The rain absolutely refused to let up, much like yesterday. A two day downpour in summer was rare, but a two day downpour in Southern California was exceedingly rare. Ana and I spent the day lazing around, knowing that dinner was the only thing on the schedule.
Ana had lit a few candles around the living room before Camila arrived. She'd been quiet most of the afternoon, but focused, like she had something on her mind. I thought about my phone, but I didn't ask. I didn't need to ask because she didn't. I figured it was better to assume Ana saw nothing, than to pressure her and instantly out myself as guilty. Camila entered our home at around six, a smile on her pretty face and her body draped in a heavy raincoat. We introduced ourselves again, but Camila was eager to get cooking as soon as possible.
That left me with getting the wine from the basement.
Camila was standing in the kitchen when I came back with the wine, humming to herself as she stirred something on the stove. She looked good. Her phenomenal, shapely figure wrapped in a tight deep red dress that clung to her body and shone when the light hit it just right.
"You let Ana do all the work, huh?" Camila teased.
"She doesn't exactly let me in the kitchen when she's serious about something."
"I don't bite." Camila said with a smirk, holding up the spoon like a shield.
"Understood." I nodded.
We exchanged a few more words and whether you believe me or not, we weren't flirting. Ana stepped in, just to watch. She didn't say much, her eyes more reading our movements than adding to our conversation. When dinner was finished and all the plates were cleared, we wound up in the living room. Camila sat across from me on the end of the couch, legs crossed with a casual swing in her foot.
"So... Esposo... What'd you do before you met Ana?" Camila asked, taking a little sip of wine with a grin.
"Working. Doing as much as I could to break into the industry. Depressed." I shrugged.
"Depressed?" Camila asked, her eyebrows raising slightly.
"I mean I was young, broke, and had no friends. Who wouldn't be?" I asked.
"But then you met my lovely Ana. She's a lifesaver, isn't she?" Camila chuckled.
"Oh yeah. I met her. Then I got a big break thanks to her... then my life changed."
"She's magnetic. Always has been." Camila grinned.
I looked over at Ana, lounging in the seldom used corner chair. She had her legs tucked underneath her, sipping her wine like this was just any other night. But I could tell she was tuned in to every word.
"That's one word for her," I said. Ana said so much with just a glance. Camila leaned forward slightly. Her eyes were warmer now, just a touch of wine-softened glow in them.
"How long's it been?" she asked.
"Jeez... uh..." I paused. "We met in 2014 when I was driving cabs. Four years."
"That's impressive." Camila said, a slight hint of envy in her voice.
"We make it work." I said.
"It's open, right?" Camila asked.
I paused. Not because it was a secret, I just didn't know where the question was going.
"We're honest. We trust each other." Ana said.
I felt the weight of her words settle over the room. Not heavy, just enough to notice.
"That's rare." Camila said slowly, another tip of the glass to her lips as she relaxed deeper into the couch. Ana hadn't moved, just sipping in silence.
The rain was still falling hard, thunder booming across the sky and keeping us trapped indoors. Camila was still talking, something about Italy, I think, a trip she took last year with some friends, but I found myself drifting. Not from boredom. Just something else tugging at the edges of my attention.
Ana. I desperately wanted to know if she saw what I thought she saw yesterday. If she did, I wanted to know what she said. I'd seen my phone since then, but I always kept my 'show messages read' option off. Now I was deeply regretting it.
She hadn't said much since dinner. Not more than a few comments, a half-smile here and there. She sat across the room like she wasn't part of the conversation but didn't need to be. She twirled her wine around in her hand, deep in thought. I caught her watching me. I could tell she wasn't angry. But she wasn't exactly overjoyed either.
I shifted in my seat a little, suddenly more aware of how I was sitting. More aware of the space between me and Camila. Her laughs were still easy, friendly and innocent, but I felt her heat radiating off of me. Ana took another sip, her eyes lowering just slightly before meeting mine again.
Camila stood to refill her glass, brushing past me with a soft "excuse me." She smelled like vanilla and peaches. I watched her move toward the kitchen, her wide, womanly hips swaying beneath the expensive satin. I looked back at Ana.
"Go for it, papi... I know you want her." Ana said.
"Isn't this more your forte, love?" I asked.
"Sure. Doesn't mean you can't do it without me." Ana grinned.
Camila came back to the kitchen with a full glass, her body rocking back and forth to a gentle rhythm she was humming to herself.
"I almost poured it into a coffee mug," she said, grinning. "Couldn't find the stupid cabinet."
She flopped back into her spot. Her legs sprawled a little more causing her dress to shift higher along her caramel thighs. She didn't bother adjusting it. Maybe she didn't notice. Or maybe she didn't care.
"You're so quiet..." Camila smirked, her true accent seeping through.
"I usually get sleepy when I eat good food." I said, patting my stomach. It was very apparent to me and clearly funny to Ana that I was struggling.
"Mmmhh thanks for the compliment. I knew I had to whip up a family recipe for such a special occasion." Camila said.
Ana didn't move. She was like a statue, the only movement coming from her occasional sip. Camila tucked her legs beneath her and curled into the cushion beside me, even closer than before. Her thigh grazed mine and she didn't pull away. Just smiled and took another sip. Camila was glowing, not just from the wine, but from the mood. The rain, the candles, the warmth of the room. The energy Ana created without a word.
"I don't usually drink this much," Camila laughed to herself. "But this feels... nice."
"It does," I said, loosening up just the right way. It was the weight of Ana's gaze combined with Camila's provocative body.
"You're cute when you're tipsy." Ana smirked.
"I'm not tipsy." Camila lied.