
Jesus Fucking Christ I want to kiss her!

“Try to throw me off,” I say. Belén struggles pathetically. She doesn’t move an inch. It’s not that she’s not trying but it’s the most vulnerable possible position to be in. I learned this in wrestling and I know you can throw someone twice your size if you use the right leverage.

I try not to feel the area where our thighs come together. I try hard not to notice the heat that radiates out from her center. I try even harder not to notice that my dick is twitching. She’s trying too, pretending that she doesn’t feel it either.

“Move your feet in, up closer to your butt,” I command. Belén’s face is flushed and her eyes tell me she’s somewhere else. But she still responds to the call of my voice. She lifts her feet and I pretend I don’t notice the roll of her hips under mine and how innocent and sweet she feels trapped underneath me.

“Now you got stronger leverage, so you’re going to thrust with your hips up and to the side; at the same time use the force of your arms together to bring your whole body up. Understand?”

She nods and our eyes catch. She doesn’t want out of this position. I don’t either. My cock starts to grow just from making eye contact with her.

“Push me off,” I say and Belén does her damnedest. She follows the directions and she does have a little bit of power. But for some asshole reason I can’t let her win this one. I stay right the fuck on top of her.

Her breath is coming fast and she thrusts again, this time rolling her hips to the right. I press in harder with mine and force her hands to the floor again. At this point I’m just fucking with her.

“I can’t do it, Lucky!” she says, still exerting fierce little Belén energy.

“One more time!” I say and she pulls her feet in closer to her butt and thrusts, lifting her pelvis up. I roll off of her still holding her wrists. She ends up on top of me, our positions reversed. But instead of getting off, she lets go of my arms and then slaps me.

“What the fuck?” I say, grabbing my face. I scramble to get her wrists and I roll this time, faster, yanking her under me. I’m back on top and she’s breathing so hard her chest is heaving. I can see her nipples through her sports bra and now my stupid cock is fully at attention.

‘Why’d you slap me, Belén?” I ask, all out of breath.

“’Cause you deserve it! You’re an attacker,” she says, and I smile a little.

“I’m gonna teach you how to really hit. You can’t go around bitch-slapping people.”

I get her up against the wall and adjust my crotch.

“Make a fist like this, Bey,” I say, holding my fist up to her face.

She mimics my fist and hers is tiny. She puts both fists up like she’s ready to box me. She is not a tough girl at all and I almost start laughing.

“Come up from underneath, just like this, toward my jaw.” I wrap my hand around her fist and guide it in an upper-cut to my face. Belén looks at me with so much trust that it guts me. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks pink, her hair messy. She chews on her lip while she traces the line in the air with her fist.

“Go ahead, hit me.”

“I don’t want to,” she says, looking frustrated.

“Yes you do!”

“I don’t want to, Lucky.”

“Fucking hit me, Bey. I need to know that you can take care of yourself!”

“No!” she says and I force her back hard. I grab her arms again and pin them to the wall. I don’t think we’re talking about hitting anymore; we’re talking about that kiss.

I want to grab her chin and force her to kiss me again with all that she’s got. I want to shove my body against her and show her just how fucking crazy she makes me.

But instead I lay my forehead against hers and the tips of our noses touch. I close my eyes and nod my head ever so lightly.

“Game over!” I say and spring back from the wall. Belén’s face goes into shock as I simultaneously abandon all of the points of contact between our bodies.

“I’m done!” I say and stride to my bedroom.

I slam the door in case they don’t understand just how fucking done I am.