He tried to avoid her all day. At morning, he barely ate in order to get out of the house as soon as possible, and once in the Roller, he tried to focus on literally anything else. It was almost working, but then Gary announced he was leaving the Roller and leaving her in charge and it was impossible not to think about her anymore.
So here he was, another day and yet another sleepless night. But the reason this time was entirely different.
He kept turning on his bed, the images he had been trying to escape during the day coming to haunt him at night.
He could see Ámbar standing in the kitchen, her see-through gown alluring. He could see her face getting closer, her eyes looking straight into his, her lips moving so close that he could almost feel them.
And that was the worst part— that he could feel them. A whole day had passed and he could still feel her lips against his own, could still remember the smoothness of her skin under his touch, the soft and yet hard way their bodies pushed together.
And the guilt drowned him, because he had told himself he wouldn't fall for her games, because she had a boyfriend, because he had to listen to his friends worrying about what she'd do to them now that she was the manager and they had reasons to...
And most of all, because against everything, he craved to do it again.
It was so stupid, feeling guilty over not feeling guilty enough. But the thing was, he should regret it all, and he should feel horrible for playing with someone else's feelings (even Benicio's), and he should feel terrible about himself. But the thing he actually regretted the most was making out in Luna's kitchen. That was wrong on so many levels. But it was also Ámbar's kitchen and Ámbar... The more he remembered her taste the more he wanted to taste it again. Deep down, all he wanted was to touch her again, everything else be damned, and that was what he felt the guiltiest about.
But he couldn't allow himself to be that selfish and reckless, so he tried to convince himself that he did regret it, that he was an awful person for having done that, and that he was never going to do it again.
His inner battle wasn't letting him rest. He needed to clear his mind and the only way he knew how was playing music. So, he stood up, put on a pair of sandals and went outside, heading for the storage room. Mónica had told them that day that they could use that space to rehearse freely and without bothering anyone with the loud instruments. He walked inside, grabbed his guitar and sat on one of the sofa beds that apparently Luna's parents were arranging for them because there were folded blankets around them.
He started by playing some random chords, trying one after the other until the tune sounded right. Then he tried different speeds and strum patterns before changing to fingerpicking. Without realizing, the melody started to sound familiar...
"That's my song."
Simón's head snapped up at the voice and his heart skipped a beat when he realized it was Ámbar. Somehow, she had managed to enter the storage room, close the door behind her and move in front of him without him realizing it.
"What?"
That was all that he could come up with.
"You're playing my song, "¿Cómo me ves?" It's a nice acoustic version. I like it."
So that was why it sounded familiar. He couldn't believe it; he had come here to avoid thinking about her and then his mind had betrayed him by making him play her song. A song that they had sung together once... but that was a long time ago.
Anyway, he wasn't going to dwell on that because it could push him into dangerous territory, so he focused on the other matter at hand.
"What are you doing here, Ámbar?"
"I followed you. But—" She paused, lifting a hand in the air. "—before you call me a stalker, I gotta clarify that it was because you scared me. I was in my room, trying to sleep, when I heard footsteps. And I thought 'who could possibly be roaming about at this hour?' So, I got up, followed the sound and got a glimpse of you walking out the front door. I figured you'd be coming here so I grabbed my robe and went outside as well. I imagined you'd like some company."
She started taking a step closer but he stood up immediately.
"Well, thanks for the thoughtful gesture but I'm done here so I'll return to my room."
"You just got here," she pointed out.
Simón left his guitar on top of the other sofa bed, paying no mind to her tone. "I just wanted to play a little to calm my head. And I did. Now I'm sleepy so I'm gonna go."
He walked past her towards the door, but before he could open it, she spoke up.
"I've been thinking about you too, you know?"
He froze in front of the exit, the hand that had been hanging over the handle coming back to his side.
"What are you talking about?"
"You said you came here to calm your head. I assume what happened last night hasn't let you sleep. It's the same for me."
She was so right that it infuriated him because he didn't want to be thinking about it, he didn't want to be feeling this way, he didn't want his life to get any more complicated and yet she kept pushing.
He turned around, facing her indignantly.
"Ámbar, my life doesn't revolve around you, okay? Maybe I'm still sad about Nico, maybe I'm worried about the future of our skating team, maybe I'm nostalgic about Mexico. There are a thousand other reasons why I could be restless, but of course you assume it's about you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you calling me self-centered?"
He pursed his lips and shrugged. "You said it, not me."
She scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her. "I can't believe you. I just found you playing one of my songs while looking all melancholic and you're gonna turn this on me?"
"I was just trying random chords, it was a coincidence—"
"Bullshit," she cut him off, not buying his nonchalant attitude.
Simón opened his mouth but then changed his mind and closed it.
"You know what, Ámbar? Think whatever you want." He turned towards the door once more.
"Sure, go ahead and run like you always do," he heard her say behind him. "You know what you are? A coward. A sad, sad, spineless guy."
He couldn't help but turn around. "Excuse me?"
Ámbar looked at him straight in the eye. "You heard me. It's clear that you want me but instead of facing it you find excuses to pull away. I don't even know why I bother with you. Just leave. Go on with your boring life."
He gave her a humorless laugh and walked closer, ticking off on his fingers. "Well, if you think that the fact that you're the enemy of the Roller team, the fact that we are very different people, the fact that you refuse to be a better person and the fact that you have a boyfriend are just excuses, then sure, I'm lame for staying away from you. But I actually would call it being smart."
She pointed a finger at him. "See? There you go again with that 'different people' and 'better person' monologue. And you call me self-centered." She rolled her eyes. "Go ahead, keep denying. I have no interest in being with someone as condescending as you."
This time it was her who moved to leave, but he stopped her by grabbing her arm.
"Are you serious? After complaining about me running away you're gonna do the same thing?"
She yanked her arm free from his hold. "I'm not running away. I'm choosing what's best for me, which is staying away from a guy who patronizes me and won't allow himself to come near me because I'm not enough for him."
His eyes flew open wide. "What?"
"Admit it, Simón!" She was yelling at him now, outraged. "That's the real reason you're always going on and on about me 'changing'. It's not out of any nobility, you think you are too good for me!"
She had finally managed to get on his nerves— He snapped.
"Fine! You wanna go this way? Okay then. You, Ámbar, are too arrogant and blind to realize that all I want is what's best for you! And it's so damn tiring."
She scoffed. "What's best for me? How could you know what's best for me? Simón, please."
"I know! I know because I know you!" He yelled, trying to make her see reason. "I know that, deep down, you have this light—"
"Oh, don't start with that again!" She exclaimed in annoyance. "You make me sick with your life lessons. No one asked for your help, just let me be!"
Oh, to hell with reason!
"I can't let you be when one moment you act like you want me and the next you go after Benicio!" He screamed, giving free reign to his frustrations like a broken dam.
"You act one moment like you care and then you leave me alone!" She screamed back right at his face.
"BECAUSE YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME!"
"BECAUSE YOU MAKE ME MAD!"
"YOU DRIVE ME ABSOLUTELY CRAZY!"
Both were left breathing heavily from their screaming, their puffs of air the only sound that could be heard as they stared at each other hard.
Two seconds passed. Three. Four.
At the fifth they couldn't take it anymore.
They collided with a force that was almost bruising but they didn't care. Their mouths devoured each other in a hungry mess of lips, tongues and teeth. Simón's hands grabbed Ámbar face, pulling her as close as possible, and it still didn't feel like it was enough. He brought them to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and Ámbar's hands rose to his hair, tugging on it and running her nails down his scalp as he walked her backwards.
He pushed her against the first surface he found without even bothering to check what it was. It must have been some kind of shelf or something because he could hear objects falling to the floor when her back hit it, but it only faintly reached his ears because the sound of her moan as he grabbed her leg and hitched it at his hip drowned anything else.
Simón let go of her lips to kiss her neck, enjoying the taste of her skin and her sweet scent as his hand ran up and down her thigh. Ámbar shrugged her robe off her shoulders and slid her hands under his t-shirt urgently, roaming every inch of skin she could find. The feeling of her fingers on his body set him even more on fire and he grabbed her ass, pressing her against him. Ámbar whimpered and ground their hips together, drawing a groan from his throat.
"I'm so crazy for you," he said desperately against her neck, his warm breath making her shiver.
Ámbar moaned. "Show me."
Simón groaned and claimed her lips again. She only interrupted to pull his t-shirt up, which was already half-off from her hands anyway. Simón discarded it over his head and grabbed Ámbar by the back of her thighs, lifting her up, wrapping her legs around his hips. Ámbar held onto him eagerly, kissing him with fervor. Simón moved them forward, searching blindly with one hand for the edge of the couch until he found it. He placed one knee on top of it and laid Ámbar down underneath him, never breaking the kiss.
Their legs entwined with Simón's thigh between hers. Ámbar traced his shoulders and roamed his back as their tongues tangled together, and Simón got dizzy, lost in the heat and the overload of sensation. He leaned a forearm on the couch and slid his other hand under her nightdress, feeling her skin. He made his way up her body, following the curve of her side until he reached her breast and gave it a light squeeze.
Ámbar moaned and arched her back, urging him to touch her more. Simón circled her nipple with his thumb and leaned down to lick her neck, making her whimper. Her hips were twisting underneath him. Simón pinched her nipple and pressed his knee between her thighs.
"Simón!" Ámbar moaned loudly. She held onto his shoulders, nails digging in feverish skin as he kept licking and sucking on her neck, massaging her breast. The joined stimulation drove her so crazy she started rubbing herself against his thigh, shamelessly, fervently, letting out whines as she sought relief. She needed more.
She slid a hand down her chest, feeling the planes of his abdomen react to her touch, and brought it lower, under his shorts to wrap her palm around him.
Simón gasped, a choked sound as his muscles went taut. His hands gripped the cushion on either side of her as her hand started caressing him slowly, up and down and back again. He moaned, long and low, sparks of pleasure running all over his body. She ran her thumb through his tip, spreading the drops of desire that had gathered there. His lips parted with a surprised moan. His hips bucked.
Ámbar held him more firmly and stroked him with more purpose, picking up speed. Simón jerked his hips against her hand, chasing the euphoric sensations that drew incoherent sounds from his throat. The fact that it was her doing this to him, Ámbar, his Ámbar, destroyed his last shred of composure, flooded him with a desperation he had never felt.
He pulled Ámbar's hand away. He wouldn't last if she kept that up and he wanted more, he wanted everything. He held both of her hands on either side of her head and took in the vision of her underneath him. Flushed skin, lips slightly parted, golden hair all over the place, and eyes so dark with desire he could hardly see their blue. They were fixed on his like nothing else existed.
"If you don't want this, tell me now because I can't take it anymore," he said in a rushed, ragged voice. It almost sounded like he was in pain. In some way, he was.
Ámbar wrapped her legs around him.
"Don't stop," she panted, and Simón lunged forward, claiming her lips as if on them depended his survival.
Their hands pulled at each other's clothing, their desire canceling any sense of self-consciousness they could've had. Simón couldn't help but smother her chest with kisses once it was bare before him. Her breasts were perfect and contoured by freckles he was dying to memorize. Ámbar shivered and whined as his tongue stroked her nipples. She grabbed his ass and pulled him against her, conveying and pleading that she needed him now.
Simón pulled down her underwear and positioned himself at her entrance. Ámbar whimpered as he rubbed his tip over her exposed center, grazing her clit and coating himself with her wetness. She grabbed his shoulders, he held her hips, and then finally, finally, he entered her in one deep thrust.
The pleasure that hit their senses drew a moan from both.
Simón drowned his face on her neck, breathing hard, taking a moment. He had dreamed of this once or twice but, god, the real thing was better. Pulses of delight spread from his pelvis to the rest of his body. He'd never be the same now that he knew how it was to be inside her.
Ámbar rolled her hips, begging him to move, and Simón complied eagerly. He slid back, almost all the way, and thrust back in, as deep as he could go. The movement pushed a gasp out of Ámbar's mouth. The sound went straight between his legs. He repeated the action, again and again, until he was pounding into her and she was moaning uncontrollably. The pleasure in her voice only made him want to go harder. It was his new favorite sound.
Her nails were digging into his back as he moved, her hips bucking to meet his, thrust by thrust. Simón was gasping, grunting, and her name dropped from his lips too, over and over, because this was madness of the best kind. He could've screamed that he loved her— that was how far gone he was. She felt so incredibly good, melting hot, and their bodies made a wet sound every time they collided that turned him on even more. He could see every single one of Ámbar's expressions, how her face contorted in pleasure every time he hit the right spot. She looked so freaking beautiful. So irresistible. Her body shone with sweat.
Simón kissed her; he couldn't not to. Their lips met open-mouthed and their tongues swallowed each other's sounds as they lost their minds together. He let go of her lips and kissed her ear, her neck, her collarbone. She was arching her back and Simón couldn't stop himself from bringing one of her taut nipples into his mouth and suck.
Ámbar cried out. It was so loud that if they hadn't been in the storage room they would've woken up everyone, and he loved it. He did it a few more times, and then he replaced his mouth with his hand so he could look at her. Ámbar's breathing was coming out in pants. Simón was meeting more resistance every time he pushed inside her. She was close. He was too. He wanted to see her fall apart. He wanted to feel the moment her body spasmed with pleasure.
A few more thrusts and a pinch to her nipple and he got his wish.
Ámbar came with an arch of her back, crying out his name. Her walls pulsed around him and Simón groaned, feeling his release crash into him. He spilled inside her with a loud gasp, and he kept moving his hips erratically, milking as much pleasure as he could get, until he had given her all he had and he collapsed, spent.
They two laid there in a mess of limbs as they came down from their high, breathless and exhausted. Simón only had the strength to grab one of the blankets that were folded beside the couch and cover them from the cold of the night before closing his eyes. He felt Ámbar nestle against his chest, seeking his warmth and he passed his arm around her, needing her close too. They were sated, tired and filled with a peace they hadn't felt in months, so it took no time at all before they were both asleep.
-------------------------
Simón was having a very nice dream.
He felt warm, light, more at peace than in a very long time and—
"WHAT THE FUCK."
Simón jumped awake, sitting in bed and looking around in alarm. "What? What happened?"
He blinked at the sudden light that hit his eyes and saw Pedro standing at the door, gaping at him with his eyes wide open. Simón's groggy brain registered the big amount of furniture that surrounded him and slowly came to the realization that it wasn't, in fact, the door of his bedroom Pedro was standing at but the entrance of the storage room.
He looked down and found he wasn't in his bed either. He was on a couch, covered by a blanket, and by his side was Ámbar, also sitting and looking widely at Pedro as she covered her naked chest.
Ámbar.
Blanket.
Naked.
Storage.
PEDRO!
Simón's eyes flew open. "What are you doing here?!" He exclaimed, finally realizing the position he was in.
"What am I doing here?!" Pedro volleyed back, in utter disbelief that he had just asked that.
Simón stood up quickly. He had to do damage control before things got out of hand. Pedro grimaced instantly and hid his face behind his palms.
"OH MY GOD, COVER YOURSELF!"
"IF YOU DON'T WANNA SEE THEN TURN AROUND!" Simón yelled back as he grabbed his clothes from the floor. "And close the door while you're at it!"
Pedro did just that, turning his back to the couple and pulling the door shut so no one else could see the scene.
Simón put on his shorts and t-shirt in a hurry and frantically searched for his shoes. It wasn't until he slid them on that he turned to Ámbar. He slowed down. Her eyes were fixed on him; probably had been all that time.
He walked towards her and crouched next to the couch.
"Listen, I..." He started in a low voice, but he had to pause when he looked at her up close because she was disheveled and blushing and there were a thousand new images in his brain that hadn't been there before. Everything dawned on him like a ton of bricks and he didn't know what to say or what to do; he didn't know anything. "...I'll take care of him. You stay here and get dressed, okay?"
"Okay. But, Simón..." Her eyes searched his, holding a lot of emotions, asking for him to answer to any of those emotions, but he couldn't, not now.
"Later," he said, wishing that was enough for the time being. He leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her forehead before standing, because leaving without any kind of contact seemed wrong somehow.
He ran to the door and pulled Pedro outside with him before closing it, leaving Ámbar behind.
The bright sun rays hurt his eyes at first but he forced himself to keep walking until they were far enough from the storage room and mansion that there'd be no eavesdropping. He stood under the shade of a tree and finally let go of Pedro, turning around to face him.
"You mind explaining what that was?" His friend demanded immediately, pointing to the direction they had come from. Simón opened his mouth but Pedro continued before he could speak. "And if you tell me it's not what it looks like, I'm literally going to beat you with my drumsticks."
Simón dropped his hands at his sides, defeated. "Then there's nothing to explain."
Pedro snorted. "There's a lot to explain. You could start by why the storage room; it could've been literally anyone if it wasn't me."
"Please don't talk about this with anyone, Pedro, please," he hurried to implore. He didn't know what he would do if everyone found out. If the Valente found out...
"Of course not. It'll be safe with me, don't worry," Pedro vowed, with a look that told him that he got his back. Simón was visibly relieved. "But, I mean, I don't get it," he added, furrowing his brows, "wasn't she with Benicio?"
Simón froze. The ton of bricks fell down again, but worse. His very insides turned to concrete, his mouth to sand.
He clenched his fists and forced it to work, to accept, to admit. "She is."
"Then what the hell were you thinking?"
"I— I don't know," he stammered out. "One thing led to another and it just happened." At least that was how it felt. To be honest, he hadn't thought much. Not logically at least.
"Right, you just happened to fall on top of her naked, that happens a lot," Pedro replied with sarcasm.
Simón groaned in frustration. "No, of course not! It's just..." He closed his eyes and sighed before opening them again. "Okay, you know I like her, right?"
"Obviously," he stated as a matter of fact, even though he had never really said the words out loud. "But this much?"
He dropped his gaze. "... I only told Luna this," he confessed, "but I actually don't just like her, I'm in love with her."
Pedro's eyes widened slightly. For a moment, he only looked at him in silence, surely processing in his mind everything that that implied. "And why only Luna?" He said in the end. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because when I told her she told me exactly what you guys have been telling me," he said dejectedly. "That I need to forget about her, that she's only going to hurt me... And I know you're concerned, but I can't help this, Pedro, I really can't."
Right at that moment, he saw Ámbar walking rapidly towards the mansion, wrapped in her robe. His eyes followed her until she went inside. Pedro turned around to see what he was looking at.
"Well, clearly," he said, having found the object of his attention. He turned back to him, and he must have seen something in his expression because all specks of judgment disappeared from his eyes, replaced by something sad, something too akin to pity. "But Simón... She's with someone else."
The jab Simón felt in his heart was so tangible he almost had the impulse to bring a hand to his chest to cover the wound, try and stop the bleeding.
"I know," he said, and it crossed his mind that he had never seen so much hurt contained in two words. "I know— I didn't plan for this to happen, I swear. Do you think I like the idea that after tonight she's just going to go back to his arms as if nothing happened? Of course not!"
"So you want to be with her?"
For some reason, that question caught him by surprise. It was the logical conclusion one could draw from his situation, right? He didn't want her to be with Benicio, therefore, he wanted her to be with him instead. But just as it was as simple as that, it also wasn't.
"... I don't know," he said. "I love her. But she hasn't been acting like herself. She's still adamant on acting bad and going against the Roller and... God, this was a mistake," he said distressed. "I shouldn't have done this. Not now, not like this."
He slumped against the tree's bark, suddenly assaulted by an almost claustrophobic feeling even though he was right in the open. What was he going to do now?
It was almost as if Pedro had heard his thoughts. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, buddy," he said solemnly. "I'm here for you, always, but only you can decide that, and I hope you choose well."
Simón looked at the grass between his feet. He wished for the same, but considering the last decisions he'd taken, he was starting to doubt he was capable of it. Because if 'choosing well' meant being away from Ámbar... a big part of him wanted to choose wrong.
"And about your timing," Pedro added, "yeah, we just arrived at the mansion. You really waste no time," he pointed out, both amazed and amused.
Simón gave him a look. "Not funny, Pedro." If anything it came to show just how reliable his self-control was. Which was, not at all.
For a moment, neither said anything, both immersed in their own thoughts.
"You know what is funny though?" Pedro said suddenly, breaking the silence. "That Ámbar is now the new manager of the Jam & Roller."
Simón blinked at him. "So?"
"So... you slept with your boss."
Pedro gave him two pity pats on the shoulder before making his way back to the mansion.
Simón stood rooted on the spot.
... Shit.
...
..
.
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Don't you just love when a character says that he'll never do something and then he does? Because I do 😂
Hope you liked this, especially that scene *cough cough* (hope it wasn't too much).
Random fact: While I was writing this I listened to "Besos en guerra" by Morat and Juanes a LOT of times. You don't need to hear it but if you want to you can check it out on youtube.
Anyway, see you next chapter!
(Edited: 21/12/20) (Edited AGAIN on 04/12/22 because Jesus christ, I did NOT know what I was doing)