Theresa woke up with a terrible headache that was a consequence of the previous night's drunkenness, sat up on the bed grimacing annoyed at the light coming in through the window. She remembered little, she went into a nightclub to drink and have some fun until a handsome man, who did not remember who he was, took her home, but how did he know where she lived if she did not tell him her address? This was a question that at that moment I had no courage or conditions to answer.
After going to the bathroom and doing her necessities, she left her room, but the smell of breakfast that invaded her nostrils without permission stoked her hungry stomach.
With latent curiosity, He headed to the kitchen and what was her surprise when she came across Hector on his back, shirtless and with his muscles apparent, his jeans hanging loosely around his waist, the scene instantly excited her.
"Drug!" Theresa thought, running her tongue over her parched lips.
"Are you just going to stand there?" He asked in his hoarse, baritone voice, not even turning to face her.
Theresa answered, pulled out a dry plastic stick and settled into it. The awkward silence that followed was only broken by the heavy
breathing of both of them.
"Theresa, why did you come to my club yesterday?"
Hector stood in front of her, leaning his elbows on the counter, his muscles bulging before her eyes.
"To have fun, well." She replied somewhat evasively, not wanting to tell her father's best friend that she caught her ex-fiancé cheating on her.
He nodded in agreement, but the look he gave Theresa told him otherwise. She realized there was worry hidden in his gaze.
"And what brings you here, Hector?"
"I'm the one who brought you home, Theresa," he replied quietly.
They stared at each other for a few minutes, each analyzing
each other in a comfortable silence, but that silence was interrupted by the shrill sound of the doorbell.
"Let me get that." Hector said authoritatively.
Hector headed for the front door of the apartment, he didn't
worry about being shirtless, let alone being in a young woman's house like that. He didn't bother to look into the peephole of the door that was on the other side, he opened the door of the common quick tug.
To no surprise from him, the one 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 harshly trying to push the door so he has a passage to enter the apartment, which was useless because Hector had twice his strength.
"She's not home."
Ryan looked at him incredulously.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"It's not your bill, 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 wanted to do, so he quickly told him:
"I'll get straight to the point, Ryan, Theresa doesn't want to see you even painted gold, so do yourself a favor and get off the map."
Ryan snorted in displeasure turned his back on Hector and grumbled.
"It's not gonna go like this."
Hector ignored him, closed the door, and headed for the kitchen. Theresa was sitting in the same place, her eyes watering from an unshed cry, he watched her tenderly in an attempt to identify what had happened the day before, but he was sure that whatever had happened had to do with Ryan.
"I… am no longer engaged to Ryan." Theresa said as if it were the most normal news in the world.
"Why?" Hector asked, getting closer and closer to her.
"Because he was cheating on me with who knows who." She replied without altering her tone of voice.
"But how could you tell?"
"I caught him getting a blowjob from the whore he was cheating on me with."
"So that's why you were at the club last night." He stated.
Theresa nodded in agreement even though she knew it wasn't a question.
"Thank you for not letting him in and kicking him out of here."
"No need to thank you, Little Angel." Hector said serenely, not caring about the last word he let slip.
She widened her eyes in surprise at the way he called her.
They spent the morning between conversations about amenities, Hector kept watching her, while Theresa told him about her daily life at the college she attended. He could even be called a passionate beast now that he couldn't care less. What he wanted most was to know everything about this young woman, and if he had to listen to her all morning, he didn't care a bit.
"Holy crap! With each passing hour I feel more attracted to Theresa." He thought watching her honey-colored eyes.
"You must be tired of listening to me…"
"I'm not. " He could listen to you all day and I wouldn't get tired. He interrupted her, his eyes fixed on hers, conveying confidence.
She was surprised by this, no one had ever told her that.
She looked away momentarily embarrassed, but even so she continued to recount the event of weeks ago that she had interrupted in the middle.
Hector got up and went to the other side of the kitchen, Theresa was surprised and asked:
"What are you going to do?"
"Something to eat," he replied simply. "You can stand there and continue to tell me what you were telling me."
"But don't you want me to help you?"
"You know how to cook?"
"I don't know."
"Then stand there and watch me." He said, giving her a corner smile that made butterflies fly in her stomach.
He started preparing a chicken strogonoff, while Theresa watched him with apparent desire on her face. She'd never thought she'd feel
longing for Hector, but here she was sighing and almost throwing herself into the arms of her father's friend.