Chapter Six
Calvin
I looked up and felt my whole body tighten before I could stop it.
Ramos walked in first, wearing the same shirt from yesterday and a look that said he was neither happy nor unhappy to be here. Just present. Miguel followed close behind him, hands in his pockets, expression set in that way that always made me want to lock every door in a half-mile radius.
Great. My least favorite nightmare has decided to stop by my place of employment.
Heat from the dryers seemed to get worse. My mouth had gone dry. I set the spray bottle down carefully because dropping it would look dramatic, and I refused to give Miguel the satisfaction.
Niles straightened. His sunglasses slid down his nose a little as he looked between them and me.
Ramos lifted a hand. “Hey.”
There was no point pretending I hadn’t seen them. “What’s up?”
He walked up to the counter, stopping a normal person’s distance away.
Miguel did not. He drifted a little to the side, close enough that I caught the smell of cigarettes and whatever soap he’d used.
It was warm outside. He should not have smelled that put together.
Creepy people should at least smell villainous.
“Needed to find you,” Ramos said.
I folded my arms. Then I unfolded them because that looked defensive. Then I put my hands on the counter because, apparently, I had nowhere normal to store my body.
“At work,” I said. “Bold place to search.”
Ramos glanced around the laundromat. Mrs. Ortega was pretending not to watch while loading another dryer. Mrs. Hensley had gone still by the folding table, one hand pressed to a stack of pillowcases. Niles removed his sunglasses entirely now.
Ramos scratched his jaw. “Need a little cash.”
I blinked once. “Hello to you too.”
“I did say hey.”
“That wasn’t a greeting. That was throat clearing with eye contact.”
Miguel smiled slightly at that, which I hated. Ramos just looked tired.
“Mom’s not home,” Ramos said. “I’m hungry. We’ve got nothing there but mustard and old tortillas.”
“You ate like a locust yesterday.”
“I know. That’s why we’ve got nothing.”
I stared at him. Part of me wanted to tell him to get a job, get lost, get hit by a bus in a way that only bruised his ego.
Another part remembered he’d been out for barely any time and was standing here asking instead of taking.
That probably shouldn’t have impressed me, but life had dragged my standards through the dirt years ago.
But there was another part, a smaller, hidden part, like a knot in a muscle you can never quite work out.
It was the part that remembered a brother who wasn’t yet defined by what he’d survive or what he made the rest of us survive.
The brother who’d once offered to let me pick the channel, who shared the last spoonful of peanut butter with me, who never snitched even when I deserved it.
I missed that version so much I could feel it in my teeth.
The only thing more mortifying than how much I missed it was the pale hope it was still in there, somewhere, under the scab.
From beside the window, Niles slid from the table. He didn’t come closer. He just leaned one shoulder against the wall and watched.
Miguel, meanwhile, took up space like he owned the patent.
He rested both arms on the counter between us, his posture loose, his smile almost lazy.
He wore a muscle shirt, the tattoos on his forearms looking like they had stories they’d rather keep hidden.
He was one of those guys who somehow smelled better at the end of a day than the beginning, and I hated that about him.
He didn’t say anything right away, just watched me, waiting to see if I’d flinch first.
Secret babies, hidden heirs, and marriages of convenience—old favorites still work for a reason.
Pick your next guilty pleasure on Lokepub.
Ramos hung back, hands in his pockets, body angled toward the door as if he might bolt at any second.
Miguel finally spoke. “Figured maybe you could help out someone hungry.”
His words were syrupy, polite, and just empty enough to make my skin crawl.
If you were Mrs. Hensley folding pillowcases nearby, you’d hear it as harmless, maybe even sweet.
But to me, every syllable came with a secondary meaning.
The words didn’t quite cross the line into threat, but they settled on my skin like static.
I looked at Ramos only. “You brought your emotional support friend?”
Miguel laughed under his breath.
“Wasn’t the plan,” Ramos said, finally. “Miguel was just with me.”
“That did not answer the question,” I said, and my voice had a chill to it that surprised even me.
Miguel grinned sidelong. “I’m here for the emotional labor,” he said. “And the scenery.” His eyes flicked up and down, and I was suddenly aware of my own posture, arms braced on the counter, back arched.
Before I could think of a way to shut him down without escalating things, Mrs. Hensley called out from the back, “Sorry to bother you!”
Her timing was so off it looped around to impressive.
I almost laughed at how perfectly she’d delivered the line.
Her voice bounced off the tiled walls and landed in the tense air between us.
I held up a finger in the international sign for “one moment, please,” and said, “Give me a minute.” Then I pointed at Ramos, careful to keep my eyes locked on his. “Do not touch anything.”
His eyebrows went up, all wounded dignity. “I’m not a raccoon,” he said, and for half a second, I saw the ghost of his old smile, the one from before.
“Debatable,” I said and walked away before I could see how he reacted.
Mrs. Hensley had managed to tangle two fitted sheets together in a way that suggested they were trying out for an escape act.
She hovered beside the cart with her hands half buried in the fabric, apologizing at me with every breath.
Her fingers shook as she tried to untwist the corner elastic, and I realized she was more than flustered—she was nervous.
Not at the laundry, not at me, but at the two guys in the front.
I didn’t blame her. They looked like the kind of men who could make anything, even a laundromat at two in the afternoon, feel dangerous.
I kept my tone gentle. “Here, let me,” I said and took the whole bundle from her.
I’d had a lot of practice with knots. Ramos had always been the type to tie things up, shoelaces or jump ropes or emotions, and it took about thirty seconds to free the sheets.
I stacked them neatly on the edge of her cart.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” she said, releasing a breath. “I just can’t seem to get anything right today.” Her voice was crisp with embarrassment, but her eyes kept flickering past me to the front.
“It’s no trouble,” I said, loud enough that Ramos and Miguel would hear it. “That’s what I’m here for.”
She patted my hand with her paper-dry palm. “You’re a real gem. If I had grandkids, I’d want them to be just like you.”
I smiled at her but couldn’t quite make it stick.
I could feel the tension warping the air from the front of the room.
Dryer doors clanged open and shut, coins rattled in the vending machine.
It felt a little like the last fifteen seconds before a car accident, familiar things happening but with the sense that any minute something would collide.
She wheeled her cart away, sheet problem solved, and I stood there for a moment, just breathing and letting my heart slow.
Across the room, I could see Niles still leaning against the wall, sunglasses now back on, arms crossed like he was guarding the perimeter.
It was almost funny. He was barely taller than me, but he looked like he’d snap a pool cue over his knee and go to war if needed.
I returned to the counter, hoping maybe Ramos and Miguel had taken the hint and left. But they were both still there. Ramos had shifted his weight, and now drummed his fingers on the Formica surface while staring at the detergent shelf.
Miguel’s eyes tracked my every move, and I was suddenly aware of how much they reminded me of a fox I’d once seen at the zoo. Not hungry, exactly, but studying the locks on the cage, just in case.
“So,” I said, wishing I could inject a little more steel into the word. “You two need cash for food.”
Ramos gave a shrug so slight it might have been a twitch. “Just for me. Things are weird right now.”
I didn’t ask what weird meant. I didn’t want to know.
Miguel smirked. “He’s not mooching. Just—”
“Borrowing,” Ramos finished, and for a second, their voices overlapped in perfect harmony.
I glanced at the cash drawer. “You know I can’t just give away the register.”
“Nobody asked you to,” Ramos said. “Just thought you’d have a few bucks.”
I caught the way his fist curled and uncurled, a stutter of nerves. I remembered the way those hands used to palm a basketball, his grip as easy as his laughter. Now they looked older, raw, like he’d punched through drywall more recently than he wanted to admit.
I shifted my gaze to Miguel. “What about you?”
He grinned. “What about me?”
“You don’t have a job either?”
His smile widened, wolfish. He was not at all embarrassed. “It’s hard to keep a job when you’re overqualified for the pay.”
Niles snorted from near the wall. Miguel ignored him.
Grabbing the money from the tip jar, I handed it to Ramos. “Get yourself something to eat. We’ll work out the food situation later.”
“Thanks, little bro.”
I nodded then watched them leave, missing my big brother so badly I wanted to cry.
* * * *
An hour after Niles left, I was bored out of my mind. Even the old ladies were gone. No dryers to rescue. The machines sat motionless inside. I just sat on the wall outside, my thoughts drifting to Riot. He’d texted back that it was cool. What kind of response was that? Two simple words. It’s cool.
If he could blow me off so easily, he wasn’t the guy I’d thought he was. Too bad I hadn’t known before falling for the guy. I’d thought we had a connection, but it was clearly one-sided. I worked myself into a petty little sulk I would deny under oath.
Pulling out my phone, I considered calling Niles. He would know what to say to cheer me up, if that was even possible. I’d never fallen for someone so fast or hard before. If this was what it felt like—the deep ache in my chest—I didn’t want it.