Chapter 2

Theresa woke up with a terrible headache, a consequence of her drunkenness from the previous night. She sat up in bed, grimacing, annoyed by the sunlight streaming through the window. She remembered very little; she had gone to a nightclub to drink and have some fun until a handsome man, whom she couldn't recall, took her home. But how did he know where she lived if she hadn't given him her address? That was a question she neither had the energy nor the condition to answer at that moment.

After going to the bathroom and taking care of her needs, she left her bedroom. However, the smell of breakfast invading her nostrils without permission stirred her hungry stomach.

With latent curiosity, she headed to the kitchen, and what was her surprise to find Hector with his back to her, shirtless, his muscles apparent. His jeans hung loosely on his waist; the scene excited her instantly.

"Dammit!" Theresa thought, running her tongue over her dry lips.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asked in his hoarse, baritone voice, without even turning to look at her.

Theresa didn't answer. She pulled out a dry plastic stool and settled on it. The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken only by the heavy breathing of both.

"Theresa, what was the reason you went to my nightclub last night?" Hector placed black coffee with sugar in front of her, while leaning his elbows on the counter, making his muscles jump out at her.

"To have fun, of course," she replied somewhat evasively. She didn't want to tell her father's best friend that she had caught her ex-fiancé cheating on her.

He nodded in agreement, yet the look he gave Theresa told her otherwise. She noticed there was hidden concern in his gaze.

"And what brings you here, Hector?"

"I'm the one who brought you home, Theresa," he answered calmly.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, each analyzing the other in a comfortable silence. However, this silence was interrupted by the strident sound of the doorbell.

"Let me get it," Hector said authoritatively.

Hector headed for the apartment's entrance door. He wasn't worried about being shirtless, much less about being in a young woman's house in that manner. He didn't bother to look through the peephole to see who was on the other side; he opened the door with a quick, common pull.

To no surprise of his, waiting for the door to open was Ryan, Theresa's fiancé. Hector stared at him, wondering what that guy was doing there.

"Where's Theresa?" Ryan asked rudely, trying to push the door to gain passage into the apartment, which was useless because Hector had twice his strength.

"She's not home."

Ryan looked at him with disbelief.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"None of your business, Ryan."

"I know she's in there..." he said furiously, trying again to push the door, uselessly, "...and you must be her lover, right?"

Hector realized what he was trying to do, so he promptly told him:

"I'll be direct, Ryan. Theresa doesn't want to see you, even if you were painted gold. Do yourself a favor and disappear off the map."

Ryan snorted in discontent, turned his back to Hector, and muttered:

"This isn't over."

Hector ignored him, closed the door, and headed back to the kitchen. Theresa was sitting in the same spot, her eyes teary from unshed tears. He observed her with tenderness, trying to figure out what had happened the day before, but he was sure that whatever it was, it had to do with Ryan.

"I... I'm no longer engaged to Ryan," Theresa said as if it were the most normal news in the world.

"Why?" Hector asked, moving closer and closer to her.

"Because he was cheating on me with God knows who," she replied without changing her tone of voice.

"And how did you find out?"

"I caught him getting a blowjob from the slut he was cheating on me with."

"So that's why you were at the nightclub last night," he stated.

Theresa nodded in agreement, even knowing it wasn't a question.

"Thank you for not letting him in and for kicking him out."

"No need to thank me, Angel," Hector said serenely, not minding the last word that had slipped out.

She widened her eyes, surprised by the way he had called her.

They spent the morning talking about trivialities. Hector couldn't stop observing her, while Theresa told him about her daily life at the college she attended. He could even be called a lovesick fool now, and he wouldn't care in the least. What he wanted most was to know everything about that young woman, and if to know he had to listen to her all morning, he didn't mind at all.

"Holy shit! With every passing hour, I feel more attracted to Theresa," he thought, observing her honey-colored eyes.

"You must be tired of listening to me..."

"I'm not. I could listen to you all day and not get tired," he interrupted her, his eyes fixed on hers, transmitting confidence.

She was surprised by that; no one had ever told her that before. She averted her gaze momentarily, embarrassed, but even so, she continued telling the story from weeks ago that she had interrupted halfway through.

Hector got up and went to the other side of the kitchen. Theresa found it strange and asked:

"What are you going to do?"

"Make something for us to eat," he replied simply. "You can stay there and keep telling me what you were telling me."

"But don't you want me to help you?"

"Do you know how to cook?"

"No, I don't."

"Then stay there and watch me," he said, giving a corner smile that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.

He started preparing a chicken stroganoff, while Theresa watched him with apparent desire on her face. She had never thought she would feel desire for Hector, but there she was, sighing and almost throwing herself into the arms of her father's friend.