The Beach Club

7. Alvaro

     I was so close to sharing a kiss with Poppy, but her fucking need to be sensible ruined my attempt at the last minute. Fuck, this girl is infuriating. It's never been this hard to taste the lips of a girl around here; they're usually gagging for it.

But I know Poppy is not like those girls, even if she is making me more and more frustrated the longer the night plays on. Still, I have the patience for her. Poppy is special and is worth the wait, just not long enough that I lose her before she leaves the country to go back to England. From what she told me earlier on in the night, I have seven days to make this fucking work. Or God forbid I will have failed massively.

     I give Diego the eye that tells him to stop being so fucking greedy with that Zara girl. We have time here and I don't want him scaring off Poppy. The more she thinks he's merely a sexual predator, the less likely it'll be that the girls return to this club. And I need them to come back. Every night if they damn wish. Diego clicks his tongue and backs off a little bit, much to Zara's disappointment.

     I look back to Poppy and notice the way her body gets ever so slightly looser with each sip of drink she takes. It's good. She's slowly learning to let go. It's okay though, it's only the first night. I have more time. If she comes back, she'll be more relaxed. I guess it's not uncommon for some girls to be anxious on their first night, but most of them use it to set the scene for the rest of their holiday.

I grab myself a beer from the bar fridge and catch Poppy's eyes on me from across the bar. As I swig the beverage, I'm sure to push my lips into a smile. At this very moment, there's a connection between the both of us. I know Poppy can feel it too, because she leans her head in her hand and smiles back, her eyes twinkling against the light of the moon. Her lipstick is mostly worn off by now, but her lips look full and perfect. I go to move closer but Zara beats me to it. She has Poppy by the hand and before I can even set my beer down on the side, she and Poppy are already on the dancefloor.

I sigh just as Diego swings his body over the counter and grabs a beer for himself.

     "Beuna atrapada," he says coyly, sending a wink my way. He means, good catch.

     I nod as I take another swig of beer. "I hope you're referring to Poppy," I bite. "Because that Zara chick is nothing to be proud over, you know. She is collateral damage and you know it."

     Diego sniggers under his breath. "She'll be a good fuck at most. Shit money. Poppy on the other hand, now you're talking."

    For some reason the way Diego talks about Poppy makes me fucking blind with rage. Poppy is my find. In fact, they both are. Diego should be kissing my damn feet. If he so much as try to lay a hand on Poppy I won't be held accountable for my actions. And he knows all too well how bad my temper can be.

     I roll my shoulders and chug the rest of my beer. I'm angry at myself too; I've never been defensive over a girl like I have with Poppy. And it's only been one night. What the hell is it about that girl? This is only business. The first rule our uncle told us is that you can never make it personal. There can never be emotions attached to any of it. And I've never gotten even close to breaking this rule before.

But now Poppy is in the picture and something in me has changed.