Chapter Nine #2
“That doesn’t matter. You worked for this. Nobody handed you anything, and you kept going even when people made you feel like you didn’t belong there.” She cups my cheek for a second, her thumb brushing beneath my eye. “You belong there, mi amor. Don’t forget that this weekend.”
I look down at the foil container in front of me so she doesn’t see how badly the words hit.
“Okay,” I murmur.
“Okay what?”
“I won’t forget.”
“Good.” She kisses my forehead, then reaches down to scratch Guacamole under the chin. He immediately starts purring against my arm like he wasn’t screaming at her through the door thirty seconds ago. “And you behave while your mamá is gone.”
“Like that will ever happen.”
“He gets that from you.” She scratches under his chin, and Guac immediately leans into her hand like the shameless little suck-up he is. “I’ll stop by to check on you, mi amor. Maybe I’ll even bring you a little snack.”
His purr gets louder.
“Wow.” I stare at both of them. “Betrayed in my own house.”
Mom laughs and picks up Mateo’s container. “I need to go before I’m late.” She hugs me tightly, one arm around my shoulders and the other careful not to crush Guac between us.
“Te amo,” she says against my hair.
“Te amo también.”
She hugs Bex next, reminds both of us to eat, then leaves before I can tell her again that she made too much food.
I close the door and stand there for a second, Guac warm in my arms, watching through the window as she climbs into her car. Her headlights sweep across the front of the house before she backs out and heads toward Mateo’s place.
Bex comes up beside me, already chewing.
I look down at her hand. “Did you seriously steal an empanada the second I turned around?”
“She said we should eat.” Bex takes another bite like that settles it, then makes a happy little noise. “God, this is so good.”
“You say that every time my mom feeds you.”
“Because your mom is literally the best cook. Also, I’m pretty sure she loves me more.”
“She does not.”
“She gave me the bigger hug.”
“That’s because she knows you’re emotionally fragile.”
Bex presses a hand to her chest like I just wounded her. “Wow. After everything we’ve been through.”
She takes one last bite, then wanders back toward my bedroom like she pays rent here while I start putting the food away. I leave two breakfast burritos and a container of pastries out for tomorrow, even though Revel already said he’s bringing breakfast.
I catch myself smiling at the thought and immediately flatten my mouth.
Absolutely not.
By the time I get back to the bedroom, Bex is sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed with Guacamole curled in her lap, both of them looking far too comfortable for people who have contributed absolutely nothing to the packing process.
Bex smiles like she knows better, then glances toward the equipment cases by the door. “You nervous?”
“For the set?”
“For all of it.” Bex scratches under Guac’s chin, watching me a little too closely. “I mean, you and Revel trapped in a car together for four hours, then spending the whole weekend in Miami basically alone.”
“We won’t be alone. There’ll be thousands of people at the festival.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
I look up from the shirt in my hands. “Ay, what is that face?”
“What face?”
“That little nosy-ass face you make when you think you’ve figured something out.”
“I don’t know anything.” She scratches Guac’s chest while he sprawls farther across her legs. “I’m just curious why Revel St. Clair is driving four hours to Miami to carry speakers when you supposedly can’t stand him.”
“He’s suspended after that stupid ass shit he did in the race last weekend, so now he has nothing else to do.”
“Sure, that explains why he can go. But it doesn’t explain why you said yes.”
“I said yes cause I need help.”
“Thought you were going to ask your cousins?”
“They’re busy.”
“You didn’t ask them, did you?”
“I didn’t need to. Revel already knows James, so it makes more sense for him to come.”
Bex’s hand slows over Guac’s back. “Wait. How does Revel know James?”
I let out a disgusted noise and toss the shirt into my suitcase. “Because the second James offered me the set, Revel came marching over like he owned the fucking building and introduced himself as my boyfriend.”
Bex stares at me. “He did not.”
“Oh, he did. Full chest out, hand shake, smug little grin. Basically waving his dick around like he was king shit and needed James to know I belonged to him. It was mortifying.”
“And you corrected him?”
“I was in the middle of getting offered Sol Fuego, Bex. I wasn’t about to turn it into some weird relationship press conference.”
“So you let it slide.”
“I let James keep talking. Big difference.”
Bex looks at me for a long second, then glances toward my phone on the dresser.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is not a nothing face.”
She looks back at me, eyes narrowing. “Your phone has been dry as fuck all night.”
“So?”
“So your usual lineup normally starts circling after dark. Not one ‘you up,’ no shirtless mirror pic, not even that tattoo guy with the tragic beard.”
“I stopped answering him.”
“Since when?”
I don’t answer fast enough.
Bex goes completely still.
“Oh my God.”
I frown. “What now?”
“You fucked Revel.”
My hands freeze over the suitcase. “What? No. How the hell did you get there?”
“Because Revel has been chasing you for months and he has never once pulled the boyfriend card. Then suddenly he’s staking a claim in front of James, you’re letting him go to Miami with you, and every other man in your phone has disappeared.”
“He’s always been possessive.”
“Not like that.”
“You’re reaching.”
“Am I?” Her grin starts spreading. “Because you’re also doing that thing where you get pissed instead of answering.”
“I’m pissed because you’re being nosy.”
“You love when I’m nosy.”
“I really don’t.”
“Cece.” She leans closer, eyes huge now. “Holy shit. You actually fucked him.”
“Bexley, lower your voice.”
She slaps both hands over her mouth and lets out a muffled scream while Guac startles upright in her lap. Guac jumps down just as she launches forward and grabs my wrist.
“When did this happen? Was it after the race? It was after the race, wasn’t it? You followed him home bitch, I saw you pull out behind him.”
“I did not follow him home.”
“You absolutely did.”
“Fine, okay. But I only went there because he almost got himself killed and I was pissed.”
“And then what? You tripped and landed naked?”
“Can you act normal for five seconds?”
“No, because I have been waiting for this since the first night you met him and pretended you didn’t spend the entire evening checking if he was looking at you.”
“I did not.”
“You nearly broke your neck pretending not to watch him.”
“That is such bullshit.”
Bex presses both hands over her mouth, but it does nothing to hide the scream that comes out of her. She falls backward onto my pillows and starts kicking her feet against the mattress like she’s sixteen and I just told her the hottest guy at school asked for my number.
Guac startles, jumps down from the bed and into the hamper of clean warm laundry.
“Look what you did. You scared my son.”
“Fuck your son. You had sex with Revel.”
Guacamole’s head snaps towards us, eyes narrowed into judgmental little slits.
Bex immediately looks at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but your mother has been withholding important information.”
“It is not important.”
“It is the most important fucking thing you’ve told me in months.”
“No, I did tell you I’m playing Sol Fuego Saturday night.”
“That is career important. This is best-friend important. Different category.”
I grab a pillow and smack her in the stomach with it. “Ay, cállate.”
She catches it, laughing.
“Was it good?”
“I’m not answering that.”
Her laughter cuts off. Slowly, she lowers the pillow and stares at me.
“Oh my God. It was really good.”
“Bex, te juro, shut up.”
“It was. Look at your face.”
“There is nothing wrong with my face.”
“You look pissed off.”
“I usually look pissed off, cabrona.”
No, this is your specific I-liked-something-I-didn’t-want-to-like face.”
“That is not a face.”
“I’ve known you since high school. You absolutely have a face for it.”
I turn away and refold a shirt that was already fine.
“It happened after the race. I went over there because he almost got himself killed and I wanted to yell at him.”
“And somehow his clothes fell off?”
“Ay, cállate.”
She keeps poking at me until I finally admit that yes, it was good, and no, it didn’t mean anything. I got dressed, went home, got ready, and played my set like the whole thing never happened.
“That doesn’t exactly scream meaningless,” Bex says, her smile fading into something gentler. “You slept with him, then he showed up at your set looking proud as hell. Now he’s going to Miami with you. Cece, the man is obsessed.”
“He likes the chase.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he just likes you.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “He’s a good guy. Loud, cocky, reckless as fuck, but good. And he isn’t your dad.”
My shoulders tighten, but she doesn’t push it harder.
“You don’t have to trust him with your whole life,” she says. “Just give him a chance to prove he’s not going anywhere.”
I look down at Guac curled in my lap, warm and completely relaxed while my brain does the opposite.
Revel already got me into bed.
He could have taken the win and moved on.
Instead, he came to my set. He watched me like I was the only person in the room, acted proud when James offered me Miami, and invited himself along before I could even figure out how to ask for help.
Maybe that’s what scares me.
Not that he’ll leave.
That he actually wants to stay.
Tomorrow, I’ll be stuck in a car with him for four hours while he runs his mouth, touches my radio, and acts like calling me mama isn’t a threat to his health.
It sounds exhausting.
Ay cono, I can’t wait.