Punished (Calavera Hotels #1)

Chapter Eleven Mireya

“You were sleepwalking again last night,” Alma says. I decided to catch a ride with her early to work. I could hang out at Thalia’s before I started my shift.

“Was it bad?” I ask. I’ve had sleep problems since my dad passed away. I slept a lot during the first few months. I would have vivid dreams of him, and in my distress, the dreams were all I had to look forward to. My mother’s solution to the problem was to slap me every time she caught me walking around the house, crying for him. She had me see a doctor, but his best remedy for the problem was lowering my caffeine intake, monitoring my stress levels, and avoiding alcohol before bed. All of which are not happening anytime soon with the shit going on in my life.

“Well, you were eating all the gansitos from the freezer and…” she pauses, and I watch as she tries to think .

“And what? Just tell me, Alma!” I hope I hadn’t attacked her again. She was too sweet to tell me if I had. The first time she and Thalia found me sleepwalking, Thalia tried to wake me up and I attacked her.

“You were asking Adrian to fuck you,” she whispers, as if someone could hear her through the car. I throw my hands into my face as I lean back into the seat and groan.

“Sex dreams are absolutely normal.” In typical Alma fashion, she tries to comfort me. I’m grateful I share an apartment with Alma and not Thalia. Had it been Thalia, I’m positive I would have been recorded and mocked for years on end.

“Maybe you are just sexually frustrated?” That is an understatement. More like I am sexually depriving myself. I hadn’t even touched a vibrator in the last year. I even thought about asking Doctor Aguilar to prescribe me something for my libido, but I am too embarrassed to bring it up. Yet, ever since Adrian came back, it’s like my libido was miraculously resurrected. The day he pushed against me, the rough way he grabbed my wrist, and the quick looks I would steal when he was around. The other day, I had to call him to unclog the women’s bathroom in the lobby. I was turned on watching him plunge a toilet, for Christ’s sake.

I’ve had several sex dreams since he returned. I would wake up wet, with the smell of arousal on my fingers, like I had been masturbating. God, I hope I wasn’t masturbating in front of Alma. I had read about sleep walkers developing sexsomnia, but I also read it was more common for men. I didn’t think anything of it, much less that it would affect me.

“What am I going to do?” Alma’s resolution is to hook me up with one of the other maid’s brothers. She’s starting the long list of all his good qualities and their entire family history.

“What did you say his name was?” I might need to take her up on the offer. At this point, I needed to get Adrian out of my mind. By June, I could quit my job and never see him again.

“Osvaldo.” The name sounds beautiful in her Spanish accent. It would never sound like that coming from me and my broken Spanglish. Another of my many insecurities.

“Wait, isn’t that Oswald in English?”

“Ya. I think so.”

“Alma, I can’t date a guy named Oswald. The name Oswald makes me think of Benjamin Button as an old man baby. I wouldn’t be able to look at the man without thinking about him aging backward on me and having to hold him like Cate Blanchett at the end of the movie.” It’s shallow and petty, but this is usually why I didn’t date to begin with. I always find one thing that makes me dislike the person. I joined Chispa once, and there were plenty of attractive men on there, but I would find one thing wrong and block them. Alma sighs and turns up the music. I’m a lost cause.

When we get to the hotel, I make my way up to Thalia’s apartment just as Olivia is rushing out the door.

“Hey! Oh my god. I’m so glad you’re here. Can you watch the kids for a few hours when Thalia leaves? Beatriz is sick.” Beatriz was Do?a Clara’s daughter, who usually watches the kids. They are good kids, so I am content with helping out.

“Yes! I got you!” I yell down the hallway and watch her get in the elevator.

Thalia is cleaning the kitchen when I let myself in.

“You should have been here yesterday. Adrian came over for breakfast,” she singsongs Adrian’s name, like a childlike taunt.

“You guys are having morning brunches now?” I say, half annoyed about my lack of sleep and half jealous I wasn’t invited.

“?No seas celosa! I got chisme for you!”

I stare at her. I am not jealous. The less time I spend around Adrian, the better. I have enough problems with my self-diagnosed sexsomnia. I am curious what juicy details she had about him, though.

“What’s the tea?”

Her eyes light up with her signature sly smile. I usually do my best to avoid any forms of gossip, due to my mother traumatizing me with hers. However, if Thalia has information on Adrian, it could be beneficial to my overstimulated ovaries. If I’m lucky, it will be something revolting to me, like the many men I found on the Chispa dating app. My shallow mindset would attach itself to that one revolting thing, and in return, my libido would go back to its resting state.

“I guess Osiel, of all people, helped him make an Instagram profile. He put his username as BigDickAdrian.” My cheeks flush. Adrian’s dick was absolutely the last thing I needed to be thinking about. Let alone its size.

“He had no idea, and neta, he begged me to help him change it. So, being the amazing big sister that I am, I helped him.” She waves her hand. Thalia often went off subject or exaggerated stories. I was afraid another hour would pass by before she got to the main point.

“Anyways, that’s not the point. Dude, you’ll never guess the first name that came up in his search history.” She pauses for dramatic effect.

“It was you!” she screams like an over-pepped cheerleader.

“Really? So, he obviously remembers me. You should have asked him why he was pretending not to know me. And then ask him why he just glares at me every day. I can’t tell if he wants to kill me or fuck me.”

“Oooh!” she exclaims. “Maybe he wants to do both.” Then she laughs when she sees the horror on my face. I wouldn’t be surprised if Thalia spent her free time reading erotic horror or visiting fetish clubs. There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell her about my sexsomnia problem now. It’s bad enough Alma had to witness it.

“Maybe this is how we become sisters for real.”

Heat rushes up my face at the thought, and I’m thankful when Lucia barges in and asks if she can do my makeup. Unable to say no to her cute little face, I say yes and figure I’ll wash it off before my shift starts. Thalia leaves to her office and I make the kids lunch. Luca is extra cuddly today and I fall asleep on the couch with him.

When my phone alarm goes off, I still feel tired, but I hear Olivia in the shower and the twins are still napping, so I slip out and make my way down the elevator. The lady next to me in the elevator doesn’t stop staring at me, and it’s making me nervous, so I rush out into the lobby. I need to get my uniform from Alma’s car before she leaves for the day. I’m halfway through the main lobby when I see Adrian on a ladder, hanging a banner. He is looking at me again, but more puzzled than his regular glare. Having enough of this walking on eggshells bullshit, I decide today, of all days, to be brave.

“What the hell are you staring at, Adrian?”

A smirk draws on his face and he gives me no response as he climbs down the ladder. He’s wearing a white wifebeater, his muscular frame on full display. There is little left to my imagination as I stare at the outline of his abs through the thin material. The view will likely result in more wet dreams. I’m frustrated and still a little grumpy from my nap. When he reaches the bottom of the ladder, he still has that puzzled look on his face. Anger builds in me.

“I don’t know what your problem is, Adrian, or what games you’re playing with me. If you want to act like you don’t remember me, fine! But if you have something you need to get off your chest, then just say it instead of giving me dirty looks every day!”

He moves into me, and my breathing picks up as he shortens the distance between us. I can already feel the heat between us. My heart pounds as he pushes my hair behind my ear. The touch a jolt of electricity to my core. He lowers his lips to my ear, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m staring because you look like a fucking clown.”

I pull back. Confused and angry. A clown? He grabs the ladder to leave and just as I go to tell him to fuck off, I catch my reflection in the lobby mirror. My hands shoot up in embarrassment as I remember letting Lucia do my makeup. I run to the parking lot and jump in the passenger seat and pull the visor down to get a closer look at the dramatic workings of a six-year-old upon my face. I groan as I see the bright pink and purple eyeshadow, bright orange blush, and the clown-red lipstick that completes the look. It doesn’t help matters that when I fell asleep, I smeared most of the lipstick up my cheek. I wonder how much it would cost to change my identity and move to another country.