Chapter 3 - Martin

 Chapter 3 - Martin 

“Come on, Siri…” Martin gently rocked Sirina’s shoulder back and forth, trying to rouse her. It was 4 AM, and he had already gotten dressed for the flight and started brewing a pot of coffee. 

“Hrnnngh…” Sirina squeezed her eyes and rolled over, still deep in the trenches of REM. 

“Nope, nope, not today.” Martin shook just a little harder. “Come on, dormilona, you’re getting up.” 

“Graaah.” 

“Graaah, yourself. We have a flight to catch! And you need to brush your teeth. Your breath is horrible in the morning.” 

“Hrrrn…” Sirina finally sat up in bed and opened one eye, the other still firmly shut. “…it’s time?”

Martin nodded. “Our flight’s in an hour and a half.” 

“Fuck!” Sirina jolted, scrambling to disentangle her legs from the covers. “Okay, I’ll be ready in ten.”

Martin chuckled. “That’s why I let you sleep in. You don’t mind looking sloppy in the mornings.” 

Sirina shot him a look and murmured something under her breath. Martin hummed cheerfully. 

“A little privacy?” Sirina asked, her arms crossed in front of her stomach, waiting for Martin to leave before lifting her tank top. Martin acquiesced, closing the guest room door behind him. Sirina threw off her top and stuffed it haphazardly into her suitcase before liberally applying deodorant (nobody liked sitting on a plane with someone who smelled like rancid sweat). She pulled a comfortable, loose sports bra over her chest and throwing on one of her old running shirts. She then swapped out her underwear and stepped into a pair of colorful exercise leggings. She took her morning pills and ran a generous palmful of argan oil over her tangled, frizzy waves, roughly brushing them down until they stopped sticking out from her head at every other angle. Lastly, she removed yesterday’s makeup from her face with a cucumber-scented wipe, opting to go bare-faced while flying. She simply rubbed a bit of moisturizer over her cheeks and chin and some Vasoline on her lips. 

“Okay,” Sirina emerged into the kitchen, rolling her suitcase behind her. “I’m ready.” 

Martin appraised her, eyebrows raised. He looked as unfairly good as ever, though tired- the dark circles that normally only whispered underneath his eyes were practically purple bruises. Still, his chestnut skin was radiant, and the thin Killers t-shirt he wore revealed the toned expanse of his slim core. He sipped coffee from an Ironman mug, looking at Sirina over the rim of both the mug and his glasses.

“What?” She asked, slightly annoyed at the scrutiny. She was a bit testy with people like Martin when she was this exhausted. 

He chuckled. “Sorry, I spaced out. I was just going to say that I forgot how you look without makeup.” 

“I go without makeup almost every day.” 

“Yeah, but almost never without mascara.” 

Sirina sighed. “I know…I look sick without it.” 

“I was going to say pretty.” Martin smiled softly. “You have beautiful skin. I like that you don’t cover those freckles. And those pale eyelashes are very unique.”

“Oh.” Sirina looked down, blushing. “Uh, thanks, Martin.” 

He handed her a cup of coffee, cream and sugar already stirred in. “We have a few more minutes. I can put your stuff in the car while you drink this.” 

Sirina laughed. “You’re being so sweet. It’s suspicious.” 

“Maybe I’m happy,” Martin quirked a smile, “Glad that I have a friend to go with on this trip. I haven’t traveled with someone in too long.”

“I…I really should thank you, more than I have. It means a lot that you’re taking me on this trip, Martin. I really need it. Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure. Now drink that, so we can head on out.” Martin grabbed Sirina’s suitcase to bring out to his Prius. 

Sirina loved the way Martin made coffee- he used an irresistible cafe de olla blend that she adored. She blew on her cup and sipped. “Mmm…” She drank the rest quickly, even though she wished she could savor it, before hand-washing and drying the mug (this one with the Green Lantern) and placing it back in Martin’s cupboard. 

“So tidy,” Martin teased. Sirina jumped, not having heard him come back. 

“Well, I didn’t want it sitting in your dishwasher for a week.”

“Thank you. Shall we?” 

Sirina nodded, walking over to the doorway to put on her sandals. “Vamos.” 

“Ahh, mira a tí, speaking Spanish.” Martin winked. “The boys in Mexico will go crazy over you. Don’t leave me alone too much, though.” 

“Hey, keep the chips and salsa coming, and I will never leave your side.” 

Martin laughed. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

…

The two groggily shuffled into the Bob Hope Airport, luggage in tow, and made their way through security clearance. Once they’d arrived at their gate, they still had 30 minutes to burn before boarding, and so the two sprung for warm, overpriced coffee. 

“I can expense this,” Martin noted, handing over his credit card. 

“I should at least get us coffee…”

“You’re paying for rent in Glendale. Save every penny.”

“You’re spoiling me, Martin. I feel like a kept woman,” Sirina teased. 

“Believe me, Siri, nobody could contain you.”  Martin smirked. “It’s one of your more admirable traits.” 

“‘More admirable?’ I feel like I should object.” 

Martin grinned, the sight somehow not so annoying to Sirina as it often was when he was being a shit. “It just means you have other aspects I admire even more.” 

Sirina blushed. What was going on between them? Martin had always been a flirt, but his flirting was generally innuendos and cheesy one-liners, more jokes than anything else. This felt more personal, somehow. 

They boarded, business class. This was the first time Sirina had flown in anything other than economy, because seriously, who can afford to travel, otherwise? She and Martin settled into their spacious seats, and Sirina wiggled her feet in the ample legroom. Oh, yeah. This was the life. 

“This is amazing,” Sirina sighed. “So this is how the other half lives, huh?”

“/This/? Sirina, this is business class.” 

Siri rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I forget that you grew up rich.”

“Not /rich/…”

“Your family had a house in Half Moon Bay. I’d call that rich.”

Martin blushed, almost self-consciously. “Well…it wasn’t a mansion or anything.” 

Sirina rolled her eyes. “My dad was a lab manager, my mom a teacher, and we still rented in Glendale.”

Martin shrugged. “That’s LA. I rent my townhouse.” 

“Yeah, but you live alone. I share a bathroom with /Aharon/ of all people.” Martin shuddered at the thought. 

“Isn’t that…I dunno, weird?”

Sirina shrugged. “Aharon is like a brother to me at this point. He was my first friend at UC Pismo*, and I was his first friend here in America.”

“I remember that you two were always very close. I’m surprised nothing happened between you.” 

Sirina could barely suppress a gag. “Like I said, /brother/. Aharon looks normal, but my attraction to him is less than nothing. The feeling is definitely mutual. Besides, he’s even sassier than you are.”

Martin quirked a smile. “Sounds like I need to take back my title.” 

The flight attendants made their rounds, advising everyone to prepare for takeoff. Martin opened the window shade (Sirina had asked for the aisle, since she needed to pee constantly), and the two watched as the Sierra Pelona mountains became ripples in the distance. After a moment, Martin turned to Sirina. 

“Wanna toast our first vacation together with champagne?”

“First vacation together?” Sirina grinned. “Will there be more?” 

Martin shrugged, his cheeks flushing tawny. “That depends, I suppose.”

“Hmm, on what?”

“On whether you’re still single the next time I have a business trip.” 

Sirina chuckled. “We’ll have to see. Maybe I’ll still be single, but you won’t be.” 

Martin laughed. “Oh, I doubt that very much.” 

When a flight attendant came by, Martin placed an order for two flutes of champagne. Sirina had talked him out of a full bottle. 

“I don’t want you to have to carry me to our taxi.” 

Once the fizzy flutes and cheese plate arrived, Martin tipped the attendant and raised his glass. 

“What should we toast to?”

Sirina pondered this, chewing her lip. She took toasting /very/ seriously, something which Martin indulged her in. 

Finally, she had something. “To second chances.” Martin startled, his eyes wide, but he quickly recovered. He tapped his glass gently against Sirina’s. He knew precisely what she meant. 

Martin had cut Sirina off shortly after their breakup, telling her that they couldn’t talk anymore at all. They initially had wanted to remain friends. After this happened, they didn’t talk for two years. Then, one day, he reached out again. They’d been friends ever since, though there was a tension, and unspoken reserve, even as they settled into a familiar, platonic closeness. 

“Yes. To second chances.” 

Two two sipped, still looking at one another over the rims. It was awkward, and it made Sirina cough, choking on the sour wine. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, coughing once more into a napkin to get it out of her system. 

Martin patted her back, gently coaxing Sirina’s recovery. He rubbed it, and his touch soothed Siri more than she cared to admit. His slender, delicate fingers felt delicious, so close to the nape of her neck…She wanted to lean in, but she stopped herself. This was Martin, her incorrigible flirt of an ex. This meant nothing to him. She couldn’t let it mean anything to her, either. 

The two downed their glasses, trying to put the awkward toast behind them. Sirina pulled out her headphones. “Wanna listen to sone music with me?”

Martin smiled. “What’s on deck?”

“Depends whether we wanna sleep on this flight or not.”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Mmm.” Sirina smiled. “My classical playlist should do nicely, then.”

Martin snorted, though it was good-natured rather than dismissive. “Only you would have a classical playlist.”

“Has my taste in music ever let you down before?”

Martin nodded. “You have a point. Okay, gimme.” They both leaned back against their headrests, moody Beethoven lulling them to sleep…

Sirina roused from her sleep as the flight attendants started to prepare everyone for the descent. Martin’s head was on her shoulder, and he was snoring soundly. Sirina smiled at the sight- he looked so innocent, and Martin /never/ looked innocent. 

“Excuse me, Miss?” The flight attendant addressed Sirina. “Would you and your partner please put your trays in the upright position?” 

Sirina was too embarrassed to correct her. “Oh, of course, sorry!” She locked up her and Martin’s trays. The movement stirred him. 

“Hn?” Martin opened one eye, squinting. “We’re…landing?” He shifted upright so that he was no longer leaning on Sirina. She realized, in spite of herself, that she missed the feel of him. 

“Almost there.” Sirina grinned, giggling. “I’m getting excited!” 

Martin chuckled. “It’s not every day you’re whisked away to a tropical paradise, huh? I’m excited, too. Even if my family live in Veracruz and Monterey…Cabo really is my favorite.” 

The plane lurched as it began to make its downward climb, and Sirina swung to the left- now she was flush against Martin’s shoulder. She gripped his thigh tightly- an involuntary response- to steady herself. His skin flushed a deep purple. He recomposed and leaned over to whisper in Sirina’s ear. 

“Naughty girl…at least wait until we get to the room.” 

Sirina flushed, her hand flying back to her own lap. “You’re the worst,” she murmured. Martin laughed heartily. 

“Oh, it’s too easy to make you blush. This will be a fun week.” 

…

One hour-long taxi-ride through Baja California Sur’s foothills, and Sirina and Martin had arrived to the luxurious resort. Nestled in the cliffs overlooking Playa del Amor, Tuscan-inspired villas broke the lush growth of pink and purple bougainvilleas and squat cacti. 

“Wow,” Sirina breathed, her eyes wide behind a pair of prescription Gucci shades (she brought her very best for this trip). The bright, midday sun warmed her face, but it was immediately cooled by a refreshing breeze. 

Martin tipped the driver, and both thanked him before grabbing their luggage from the trunk. Martin told some joke in Spanish, and the driver laughed heartily before waving goodbye. 

“What did you say?” Sirina asked, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. 

Martin shrugged, a playful smile on his face. “He asked if you were my girlfriend. I told him you were just here to keep me out of trouble.” 

Sirina laughed. “Damn straight! Okay, chavo, where’s check-in? I’d kill for some water.” 

Martin pointed a short distance uphill. “Should be there.”

“Hm, have you been here before?”

Martin grinned. “Will you think I’m a spoiled boy if I say ‘yes’?”

“No more so than I already do.” Sirina stuck her tongue out, and Martin tickled her. 

“Pelirojita, you’re so very cruel. First you pounce on me like a panther one the plane, and now this?”

“You *wish* I was pouncing on you, flaquito.” 

Martin grinned, winking. “I sure do.” 

“Ugh…”

The two entered the marble-floored, open-air lobby. A doorman handed Sirina a glass of water, poured from a golden tap infused with mint and cucumber. She gratefully accepted it, thanking him and handing over a small handful of dollars (Martin told her that tips were preferred in American currency). 

“Mister Martín Caballero,” a beautiful, tall woman with glossy black hair and golden skin greeted Martin from behind the front desk. She wore a smart, purple blazer and a long string of shiny pearls, and she was utterly glamorous. Sirina was embarrassed to admit that she felt a twinge of jealousy- how close were Martin and this woman? “Ah, and you’ve brought a guest!” She continued, speaking perfect English with a lilting accent. 

“Hello,” Sirina greeted shyly, extending her hand and smiling. The woman beamed, shaking it, the sparkly crystal bracelets jangling on her wrist. “Encantado. Soy Sirina, y Ud.?”

“Oh, no need for formality or Spanish! I’m Alicia. I’m Martin’s second cousin.” 

Sirina suddenly felt very silly for her bout of jealousy. This woman was family. “It’s really nice to meet you, Alicia! This resort is gorgeous.” 

“You and Martín are going to have a /great/ time. If you ever want to go out clubbing, you know my number, Flaco. I know the hottest spots, and the three of us will have a blast.” 

“That sounds really fun,” Sirina grinned. “Whenever you’re free, I’d love that.” 

Martin cracked up, hugging his cousin. “Watch out. Alicia goes *hard* when she parties.” 

“Oh, I’ll go easy for Sirina’s sake! Martín tells me you’re a lightweight,” Alicia teased good-naturedly. Sirina laughed.

“He’d be very right. Martin told you about me?” She looked over at the man beside her, who glanced down at his shoes.” 

“Of course! Oh, you should have heard him when you two dated. He went on and on about the firecracker redhead he was with, and how cute he thought you were. We all were very much hoping to meet you at the reunion…” Alicia trailed off, realizing her blunder. “Sorry, that was…anyway, I’m happy to see you both are still friends!” She laughed nervously. “And I’m here to help you have the most incredible trip. I know this is both work and play for Martín here, but Sirina, if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Sirina smiled. She could already tell that she liked Alicia. Anyone with such candor (and anyone who could make Martin blush) was good in her book. “Thank you so much, Alicia. I’d love that. We’ll have to swap stories about Martin over drinks.” 

“Will you two stop?” Martin teased, though his blush showed just how embarrassed he was. Sirina and Alicia both cracked up. “And actually, Alicia, we’d love to know- if we were to go somewhere nice for dinner tonight…?”

The two continued to chat, with Alicia pointing out restaurants both within the resort and dotting the coastline. Sirina sipped at her water, processing Alicia’s words. Had Martin really told all of his extended family that he wanted Sirina to come to the reunion? They’d planned to go together, but Sirina never knew it went that far. 

Finally, the two cousins hugged, allowing Alicia to return to her post as the concierge. Martin gently rested his hand on Sirina’s upper back, rousing her from her thoughts. 

“Ready to see our Villa? I think you’re gonna love it.” 

Sirina nodded, walking out towards a waiting golf-cart to be shuttled up the hillside. 

…

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Sirina laughed incredulously. “This isn’t just a villa, this is a freaking mansion! Like, one that a Russian oligarch would live in.” 

Martin grinned. “I may have upgraded the room.” 

Sirina’s eyes widened in shock. “Martin! I can’t afford to pay you back for that…”

He smiled to himself. “I don’t want you to. I have expensive tastes, so I did this for me. You’re just along for the ride.” He winked. 

“Hmm…” Sirina worried at the fabric of her shirt. “I feel bad.” 

“Take a look at the swimming pool outside. That’ll help you feel better.”

“Martin! I’m serious, I wish I could pay you back.” 

“Your company is more than enough.” Martin squeezed her hand, smiling tenderly. “Trust me. Plus, I wanted to get you your own room. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure to sleep in the same room as me.” 

Sirina couldn’t believe that she felt disappointed. “Oh…of course. That’s really sweet, Martin.” 

The two busily unpacked their luggage, Sirina sprawling her copious toiletries across the bathroom counter. She couldn’t believe she had her own bathroom, too! The rosy tiles, the expansive mirror, the waterfall shower and infinity jet bathtub…this was the most luxurious place she’d *ever* stayed. She found her plush, king-sized bed and fell back onto it, sinking into the fluffy sheets. Ohhh, yes. She could get used to this…

Martin chuckled from the doorway. “Getting cozy, rojita?”

“Martin,” Sirina rose from the bed and surprised him with a hug. She felt the rumble of his chest as he laughed, and she could smell his smoky cologne. She had to admit, both melted her. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

Martin patted her back gently, leaning into the embrace. “I’m glad you like it here. I always promised you a vacation.” 

Sirina pulled away, looking into Martin’s amber eyes. What was he saying? Rather, why did she think it meant anything? Martin was a flirt- there wasn’t some hidden meaning. 

“How does an early dinner sound? I’m pretty hungry…”

Sirina nodded. “That sounds great. How should I dress for dinner?”

“I have a place in mind. You look lovely in everything, but we should dress nice.”

Sirina nodded, pulling a long, purple and black halter dress from the closet. “Something like this? With heels?” 

“I think that would look beautiful,” Martin said quietly, his eyes lingering tenderly on Sirina. She cleared her throat. 

“I should probably get showered and dressed…”

Martin nodded. “Same here. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

Sirina rolled her eyes. “You said you were hungry.” He laughed in response.

“If I weren’t, it would be two!”

…

Author’s Note: You guys. You guys. I had *no* idea that Martin would capture my heart as much as he has. When I first started brainstorming for this story, to be completely honest, I viewed him as a fun, fluffy character. Not someone that I took very seriously. Ahh, but in writing him, his personality and backstory has started to unfold, and he’s stolen my heart! It must be his trademark charm. ;) I still have so much love for Julian and Arthur, but Martin is just way too much fun to write. I hope you guys adore him as much as I do. His brat energy is off the charts, and I love it.