desiderium | m. o'hara

fifteen

  Rosalina's still catching her breath. Her faint grin turns down with a disappointed frown. "I wanted to score the goal."

  "That goal wouldn't have happened if you didn't deliver that beautiful pass," I remind. Miguel nods with agreement.

  Rosalina grumbles, but reluctantly agrees.

  While the kids have their end-of-game huddle, Miguel and I wait with the rest of the parents. Now that the thrill is over, the chill returns to my bones. I hunch in my coat and shiver, teeth chattering. Miguel watches me for a moment.

  "Cold?" he eventually asks. At my nod, he hesitates. "I..."

  I peek up at him. His brows are furrowed with some internal struggle, like he's not sure how far to go. He stares down at me with a helpless frown as he thinks.

  I decide to help nudge him in the right direction. "Can you help me warm up a little?"

  Miguel's face floods with relief. He nods, opening his arms with his hands still in his pockets. I slip against his chest and he wraps himself around me, jacket and all, like a massive weighted blanket. And his jacket doesn't fully cover me, doesn't even cover half of me, really, but his body is so wonderfully hot that it doesn't matter.

  I can practically feel my veins thawing. I sigh contently and sink deeper into him, eyes closing, breath a heavy fog. It's been a while since I've been held like this, and my body trills pleasantly beneath his contact.

  My head's against his chest. His heart is racing.

  So is mine.

  "Better?" Miguel's voice is loud beneath my head, vibrating with his timbre. There's a slight shake to it.

  I nod tinily. "Better," I whisper.

  We stay like this until Rosalina's team comes flooding out from the changing room. She approaches us, lugging her bag and weary with low energy, and smiles.

  "Can we get McDonald's?" she asks.

  Miguel hisses through his teeth in regret. "I dunno, kiddo. We've got a nice dinner of fish and peas lined up."

  Rosalina's face falls. Those are her two least favourite foods. "Seriously?" she whines.

  "No," he snorts. "We'll get McDonald's."

  She brightens, and then scowls up at Miguel, which is a hilarious sight considering their comical difference in size. "Don't tease me like that!"

  Miguel chuckles. It rolls through me and imbues my body with even more pleasure than before.

  "This is very cute and all, but I'm cold. Can we go before my toes fall off, please?" I ask with a chatter of my teeth.

  Really, I'd like to stay longer in Miguel's arms, but the wind still nips cruelly at my exposed face. Home sounds good right now.

  "Can't have mama losing her toes," Miguel comments. Rosalina firmly shakes her head. "C'mon, chiquita, let's get your bag in the car."

  Miguel lifts his arms for me to step away from him, and the coldness that now clings to my back makes me shudder. Suddenly and inexplicably overcome with nerves, I meet his gaze. It lingers, before Rosalina complains that we're taking too unlock the car. We look away.

  We stop by McDonald's on the way home and Rosalina recounts her pass to Jamie while stuffing chips into her mouth. She's now decided that her pass is the best part of the entire season of football.

  The closer we get to departing for home, the more I become intimately aware of how I won't be sleeping alone tonight. I keep glancing at Miguel over the table. He catches me a handful of times, but doesn't say anything about it.