Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
VALENTINA
FAITH: I’m coming over.
I stare at the text. Can I ignore her? Do I want to?
FAITH: I won’t take no for an answer.
Even with the knowledge that something happened between her and McCrae on Halloween still rattling in my subconscious like a dark storm cloud, I don’t want to push her away. Not really.
I miss her friendship—I miss her challenging me and demanding more.
ME: Bring tequila or don’t come.
FAITH: I like bossy V. She’s sexy.
I roll my eyes. Faith thinks she wants to be an explorer when it comes to her sexuality, but I don’t know if she really does. She can’t possibly understand the dark, complex world that follows—I’d love to protect her from it if at all possible.
I know more than enough for the both of us.
Instead of responding, I strip out of my jeans, throwing on a pair of work out shorts and a tank top.
Skipping the bra feels good—until I run into Santos as I exit my room, bumping into him chest first. I scramble backward, crossing my arms across my electrically charged nipples, as if that’ll protect me from the current zipping between us like static.
“Uh, where you headed?” He smirks, rubbing the back of his neck. The action causes his arm to bulge, the veins beneath the skin popping out in the sluttiest way. I want to sneer at him, tell him to mind his own damn business.
Or sink my teeth into his bicep hard enough to draw blood.
I shake my head—that’s certainly not productive thinking. He left me standing like a lonely fool at the Halloween party, and then, he had the audacity to demand I suck his cock without so much as an apology.
I can’t tell if we’re on talking terms or not. I can’t tell if I hate him or not.
What I do know is my body’s very sure how it feels about this beautiful man, and it’s certainly not disgust or disdain.
I rub my thighs together slightly, not even thinking about it until his eyes drop, drawn to the motion. What the fuck am I doing?
“Why’s that matter?” I snap.
His eyes narrow, but his grin grows into an expression befitting a heathen. He’s winning, and he knows it. “So I know where I should be going.”
I roll my eyes. Is he flirting with me? “Why’d you leave the other night?” The question slips out, and I instantly regret it. I hate that I sound as pathetic as I feel. Still, I can’t take it back, and secretly, I don’t want to.
Surprised, Santos’ smile falters. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
It’s the shittiest apology, and it’s certainly not enough. I wait.
He sighs, blowing a raspberry with his lips before looking down the hall in a clear desire to escape. “It wasn’t about you—I thought, er, everything after made that clear. I just saw, well—” He doesn’t look back at me.
Santos is full of secrets, that much is becoming more and more obvious. Normally, I’d run from someone with so much hidden, but with him, I don’t know. I’m not afraid—I’m curious. He seems capable of mischief, not destruction.
I pat his chest, flicking my hair over my shoulder before turning in the direction of the kitchen. “Your apology sucks. Try harder.”
I can hear his steps heavy behind me, but before he says anything else, the front door opens, and in sweeps the whirlwind that is Faith. “It’s windy out there!” She shucks her jacket into the corner, her shoes following—always making herself at home.
I love it.
For a split second, I contemplate bringing up McCrae, but the truth is, I don’t care enough. A kiss is harmless. I think.
Besides, what if I bring it up, and she gets defensive? I don’t want to lose her. Not for any reason.
“I’ll get the glasses.” She follows me into the kitchen, jumping up onto the counter to watch me. After a pointed silence, I face her. “What?”
“Are we going to talk about it?”
“Uh—”
“Are you ever going to fix things with Mateo and Dale?”
I stare at her, completely lost for words. “You’re not serious.”
Her thin brows draw together. “Extremely. I’d like to get drunk with all my friends at once.”
My heart stutters at her words. All her friends—she considers me one of them, regardless of what I’ve done and how I’ve acted. I try to swallow around the lump forming like a boulder in my throat. It feels impossible, and I turn away.
“I don’t know how.” It’s a small admission, but it feels huge as the words leave my lips.
“Reach out to Mateo—just start there. I’ll help however you need me to.” She extends the bottle of tequila to me, bumping the butt against my bicep, and I give her a tentative nod. “Now, I saw Santos sniffing after you when I first got here. Where’d he slink off to? Are you guys fucking yet?”
“Faith!” I chide, pouring more than a healthy amount into the first glass, the golden liquid swirling over the ice cube in the center.
“What? It’s happening—I know these things.”
I motion for her to follow me to the couch; I need to sit if we’re going to talk about this.
“How?”
“How what?” She takes a small sip of the tequila, coughing almost instantly. “God, you drink this shit straight?”
“You brought it,” I scoff in defense, taking a sip myself. I pride myself in being an experienced drinker—very little gets my eyes watering anymore.
But this poison? I cough too, wheezing as it burns its way down my throat.
“What is this?” I finally gasp.
Faith breaks into a fit of giggles, wrapping an arm around her middle. “I don’t know. I stole it.”
“You, what?”
She takes another sip, this one larger. Her eyes water as she looks at me. “I stole it. Felt like being dangerous this evening.”
“I don’t get you.”
“Don’t change the subject. Where’s the hottie with the body?”
I breathe into my glass. “Don’t let McCrae hear you.”
We both panic, our eyes glueing together as silent understanding passes between us. It’s clear by her reaction the kiss means more than nothing. Still, I can’t find it in me to be mad—at least not mad enough to lose her over it.
“Uh—”
I feel the familiar chill of panic begin to settle over my bones, its presence my oldest friend. But instead of leaning into it like I’ve always done, I shy away, more afraid of losing this real friend than I am of losing my dignity.
“Let’s just not,” I whisper, draining my tequila in a dramatic gulp, the burn in my stomach instant. Faith inhales, like she’s preparing for something more, but I stop her, switching lanes like the expert evader I am. “Can you teach me some basic self-defense moves?”
Faith’s mouth pops open and closed, her eyes glittering before she smirks. “You just want an excuse to touch Santos.”
“What’re you—”
“Santos, get in here!” she shouts, her grin growing devilish as she stands.
He appears instantly, almost as if he was standing just around the corner. I glare at her but don’t stop her as she motions him over. He comes willingly, but his eyes bore into the side of my face as he walks toward her.
I try to ignore him.
I fail.
“Great! Now grab V.”
“What?” We say the word in unison, and I don’t know why, but I stick my tongue out at him. His eyes sharpen, and I instantly cringe. Am I fucking a love sick child or what?
“V, when he grabs you, show me how you’d get him off.”
I sigh but face Santos, waving my hand in a come here motion. He moves slowly, almost prowling, until he’s only inches away. He leans forward, whispering in my ear, “If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask.”
“In your dreams.” I scoff.
“Every night.” It sounds like there’s sincerity in his voice. But that can’t be.
After several failed attempts at escaping his hold on my arms, my neck, my waist—I snap. “That’s enough.”
Faith crosses her arms, the apples of her cheeks rosy from the alcohol. “Don’t be a quitter.”
“I’m not,” I bite out. There’s not enough tequila in the world to reduce the sting of being as inadequate as I currently feel.
“It takes practice. You’re just learning.”
“I’ll never be able to protect myself. I shouldn’t even need to. McCrae’s job is to protect me.”
“What if he’s not always around?”
I feel the venom barreling to the tip of my tongue before I can stop it.
It’s what I do when I feel weak—what I’ve learned to do to protect myself.
The alcohol and buzz of adrenaline have done their job, blurring the lines of my painful and pitiful existence, my former insecurities rearing their ugly heads.
“You think he’s going to leave me for you, Faith? You think you’re that special? Please.”
I stomp off, tears already burning down my cheeks. The words are bitter, scorching me from the inside out, but I can’t take them back.
I can never take them back, so why even bother?