A few days after our Fourth of July encounter, Lupe and I are back to being the best of buddies. So much so that she’s been on a mission to help me get more work.

Maybe that’s her way to make amends. I let her run with it. I do feel a little bad about keeping my kiss with Esteban a secret, but I don’t want her mad at me again after I’d promised her we wouldn’t rush things. If I think about Esteban’s kiss the other night, I’m surprised we were able to stop at all. He kissed me again when we got to my apartment. Twice. Actually, three times, and each time was better than the last. With my back pressed against the wall in the courtyard and his body flush with mine, I could have kissed him for another two hours. Feeling him hard against me was no help, either. I was moments away from pulling him by his shirt upstairs.

Determined to act like a gentleman, he regretfully left after kissing me on the bridge of my nose. Letting go of him was nothing short of torture.

Needless to say, I’ve replayed his kisses on a loop in my head. I’ve been in an Esteban-daze for days, but I know that around his sister I need to snap out of my daydream…if I don’t want to risk compromising things.

On the business front, Lupe convinced me to get business cards to display on the counter in her store, advertising my services. She also persuaded me to hit up a few more establishments around Old Town to let them know I’m available for website design, graphics, logos, or general re-branding.

She talked about redoing the logo for their restaurants, and I stop her before she calls Esteban, telling her there was nothing wrong with the current logo.

I lied. The logo for El Chile Verde is a bit outdated, in that classic, old-fashioned way, but from what I witnessed personally and the reviews I read online the chain doesn’t need any help with advertising or rebranding.

I didn’t want Lupe to call Esteban, even though I haven’t seen him since the Fourth of July.

I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself if he comes around, and we agreed to keep things low-key. At least for the time being.

We exchanged numbers and have texted on and off. He wanted to make plans but warned me he has a couple of busy weeks and might not follow through. I had to wonder if this was his way of taking things slow. He gave me a taste of his lips, and now he was letting me simmer. I felt like a pot full of hot, spicy green chili stew. If this was his way to get me worked up, it was working. I knew if I saw him again right away we would have moved entirely too fast. But even so, there’s no way to tell how long I’ll be able to hold back when I finally see him again.

It’s puzzling the magnetic force with which I’m attracted to the beautiful, mysterious local. Every day that goes by, I grow more and more restless with thoughts of him. I’ve been thinking only and exclusively about Esteban when I should have been more preoccupied with the dissolution of my marriage. What am I doing?

I wanted to stay here to get some distance from everything, not look for trouble, or even worse, an affair. As much as I try, it seems I can’t control my thoughts or my dreams because all I’m able to do is fantasize about when I’ll see him again. I can’t shake the memory of his mouth on mine, and I swear the memory is so vivid, I can almost taste it in my dreams.

The dreams are varied, and they range from romantic to filthy. I sometimes dream of him telling me we’re destined for each other. In the dream, it’s usually the two of us against the gorgeous backdrop of a purple and blue Albuquerque sunset, his hands cradling my cheeks and my hair blowing like I have wind machines at my disposal a-la Beyoncé. The filthy dreams are, well…filthy. Most of the filthy versions are of the two of us, naked in my bed, in a variety of positions. Or on the armchair. Or on the desk. Or on the counter in Lupe’s store.

Esteban’s kisses have done a number on me. I’ve woken up several times with my body quivering, nipples hard. Flashes of my dirty, dirty dreams about Esteban appear before my eyes. I dream of his mouth on mine, his eyes roaming my skin like a hungry animal, his hands exploring my body. I dream of the most glorious of orgasms and I’m pretty sure I wake up one morning mumbling his name like I’ve just come…in my dream. The proof is all over my underwear. It’s a good thing I haven’t seen him around, because with the amount of x-rated dreams I’ve had, I might pounce on him the next time we meet.

Like I said, I’m restless. Restless to see him, even though there’s a part of me that tells me I shouldn’t even think of him.

I’ve never been this boy crazy in my life, and it makes no sense.

He did apologize for being too busy and not being able to make solid plans. On the other hand, that sounds like an excuse, and I honestly don’t know what to think. Maybe I should have asked Lupe to call him about rebranding the logo for the restaurants after all, just to see if he’d come around then, but I killed that chance.

For some reason, if I have to see him, I want to run into him on my terms. What if he regrets kissing me? What if he realized he shouldn’t be shacking up with a married woman?

As days go by and my restlessness becomes unbearable, I resort to stupid, juvenile tactics, and decide to casually drop by his workplace. I ride my bicycle by the restaurant where I first met him, and they tell me he hasn’t been around at all, which sounds weird, since he’s been so busy with work. I glance at the table where I sat that night, and it’s like a million years have passed. The events of that night still hurt, but part of me has made peace with it. I’m not the same person anymore, and I’m working toward a happier version of me.

But back to Esteban. Where is he? I don’t want to ask Lupe now that we’re getting along again. If I start talking about him, I’m afraid I’ll let it slip that we kissed, and I don’t know how she’ll react to that. She’s a little more trusting toward me after our argument, but I sense that she still expects me to pack up my stuff and move back to California at a moment’s notice.

In the end, I suck it up and ask Lupe, “How’s Esteban? I haven’t seen him since the fireworks on Fourth of July!” I try to sound casual and nonchalant.

“Really? You haven’t seen him at all? I know he’s been busy with work. He has a lot going on right now.” She shrugs, arching one eyebrow.

As the days go by, and Esteban’s texts become fewer and farther between, I panic. I’m an idiot. What if he has someone else? What if he rekindled things with that ex-girlfriend Lupe was talking about?

“You said Esteban had gotten out of a relationship recently. Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?” I flat-out ask Lupe at the next chance I get, unable to phrase it any other way.

“You sure are curious about him, aren’t you?”

“What’s so strange about me asking questions about him?” I shrug. “He’s the only person I know here, other than you and your family. And he’s been so nice to me. You should have seen him when he ran off the asshat that’s soon to be my future ex-husband.”

“I bet. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that. Are you sure nothing happened between you two?” Lupe laughs, the smile reaching her eyes.

“Nope. Nothing at all,” I tell her in a clipped tone, hoping I’m believable enough.

“I have to admit, by now I thought he’d be sneaking out of your apartment in the morning,” she says, and her words send a flash of heat up to my cheeks. No, not at all, Lupe. Not yet at least. Hence my frustration.

I start tracing circles on the wooden counter, thinking about how best to phrase what I want to ask her next. “Since you’re aware that your brother and I like-like each other,” I say waggling my eyebrows, “you should tell me all about him, don’t you think?”

She laughs, and the smile reaches her eyes.

“Good heavens, I’ve never seen you this flustered. You really do like him, don’t you?” I nod, looking down. “Okay, ask me what you want to know. I won’t get into details, because I believe that’s my brother’s job. But if I can shed some light on him, I’ll do that.”

“Are you sure that Esteban doesn’t have anyone special?”

“No, he doesn’t. I mentioned to you that he’d gotten out of a complicated relationship. It was one of those on-and-off things that went on for years. They weren’t right for each other. I don’t think they ever were. They finally broke it off a couple of months back.”

“So...that was in May?”

She frowns, thinking. “Yeah, I think so.” She reads me like a book. Did Esteban break up before or after I arrived in town? That is a silly, albeit a very important question. “Yeah, it might have been after you got here, now that I think about it,” Lupe tells me, saving me from the embarrassment of asking her.

I can’t contain the smile stretching across my face and I purse my lips together, nodding. She smiles back, and once again it reaches her eyes, making her look almost giddy with excitement. Her usually dark and calculating gaze looks bright and amused, as if she’s dying to tell me everything there is to know about her little brother.

“And you don’t think there’s the chance he’s seeing anyone new?” My tone is tense and impatient.

“Not that I know of. I know my brother likes you. Why would he do that? He’s many things, but a player he’s not.”

“I just want to make sure he’s not avoiding me. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

“I can’t speak for him, but I don’t see why he would do that. He seems pretty taken with you. This is just an extraordinarily busy time for him. Give him a little time. I’m sure that he’ll come by as soon as he can.”

While I wait to hear back from Esteban, I shamefully cyber-stalk the guy to get more info on him, but besides the website and Facebook page for the two locations of El Chile Verde, I haven’t found a personal profile. No Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, not even an old MySpace page.

Nothing.

He’s a mystery, and I realize I don’t know that much about him other than he’s kind, gorgeous, and has that broody, quiet intensity that makes women swoon. Sure, he kisses like it’s his full-time job and he has a good head on his shoulders, running a business on his own. Lupe told me she’s not involved with the restaurants at all. She simply doesn’t have the time. Their parents are traveling and the two of them run the family businesses full-time.

I’m so obsessed with wanting to know more about him that sometimes I wonder if there isn’t really something wrong with me…maybe he did put a spell on me with his kisses. Why else would I be so impatient to hear from the guy? How else can I explain the pull toward him, when I’ve met him just a few times?

I need to be patient.

I’m Jon Snow. I know nothing, but maybe, in time, I would figure out why I’m so attracted to him to begin with.