In the pale, early morning light, Kim’s pastel, unicorn-colored hair ventures every which way on my bare chest. While her multicolored strands contrast with her natural beauty, the combination makes her even more irresistible, because finally her outside reflects her bright, cheerful inside. And there’s something about the contrast between her rawness and the polish of the dye that’s interesting and new. I keep staring. I want to capture her on paper. Capture this new part of her that she’s showing to the world.

I’ve lain still for a few minutes, trying not to wake her, but marveling that she’s here. Warm. Naked. Cuddly as a kitten—or as my little rabbit. I keep touching her elbow, her knee, her shoulder.

When she finally stirs and lifts her head up, those marbled eyes catch mine, and she gives me a sleepy smile. I nuzzle the top of her head with my nose as she gives me a squeeze.

“Amor.” I clear my throat and try again. “Good morning.”

She yawns and blinks, and her voice is husky with sleep. “I thought this was a dream.”

“No. Not a dream.” Fumbling for the water bottle on the bedside table, I drink some and offer it to her. “Thirsty?”

Moving so she’s off my chest and curled up against my side, she snuggles under my arm. “Thirsty for what?”

“Oh, my insatiable amor.” I chuckle and tighten my arms around her. “Want some water?”

“No. Maybe later.” She tucks back into me and slides her knee up my leg.

The room gets brighter as morning passes and the sun rises higher in the sky. We’ll have to go to school today, but it’s too comfortable to move right now. If we leave, we’ll break the spell. I understand now why people want to bottle up moments forever.

Her fingers walk their way down my arm, and she lightly strokes up and down. For a while, we just listen to each other breathe, enjoying being together.

The barriers between us have broken down, and it’s absolutely exquisite. My thoughts and musings stay in this room, loving this moment and reveling in our closeness at last. We’re more connected than we’ve ever been.

After a while, when she finally talks, her voice stays in a whisper, keeping the quiet, sensual morning just for us. “I feel so right in your arms.” Kim drops an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder, which makes my very tired dick pay attention. There’s no way I’d complain about the very best way of exhausting my body, though.

“I agree. When I first met you, I thought you’d been handcrafted by God to my particular specifications and delivered just to me.”

“You did?”

“I did. It’s like I ordered you online, custom-made.”

Her arms tighten around me and now she kisses my lips. The kiss turns wetter, deeper, and soon she’s on top and straddling me again.

“What are you thinking about, conejo?”

Catching sight of her hair across her face, she plays with a tendril. “I never, not in a hundred years, thought I’d ever dye my hair. My dad always praised ‘the natural look.’ But this feels like it’s me. I’m expressing myself. I absolutely love it!”

Taking another strand, I poke at her cheek with it and lightly kiss her mouth. The view of her straddling me with those perfect breasts and pearlescent skin and candy-colored hair is a vision from a comic book of my life. “I love it, too.”

She wiggles on top of me. “I’m thinking about piercing things.”

I raise an eyebrow and brush her sides with my palms, enjoying her shimmery, soft skin. “Which things.”

Her eyes look around the room. She shrugs. “I don’t know, but it might be fun. I want to think about it. Maybe my nose. Or a nipple. I don’t have to do it, but even allowing myself to think about it feels naughty. It’s something I’ve never considered before.”

Unable to help myself, my hand makes its way to her plush, heavy breast and her nipple. “Joder. If this were pierced …” She has to feel my dick lengthening behind her, poking her ass.

She leans into my hand. My other hand plays with her other breast, now feeling her up on both sides. Sliding down my body, she lowers herself so she’s laying on top of me, and she kisses me. My hands, needing to touch her, now cup her glorious culo, wanting yet again to get inside her.

Against my jaw, she’s still talking. “I could get a tattoo. What do you think of that?”

“I think you should do what you like. It’s none of my business,” I say.

Her eyes fly open, and she sits up a little, then nods vigorously. “You’re right. And I love that you say that. I guess I always want to please someone else. And I want you to be pleased.”

“I think anything you did would please me, Kim. Wear what pleases you, and I will delight in your pleasure. Do what you like, and I’ll appreciate it day and night.”

She’s just right there, right by my cock. If I moved her down a little bit, we could have another session. Like the other three we had last night. I’m thinking about the shower, especially.

But a cold feeling comes over me as I realize something. “Amor?”

“Tavo.”

“Are you on the pill?”

She shakes her head, and her finger stills and presses to her lips. “No. Ohmigod.” Her skin becomes so light it’s translucent, and her cheeks burn. Her breathing is shallow. “I didn’t even think about it. I guess because I never really did it with Shane. We’d used a condom, but it was so infrequent, like twice, and we didn’t need to think about birth control.” She covers her mouth. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Tavo. I shouldn’t talk about another man in your bed. How could I be so stupid?”

I’m watching her, seeing her react from shock to panic to perhaps acceptance, and for a moment I fantasize of her belly full of my baby. How beautiful that would be. How proud I’d be.

That doesn’t matter, though. Right now, she’s my only focus. “You’re not stupid, amor. I wasn’t thinking about it either. I got carried away.”

“Carried away four times!”

“We should have had a talk before I ravaged you. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you.”

She bites her lip and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m clean. I always use condoms. I have never not used one before. I just got overwhelmed with you.”

Tears form in the corner of her eyes.

“Kim, mi amor. What do you want? I can take you to the farmacia. I think there’s a morning-after pill. We can find resources. Whatever you need. I’m fine with whatever you decide.”

Kim whispers, “I want to take the pill.”

“Okay. We’ll go today. I’ll take care of you.”

“There’s a lot to take care of.” She rolls off me and sits up straight, her eyes locking on mine. “For starters, how do I get back to my room?”

I get a funny feeling in my gut. “What do you mean? I walk you back.”

“I don’t want your mom to yell at you again.”

Oh. “She won’t.”

“She might if she sees me coming out of here looking like this. Or if one of your brothers tells her. Or if your aunt or someone else does. I’ll have to sneak back.”

What does this mean? Is she embarrassed to be with me? I struggle to sit up and, once I’m up, I pull her into my lap. “I don’t want you to sneak. I’m proud of you. I’m proud to be with you, and I don’t care who knows it. We don’t need to hide our feelings for each other.”

“Yeah, but I might not be ready to do that.” She sighs. “Can’t we just stay in bed all day instead? I never ditch class, but I want to.”

“All day sounds like heaven, but school and taking care of you is more important today.”

A crack has come into our cozy world this morning. I don’t want to let anyone in, because no one else needs to be part of this relationship. It’s just me and Kim and that’s it.

But the real world exists. She and I have a lot to deal with, and she may not be ready to face other people right now. She’s made a huge change in a short period of time.

“I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide, but I’m not going to push you. Why don’t we clean up, and I walk you back to the house? We can walk through the orchard, if you like, as if we were on an early morning walk.”

Her grateful eyes tell me that’s the right thing to do. Or at least what she needs right now.

I continue, “I don’t want to keep you a secret, but I’m okay with letting this just be us for a while. We don’t need anyone else’s approval. They don’t have to know.”

After she gets dressed in her clothes from last night and smooths her hair, we go the long way to the house through the huerta. I can tell she wants to hold my hand, but doesn’t. When we get to her room, I kiss her so hard she gets thrill-bumps on her arms. When we break apart, breathless and nervous that we’re going to get caught, I touch her nose and tell her, “I’ll take you to school in an hour.”

“And the pharmacy?” Her shaking hands betray her nerves.

“Yes, amor. That too.”

“Tavo, Tavo! Check it out! ¡Qué coño!”

Antonio trumpets from down the hallway at a volume level that could be heard over the fanatic vuvuzela-loving crowd of a fútbol game.

While the lack of sleep last night was worth it, after yet another shower, I’m still trying to wake up. I’ve spent the last half hour in the kitchen nursing my third coffee and waiting for Kim to finish getting ready to go to class.

Guillermo comes racing in, and I almost don’t recognize him. Instead of his usual long, straight hair in a ponytail—like a miniature Jason Momoa or a dark-haired David Beckham—he’s now cut it all off. It’s shaved on the sides and long on top and he looks—

“Ludicrous.” Antonio crows, skidding in behind him. “Can you believe this guy? Who is he trying to kid?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. It looks fine to me.”

“He thinks he’s some sort of fashion model. He’s gonna be internet-famous, he thinks.”

Guillermo’s kicking at the floor, his hands gripped into fists.

“I think he will be famous, ‘cause he looks great. Leave him alone, Antonio. You’re being mean.”

My youngest brother shoots me a grateful look. “Yeah? You like the cut, Gustavo?”

“Yeah. You’ve cleaned up. It’s good.”

“Gracias,” he says. With the way he says it, he tells me how much he looks up to me, and how much he seeks my approval. I’ll give it to him, but he doesn’t need my approval any more than Kim needs the approval of her parents.

Speaking of which, she walks in, wearing dark jeans, a ruffly pink shirt, and her colorful dyed hair. She pulls at her hair and pats it back behind her ear.

Everyone stares.

“Guess I’m not the only one to change my hair,” Guillermo mutters in Spanish.

“Good morning,” she says, tentatively.

Antonio walks over to her and extends his hand to pat her head. I want to chop it off. Maybe I’m wrong about him. “This, Kim, is incredible. When did you do this?”

“Dani did it. Do you like it?”

“I do,” he says, with a wide grin.

“Antonio,” I call in Spanish, my voice sharp. “Stay away from her, or I’ll castrate you like a bull.”

He bursts out laughing. “Jealous much?”

“I’ve told you before—”

And this time Guillermo’s the one looking at me in support. Normally he’s the little rat, but the positions have switched. “Back off, Antonio,” he says in Spanish. Then he turns to Kim. “I like your color, it looks good.”

“Guess we both needed a change,” she says shyly.

“¿Lista?” I ask, getting up from the table and grabbing my keys and wallet.

“Yes, I’m ready.” Kim walks over to me, and I open the door of the kitchen for her.

Who should be standing there? Sonia and my mother.

Sonia’s eyes light up when she sees me, then narrow to slits upon seeing Kim. Kim picks at her lips and looks between me and Sonia. My mother’s expression is one of being repulsed by Kim’s hair color and angry with me. But thankfully, Guillermo distracts them.

“Morning, Madre,” he calls cheerfully. “Hola, Sonia,” he says cautiously.

They both focus on him with laser-like precision.

“Guillermo, I love your hair,” Sonia gushes. “You look so guapo. ¡Qué guay!”

His chest puffs out like a chicken.

“Basta,” says Antonio. “I’ve had enough of this hair salon. I’m gonna go to class. Give me a ride, Tavo?”

I don’t want to give him a ride today because I don’t want him knowing that I’m taking Kim to the pharmacy. Kim and I exchange glances.

“Sure, you can come with us.” I turn to Kim and whisper, “We’ll go to the pharmacy after we drop him off.”

She nods, but gives me a worried look. Her hand almost unconsciously goes over her belly.

Fuck. Yes. I need to take care of her. I don’t want her to worry about the future.

Over my shoulder, I hear Madre talking to Guillermo, telling him how much she loves his hair and Sonia complimenting him as well. Maybe soon I’ll only have to worry about Kim and myself.

That would be a relief.

But before I can go anywhere, my mother comes outside, calling, “Tavo. Ven aquí.”

Her thunderous face is ready to use the rack on me, and Kim’s face opens wide. “Go wait, I’ll talk to her and meet you at the car.”

She nods and walks off, while my mother approaches. “Tavo. Listen to me clearly. I am going to tell Sonia that you need some time. That once this estadounidense leaves, you’ll have her out of your system and will come back and marry her.”

Shaking my head violently, I say, “Madre. I told Sonia in no uncertain terms that I’m not marrying her.”

My mother’s mouth drops open, and she clutches her chest.

I continue, “I cannot marry her. I don’t even like her.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“I am listening to me.”

“You are being ruled by your penis.”

I cringe. “Madre.”

“No. I know you, son. I know you are full of feeling and you want something that you cannot have. You’re just like your father. It’s in your bloodstream and in your bones. You are Spanish to the core. You need to get this out of your system? Fine. I give you my blessing. For a while. But when you are done, you come back and look at Sonia again.”

When we get to the city of Granada, we drop Antonio off at his campus (the Universidad de Granada has five separate schools spread throughout the city, and he’s at the engineering school) and park at the translation school, then head for the nearest pharmacy. Kim holds my hand tight. She’s pale and nervous. I squeeze her hand, trying to communicate that no matter what, I’ll take care of her, but I don’t think she’ll relax until this is over. Thankfully there’s a pharmacy on practically every block, lit up with the green plus sign, so we don’t have to walk far.

When we approach the counter, passing display after display of cellulite cream, the crisp, white-smocked pharmacist, a woman in her late twenties, doesn’t bat an eye when I ask her in Spanish for the morning-after pill. “Sí, EllaONE,” she says briskly.

“Do we need a prescription?” I ask. I’ve never had to do this before.

“No. Not in Spain.” She heads back to get it. Kim sags into me in relief.

“Thank you, Tavo. I didn’t know the phrase in Spanish for it.”

When the pharmacist returns, she counsels us that the sooner Kim takes it, the better, since its effectiveness diminishes the longer we wait. Since it’s been more than twelve hours since I first sunk into her, it’s not complete protection, but it’s the best we can do. I also buy a ton of condoms, and we stop by the Spanish health center to make an appointment to see a doctor about getting on the pill. They give Kim a pregnancy test to take before coming in for her appointment. She eyes the box like it’s a plague-ridden rat and puts it in her bag.

“How come it’s so easy to get the pill in a Catholic country?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I guess we’re practical.” I take a closer look at her face. “Kim, can I do anything else for you? What do you need?”

She shoves her hands in her jeans. “I’m okay. I’m just beating myself up, I guess. Because I’m normally very responsible.”

“This is being responsible.”

“Yeah, but … I guess I’ve taken some steps beyond my comfort zone.”

My heart drops. “I did not mean to push you. I will never—”

“Not you, Tavo. I loved every second of last night. I guess in the morning light, things look different.” She sighs and stares down the street. “I have to take care of some stuff.”

I take a guess. “Like your boyfriend.”

She nods. “I don’t consider him my boyfriend.” Her eyes draw mine. “I’m not in love with him. At all. But he’s a friend, and I respect him. I told him I don’t want to marry him. It’s driving me crazy that he’s not responding to my messages.”

The jealous beast roars within my heart, wanting to rip out through my chest. I don’t want her to have ties to anyone else. Thank God she’s taken off that ring, finally. But we do need to get this all straightened out. And I need to tell Sonia, yet again, to quit it. She keeps hanging around, and I don’t want her to think she has any chance.

Because when I look into Kim’s eyes, I’m a goner. I’ll do anything to keep her.

I only hope she feels the same.

While we sit in the middle of class, I surreptitiously rip a piece of paper in half and scribble a note, passing it to Kim under the desk.

---

Do you like me?

Yes

No

---

She stifles a smile with her hand and straightens her face, not giving me a clue. Even worse, she pretends to think about it, tipping her head to the side and tapping her pen to her tongue. After way too long, she hunches down to write.

But she’s not just writing a simple “x.” Why is she writing so much? Does this require such a long explanation? It’s just a yes or no question!

Folding it up, her eyes on the professor at the front of the room, she passes it back to me under the desk.

---

Do you like me?

Yes X!!!

No

---

Want to make out after class?

Yes

No

---

Oh, now it’s on. I scribble a note back to her and add a question, again passing it under the desk. When she opens it up, she gulps, then checks the box and passes it back.

---

Do you like me?

Yes X!!!

No

---

Want to make out after class?

Yes xxx

No

---

Will you wear handcuffs?

Yes

No X (but you can use those ribbons)

---

She’s grinning down at her desk. The professor calls on me, and I have no idea what he asked.

Joder.

“What’s your next tattoo going to be?”

The four of us, Trent, Dani, Kim, and me, are sprawled at a table at Bar Marueco after class, enjoying the late afternoon. In her short time here, Kim’s come a long way—from not knowing what tapas were to, this time, when I asked her what she wanted, ending up ordering plates for the whole table on her own. Taking care of getting her own tinto de verano—wine with lemon-lime soda—makes her even sexier than before because she’s being assertive and asking for what she wants. Especially when she wants to be tied up with ribbons. Fuck, that’s a fantastic mental image.

And it might come true. I take a sip of my Alhambra lager.

Dani answers Kim’s question. “I’m not totally sure what design I want next. Trent and I were talking about getting something to honor my brother who passed away. I was actually thinking a bowl of cereal and a spoon. No one would understand why I had cereal tattooed on my side, but tattoos aren’t meant for anyone else to understand but the person who gets it. They don’t require explanation.”

“Degan was mad about cereal since he was a kid,” Trent says. “So it makes sense. I want to get a new tat also, but I don’t know what.” He pulls up his T-shirt sleeve, and both Kim and Dani react to his biceps with an intake of breath. Bastard. He’s so oblivious. “Something to honor Degan as well. Maybe his dog tags. And something for Dani.”

Reaching for a ring of fried calamari, dredging it in brava sauce, and popping it in her mouth, Kim smiles. “I love that. I was thinking about getting a tattoo, but I don’t know what.”

Trent nods and drinks his San Miguel beer. “Well, what do you like?”

“Before I came here, I wouldn’t have been able to answer that. Or I would have asked for everyone else’s opinion first. Now? I’m not totally sure, but I know I’ve always thought dragonflies were really pretty.”

I’m picturing a dragonfly tattoo on Kim. It would look muy linda on her. There’s a pen on a table, and I start drawing on a napkin.

Dani claps with delight. “Oh, I love dragonflies. They’re the symbol of transformation.”

Kim sets down her tinto de verano. “Really?”

“Yeah! In about every country—or so I’ve heard—they symbolize change.”

“Wow! That’s so appropriate for my life right now.”

“Here. I’ll show you.” Dani pulls out her phone, does a quick search, and reads, “The dragonfly is the symbol of clarity, emotional and mental maturity, transformation, self-realization, illumination, adaptability, and wisdom.”

“It’s so perfect,” Kim whispers. “I love it!” She sees what I’ve drawn. “That’s it!” She takes the napkin and slips it in her bag.

I nod in agreement, but this is Kim’s decision to make. Almost unconsciously, I begin tracing my drawing of a dragonfly on the back of her hand. It is perfect.

“Where are you two traveling next,” I ask Trent. Dani’s quite the globetrotter, and I always want to hear about where they go.

“Not sure. Dani’s racked up so many frequent flier miles, we can pretty much go anywhere at any time. But we’re pretty happy here.”

“Yeah.” Dani nods. “I like knowing I can leave at a moment’s notice, but I don’t need to now.” She and Trent exchange a look. “If you two ever want to escape, let me know. I can have all of us flying for free.”

“Thanks,” I say, and my mind starts drifting. Taking Kim to the United States. Going with her to London. Being with her always.

“It feels like I’m traveling just being here,” Kim says. I smile, forgetting this is all still new to her. “I know there’s so much more. I wonder if there’s a job I can do where I get paid to travel.”

“There’s a ton. Flight attendant, for starters.” Trent grins.

“Yeah, but I'd like to stay put for a while. Like the way those stores do pop-ups for a few weeks or months. But I don’t know what I’d sell.”

Dani gestures for the waiter to bring her another sangria. “What do you like to do?”

“Cook.”

“So be a pop-up chef. Or run a food truck.”

“I need to learn a lot more before I do that.” Kim’s waving her arms as if she’s pushing it away.

I think it’s perfect for her.