Today is the Fourth of July, which means I’ve been in Albuquerque about two months. The whole town has been celebrating for days. Last night I could hear fireworks going off in the distance, but I couldn't see them from my apartment. According to Lupe, I’ve missed a great firework show, which is why she insisted I come out tonight and meet her and her family at Old Town Plaza. Despite the heat, there have been bands playing on and off all day. It’s crowded with tourists and locals alike. I’ve only been out briefly today, but I had a deadline to meet.

The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite celebrations ever since I was a child, but I can’t deny that seeing everyone out and about with their families and friends has put me in a melancholic mood.

I've been fine on my own these last few weeks, but I can’t deny I have a pit in my stomach as I come down the stairs of my apartment.

I’m all festive in red, white, and blue. I look down at my red suede sandals—a new purchase from a local shoe craftsman Dolores introduced me to—and my knee-length, sleeveless blue dress with a wide skirt. My hair is tied in a low ponytail with a beautiful, white rose hair piece that Lupe gave me and I’m wearing gold pendant earrings that belonged to my mother.

When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, it reminded me of an old picture I’d seen of her. It made me happy and made me ache for her all over again. It’s been years, and I still miss her so much every day.

“Ay, que bonita!” Dolores yells from her window. I laugh and twirl for her, the skirt of my dress opening in a circle.

Dolores is my neighbor and most recent confidante. She’s in her seventies but is feisty like a twenty-year-old. She has as much spice and pizzazz as a chile pepper. She wasted no time introducing herself to me, and somehow she taught me and convinced me to play cards with her in the evening. Although she’s been retired for years, she does some seamstress work on the side.

“Come with me! Don’t let me go out there by myself!”

“I’m not ready, yet,” she replies. “I had to finish some alterations first.”

“It’s a holiday, Dolores!”

“Querida, you know how it is.” She shrugs.

“But you’re still coming out? I’m supposed to meet Lupe and her family, but I don’t want to be out there by myself.”

“I’ll come, I’ll come. Give me some time. I’ll meet you at the Plaza.”

When I reach the square, however, there are so many people that I have no idea how I’m going to find Lupe. I pull out my phone and text her.

The charming Old Town Plaza is even more festive than usual. There’s a band playing old-fashioned tunes on the gazebo, and part of the square has been turned into a dance floor of some sort. Many couples are dancing, while other people are standing around the perimeter. There are street food vendors and all kinds of activities. Across the street, to my left, I spot a face-painting and drawing station for children. A woman is painting the face of a little boy like a tiger. I scan the people in line, wondering if Lupe is around there somewhere with Vincent and Oliver, but I don’t see them.

My phone buzzes, and I read Lupe’s text.

 

Lupe: I had to go to the store because Oliver had to use the restroom. I must have missed you coming out.

 

Me: Okay. Let me know when you head back over here.

 

I sigh and try to enjoy the music. I see the owner of a café I go to several times a week and say hello to him and his wife.

Then, I spot him in the crowd, chatting with a group of friends.

Esteban Garcia, in the flesh.

I haven’t seen him since I spotted him at the YMCA. I’d hoped to run into him again, but it hasn’t happened. I think about the night we met, and an ache spreads in my chest thinking back to the time of my fight with Brad, the night I knew it was over. Esteban was so kind to me, and even though I was a mess and my emotions were all over the place, I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. I was a bit confused by my physical reaction to him that night…and the morning after. It was the strangest sensation. When I saw him at the pool I tried to go after him, and I hoped I’d run into him again…but I haven’t seen him at all. Now that I realize I might talk to him, my heart loses its cool completely and starts beating so loudly I need to exhale to calm myself down. Now that I know how good he looks when he's all put together, I'm even more disappointed that our paths haven't crossed at all in the last few weeks.

He’s wearing a button-down black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and straight-leg, fitted black dress pants. His hair is neatly gelled, and the sparkle in his emerald eyes is making me weak in the knees even from across the square. Two women are talking to him and his friends, and my stomach twists at the sight, at least until I realize that while one of the women is trying to get his attention, he seems distracted, looking around the place as if searching for someone. A queasy feeling spreads in my stomach, and I try to understand why I'm even reacting this way. He probably has a girlfriend or a significant other, and I have no business being jealous. I am nothing to him, and he's nothing more than a kind acquaintance to me. But just as I think that, a knot forms in my throat, as if I don't want my thoughts to be true. I don't know that much about him, but my brief interactions led me to think that there is so much more behind his gorgeous face.

I want to get to know him.

He seems to be a responsible, kind, beautiful man who is devoted to his family.

Any woman would be stupid to pass up the opportunity to get closer to him. His eyes continue to scan the crowd, but he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He looks down at the woman in front of him and smiles briefly, sending butterflies swarming my stomach.

A couple of people in front of me leave and I take a few steps forward, closer to the area designated as the dance floor. His eyes are still roaming around, and I wonder if he’s looking for Lupe as well. Seconds later, however, he sees me, and even from a distance I can see how his gaze changes into a look of surprise and I notice the slow smile stretching across his face. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and it spreads across my chest when I see him excuse himself and walk across the dance floor, heading toward me.  I smile back, even though my throat is parched, and my palms are a little sweaty. I wipe them off on the back of my dress.

I'm like a teenager at a school dance. Did anyone ever make me feel like this before? I don't remember having butterflies when Brad and I started dating.

He crosses the dance floor, dodging the couples dancing a few times. He smiles apologetically at them. I laugh, because he looks adorable. With every step that he takes toward me, my heart beats faster and faster, so loud and obnoxious that I feel it all the way up to my ears.

I don’t have time to check if my red lipstick is perfect, because his eyes are on me. When he reaches me, the serious, intense look is replaced by the most brilliant and endearing of smiles.

“Ines. It’s nice to see you here.”

I smile nervously. “You too, Esteban. How’ve you been?”

“Good. A little busy. I asked Lupe how you were doing.” Oh.

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?” I tease with a smile.

He shrugs, but his lips press together in a shy half pout and his expression is a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “I haven’t had time to come around, but I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

I can’t help it. My stomach flips and my heart takes off, beating like a maniac.

“I’m doing okay. I’m actually here to meet your sister—”

He interrupts me saying, “You look beautiful.”

His words make me blush, and I don’t miss his eyes scanning my body, taking in my outfit, all the way down to my red suede sandals.

The way his eyes widen, and his lips part slightly sets my chest on fire, and it spreads to my stomach. Once again, just the way he looks at me has me all out of sorts in the best possible way. Then he catches me looking at him, and straightens up, clearing his throat.

“Nice shoes,” he says with a grin.

“Thanks. Your sister hooked me up. She knows the best places in town.”

Rumbly, joyous laughter erupts from his chest. “That she does. By the way, how are you settling in? Still in love with the apartment?” he teases, arching one eyebrow, his voice loaded with humor.

I make a face. “What exactly are you hinting at?” I ask, and he lets out a laugh, his eyes bright with amusement. He puts his hands in his pockets, and relaxes, slouching his shoulders a little. “Is this your way of asking me if I’ve experienced any paranormal activity?” The sound of his laughter stirs something in my chest, a happy feeling I haven’t felt in so long. I don’t miss the looks I’m getting from the women he was talking to. Also, I just can’t miss the opportunity to tease him in return.

“Oh, yeah. I haven’t had a chance to tell you. There’s a ghost who visits me every night. I haven't been getting much sleep but all in all…I can’t really complain," I tell him with a knowing look, and his face falls immediately.

He looks pale, and I almost feel sorry I lied.

Almost.

“You’re joking,” he tells me, jaw taut, a panicked look in his eyes.

“Not so funny now, is it?” I quip and see him slowly regain the color that had gone amiss from his cheeks. His eyes sparkle like emeralds as he recovers, and the corner of his lips tilts into a grin that tells me he’ll make me pay for it.

I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea, if it entails certain things.

He points a finger at me and shakes his head in disbelief.

“That wasn’t funny, Ines.”

“That was very funny and you know it.”

“Alright. You got me. I’m going to stop teasing you now, okay?”

Oh, please don’t.

I shrug. “A little teasing never hurt anybody, am I right?”

He nods slowly, a small smile stretching across his face. His eyes linger on me, as if trying to read me. I felt bold a moment ago, but now that he’s staring at me with such intensity, I feel my cheeks redden and look down.

I thought he was dressed entirely in black, but now that he’s close, I notice that his long-sleeve shirt and pants are a dark blue instead. He’s so handsome, even more so than the two times I have seen him before. I’m not even counting the time I saw him at the pool, simply because Esteban with clothes can’t be compared to the glory of an almost-naked him.

“I have to say that this is the first time I’ve attended this kind of Fourth of July celebration. I must admit I prefer it to the usual, standard fireworks show. This is more…intimate.”

He glances appreciatively, nodding. “I agree. However, there’s still supposed to be a fireworks show…in about forty-five minutes.” He pulls his cell from his pocket to confirm the time.

A few people push through the crowd, bringing us closer, so much that I have to brace myself from falling, placing my hands on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, attempting to straighten up.

“Don’t,” he says, urgency in his voice and need in his gaze. He places one hand over mine, stopping it in place, right over his chest.

My breath catches in my throat as he drinks me in, and the people moving around push us closer together, our bodies almost flush. I feel the heat of his hand on mine, and my mind can’t help but fantasize about his soft and warm skin.

He leans forward, slowly, and I’m hypnotized by every single one his movements.

What is he doing?

“Would you like to dance?” he asks, bringing his other hand around my waist.

Ohhhh. My lips part, but I’m unable to say anything, enraptured by his closeness, his scent, his all-too-encompassing handsomeness. I nod, and with a hand around my waist and the other still holding mine over his heart, he steps backward, motioning me to come along with him on the dance floor.

If I thought my heart was beating faster before, it’s nothing compared to how it’s racing in my chest right now. My throat is so beyond parched, my skin feels red-hot. He places his hand on my lower back and takes my other hand in his. A shiver runs down my spine as I respond to our joined hands, feeling that same strange electricity of the night when I met him.

I break eye contact, confused, staring at his chest, but it doesn’t last long as I feel his magnetic gaze, almost as if he’s trying to peer into my soul.  I get over my nervousness and look up at him. It doesn’t take more than five seconds before I’m mesmerized by his face as we dance to a slow, old tune I’ve heard a million times before.

I feel like I’m in a trance.

He’s the shaman and I’m the proselyte.

Right now, I’m so enraptured by his presence, his nearness, I would agree to almost anything. I have a half idea to take him back to my apartment right this minute. I bring one of my hands up to his strong, muscular shoulder and let out an internal sigh as I feel the firmness of his body under my fingertips.

Something stirs in my belly. I feel like my body is desperate to communicate with every cell of my being at the awakening that it’s going through.

Yes, I get it. I have the hots for him. That was abundantly clear even without the reaction my body seems to have undergone. My panties are wet and I internally sigh, knowing I’m in deep trouble.

People leave, and more people join on the dance floor. The music ends and we stand still, but don’t leave. As soon as the next song starts, we are dancing again.

There are things I need to ask him. For example, I should probably confirm that he’s single. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to spoil the moment.

I’m not sure how long we dance, closer to each other than we’ve ever been, constantly stealing glances when not openly staring at one another.

Why do I have the feeling that I know this man, even though I really don’t know much about him? Questions take over my mind, and the tension in my chest becomes unbearable, so much so that I feel I’m moments away from firing all my questions at him. I open my mouth but close it again when Esteban speaks.

“There’s Lupe,” he says, distracting me from my rambling thoughts.