The Way He Looked at Her

The car door slammed behind Sofia with a sharp crack, almost too loud in the hot afternoon air. The sun beat down on her skin like a burning hand. She squinted, and the first thing she saw was him.

Pedro.

Shirtless, skin gleaming with sweat and sunscreen, old khaki canvas shorts slung low on his hips, revealing the clean line of his obliques. He held a water bottle in one hand, the other resting on the deck railing. When he spotted them, his face broke into that wide smile, the one that always brought out the little crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"¡Por fin! Here they are, the stars of Los Angeles!"

His low voice, with that accent that rolled the *r*'s like a caress. Sofia felt her stomach clench. She stood there a second too long, watching him come down the steps to greet them.

Javier got out first, slapping Pedro with a manly embrace the usual back-slaps, the knowing laughs. Diego followed, already teasing Pedro about his "old man's new haircut." Pedro hadn't changed a thing in ten years, just a few more silver threads at his temples, and it suited him far too well.

Sofia got out last.

Pedro turned his head toward her.

"Mija…"

He looked her up and down, not quite meaning to, or maybe he did. His eyes lingered a fraction of a second on her bare legs, on the high-riding denim shorts, on the white tank top that clung slightly from the car's heat. Then he lifted his gaze, and his smile softened almost wary.

"You've grown, huh?"

She shrugged, trying to keep her voice even.

"It happens. Hey, Pedro."

He stepped closer, placed a hand on her shoulder just a second, but long enough for her to feel the warmth of his palm, the roughness of calluses. She felt her pulse spike in her throat.

Then Ellie appeared behind his father.

Ellie, nineteen now, taller than last year, shoulders a little broader, the same shy smile from when they were twelve. He wore a faded black T-shirt and basketball shorts, headphones still looped around his neck.

"Sof!"

He pulled her into a hug without hesitating too long, too tight, his hands sliding a little too low on her back before coming back up. Sofia caught the scent of his deodorant, of sunscreen, and something familiar that reminded her of summers past. She patted his back, uncomfortable.

"Hey, Ellie. How are you?"

"Yeah… so glad you're here."

He finally let her go, but his eyes stayed locked on hers a second too long. She looked away, her gaze meeting Pedro's, who was watching them, still, one eyebrow slightly raised.

The unloading began. Suitcases, cooler, grocery bags. Pedro took Sofia's heaviest suitcase without asking, the muscles in his back rolling under his skin as he hoisted it. Their hands brushed on the handle. Just a touch. Electric. She pulled hers away like she'd been burned but not fast enough that he didn't notice. He said nothing. Just a small sideways smile, almost imperceptible.

The house was the same: four bedrooms, hers at the end of the hall, the one with the window that looked straight out at the ocean. She'd always had that room to herself, since she was twelve. Javier used to call it "the big girl's room," even when she wasn't quite a big girl yet. She walked in, set her suitcase on the bed, and closed the door.

The silence hit her all at once.

She sat on the edge of the mattress, hands on her thighs. The drive had tired her the heat, the looks, all of it. She closed her eyes.

She saw Pedro shirtless on the deck again. The way the light played on his skin, the tiny beads of sweat trailing down his sternum, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. She bit her lower lip.

Her hands slid slowly over her own thighs, traveled upward, grazing the inside. She thought of him. Of what she'd imagined for six months. Of what she didn't dare admit to herself.

She lay back across the bed, hair fanned out on the comforter. Her right hand slipped beneath the elastic of her shorts. She was already wet. Just like that. Just because he was out there, a few yards away.

She squeezed her eyes tighter. Imagined his hands instead. Rough, warm, gripping her hips. His mouth on her neck. His ragged breath against her ear as he murmured "mija" but differently, lower, more possessive.

Her fingers moved faster. She stifled a moan, biting her wrist. The pleasure rose quickly, almost too quickly. She thought of him watching her, those dark eyes devouring her as she pleasured herself for him.

When she came, it was silent, violent muscles tensed, back arching off the bed. She lay there, breathless, cheeks burning.

Then the guilt came, as it always did, on the second wave.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and dialed Isabella without thinking.

Her mother picked up on the second ring.

"Sweetheart? Everything okay?"

"Yeah… we just got here."

A pause. Isabella knew how to read her daughter's silences.

"You sound off. Is it the heat? Or something else?"

Sofia hesitated. She couldn't tell her everything. Not yet. Maybe never.

"Just… tired from the drive. And… I was thinking about the divorce. About all of it."

Isabella sighed softly.

"It's been three years, Sofia. You don't have to carry that your whole life. Your father and I… we did what we could. Sometimes people love each other badly. It happens."

"I know."

"And you? Are you really okay?"

Sofia closed her eyes. In the distance, she heard Pedro laughing with Javier, the clink of bottles being set on the deck table.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I think."

They talked a little longer. Isabella told her about her latest business trip, her new promotion, her life moving forward without looking back. Sofia listened, admiring, envious, a little sad.

When she hung up, the sun was lower.

Outside, the barbecue was being prepped. The smell of charcoal and grilled meat was already drifting up to her window.

She got up, splashed water on her face, put on fresh underwear, and slipped into a light cream-colored dress that ended mid-thigh.

She went downstairs.

Pedro was there, still shirtless, flipping steaks on the grill. He looked up when she appeared in the sliding door frame.

He looked at her.

Long.

Too long.

And this time, he didn't look away first.

Sofia felt the heat rise in her belly again stronger than before.

Summer had just begun.