Eight
There’s something ominous about her words. As if she actually can see through me, like I’ve suspected for all these years. I hope you know what you’re doing.
“About what?” I ask, feigning nonchalance and failing miserably. About sleeping with Theo when I’m in love with his brother? About pretending I’m sleeping with Theo to make it look like I don’t, in fact, have feelings for a man I can’t have? It’s comfortably cool inside the bar but sweat starts to bead on my forehead. There are too many ways this line of questioning can go, and I’m far too afraid to guess which direction she’ll take it.
She tilts her head, brown eyes narrowed slightly in that inquisitive way of hers.
“You and Theo.” Me and Theo. Up until this weekend, I never thought there could be such a thing. “Look, you’re a grown woman and I respect whatever choice you make. But his reputation precedes him.”
I want to laugh, for so many reasons, but somehow manage to keep a straight face.
“Ben’s worried you’re getting yourself into a bad situation. You’ve never been big on hookups, and Theo’s never spent longer than two weeks with the same girl.” I flinch again. I knew Theo was bad, but I didn’t think he was that bad.
“I’m good,” I assure her, or at least try to, but she doesn’t look convinced. “I wanna try out something casual for once. See how the other half lives, and all that.” It’s not exactly a lie, but a misdirection. Because while that might be true, I already know that a casual relationship with Theo will only end in disaster.
You hear that, common sense? Now return to my brain, please.
“Really?” Her eyes widen. “I didn’t think that was your style.”
“Not usually.” I play with the straw in my drink to have something to do with my hands, even though nothing but dregs remain inside the glass. “But I don’t know. Maybe I’m missing out on all the fun.” And I am in desperate need of some fun. Not that Theo would truly make himself an option. But if he did…
Okay, looks like I’m saying goodbye to common sense for the night.
Alice won’t be any help either, because she’s smiling. Actually smiling at the thought of Theo and me hooking up. Maybe I’m a better actress than I give myself credit for.
“Then I hope you have some. Just be careful. Guard your heart around that one.”
“I will,” I say, and it’s the first true thing I’ve said to her tonight.
When she turns back to her table, Theo fills her vacant spot carrying a second round of tequila shots. Wordlessly, we clink glasses and down them. It burns less the second time around.
“What was that about?” Theo asks.
“Just a friendly warning to guard my heart around you,” I say with a faux-dramatic flair. “Did you know your reputation precedes you? I should start calling you Taylor Swift.” He bursts into another laugh, clapping his hands. “It’s too bad we got caught up in this situation. You could be out finding a real hookup instead of hanging with me.”
“Aw, but I like hanging out with you.” He reaches out a hand to touch my arm. His skin is warm, heating me from the inside out. What is wrong with me? Goosebumps break out on my arms from the simple touch. I only hope he doesn’t notice. “Plus, it’s kinda fun messing with everyone. Let’s enjoy it now, and fake break up later.”
“The sooner the better, before this whole thing gets away from us.” But inside, I’m surprised by the bloom of disappointment that heats my chest. Don’t be stupid. How many times do I have to tell myself that before I finally listen? Theo Young is a bad idea. But is he worse than Ben? I still can’t decide. Though the more time we spend together, the more I begin to forget all about Ben.
And that can only be a good thing, right?
“It’s kinda funny, though.”
“What’s funny?”
“I was just talking to my best friend earlier today about finding a fling.” I’m treading dangerous water here. “I didn’t get that far, though. Tinder is a cesspool that I’m too chicken to wade through.”
“Is that so?” But he’s only half listening as his eyes fall on something past my shoulder. “They’re still staring. And giggling.” His voice pitches higher than normal. He sounds aggrieved by this, but I don’t know why. If they’re laughing, it’s at my expense. Christine is probably (loudly) wondering what he’s doing with someone like me, when he could be with her instead.
“Ignore them.” My gaze stays trained on him. “They just wish they were in my pretend-place. Except Angela. And Alice.”
He winces, and I bite my tongue. Damn my tipsy brain for having no filter. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, his breath hot on my skin. It’s only now that I notice how close our faces are. Mere inches separate us. A dangerous proximity, considering the kind of thoughts I’ve been having about him all night. But it has to be better than having them about Ben. I’ve practically convinced myself of this by now.
“Maybe it was a bad idea to move back here. I thought I wanted to be closer to family, but this…” He shakes his head, unable to finish his thought.
“San Antonio’s a big city. You can still keep your distance from her when you need to.” I almost reach out and touch his arm, like he touched mine, but hesitate at the last moment and let it fall on the bar. “Don’t let her affect your life and how you choose to move forward.”
I lean in closer, in what’s meant to be a conspiratorial manner, but the musky scent of him is intoxicating. One whiff of him, and I’m starting to think I understand how addicts feel. His eyes are so blue, deep indigo pools I could drown in. Nothing like his brother’s hazel ones.
“You know what you need, Theo?”
“What?” He finally looks at me straight on. The weight of his gaze is almost too much to take.
“A rebound!” I announce, index finger poking at his chest until he moves back a few inches. Already, I can breathe easier now that he’s not so close. Maybe if I can convince him to hook up with someone else, I’ll stop thinking about him this way. “Get under a few girls. Or over them. Behind them. Whichever position suits your sensibilities. I’m sure you can manage a few.”
I nudge him with an elbow, as I imagine a wingman would. His eyes widen in surprise, mouth wobbling like he’s holding in a laugh.
“Right.” A smile breaks through, wide and almost comical, if he wasn’t so damn attractive. But then, a distant scream makes him look past my shoulder again. I turn around too. Alice is clapping, head thrown back as a laugh takes over her body. Christine is frowning, eyes narrowing as she looks up at Angela, who is standing up from the table and shouldering her purse. She waves at the group, and when we make eye contact across the bar, she waggles her brows at me.
I don’t have to know the context to know that Angela will always have my back. Whatever she said to Christine had to have been in my defense.
But Theo doesn’t know what I know. He’s agitated all over again, leg shaking against the barstool. His eyes are trained on Alice, her glossy black hair and flushed cheeks. Finally, he turns away with a scowl. “Are they bothering you as much as they’re bothering me right now?”
I shake my head. I’m completely unbothered, but if he is, there might be a way I can help… no matter how bad of an idea it is. But if I can distract him from Alice, even momentarily, I should take one for the team, right? My eyes fall to his full lips, pursed in a frown I suddenly want so badly to undo.
Talk about tequila bringing out bad sides. And we’re not even drunk yet.
“We could always give them what they came here for.”
He looks back down at me. “And what would that be?”
The heat in his gaze tells me he already knows. Or maybe he’s just matching the heat in mine. His eyes flick down, and now we’re both staring at each other’s mouths. My skin flushes, fever hot. He hesitates a beat, and when I flick my eyes back up to his, I find indecision there. It lasts only a moment before heat replaces logic, and then he’s closing the space between us.
He leans forward until our lips crash together, sudden and collapsing. I taste the salt and lime on his tongue as it slides between my teeth, and I wonder distantly if I taste like raspberries. My fingers curl in his hair, soft and fine to the touch. Oh god, this is the best bad idea I’ve had in years.
His big hands wrap around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest, between his spread legs. I tug on his hair, and am rewarded with a low, throaty groan against my lips. The scruff of his cheeks scratches against mine, but it’s not an altogether bad feeling. Our tongues slide together, and the feeling is almost too much. Pleasure pools low in my stomach, so intense I have to squeeze my legs together to keep from pouncing on him this moment, in front of Alice and her friends and everyone else in the bar.
I didn’t expect this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this good. The kiss was supposed to satisfy my curiosity—a one-time kiss to inspire me to move on to other one-time activities. Preferably, with men whose surnames aren’t Young. But now that I know what it’s like to kiss him, it’s all I want to keep doing. It should scare me, but I just want more of him.
He breaks away, eyes hazy, pupils blown so wide I can’t see a single trace of blue. I wonder if I look as wrecked as I feel, as wrecked as he looks right now. If this is all it takes to forget about Ben, why didn’t I start doing this years ago?
I clear my throat, backing away onto my stool. Theo’s hands fall away from my back, the warmth of him immediately cooling with his absence. We’re both breathing hard and staring harder. I don’t think I’m the only one surprised by the intensity between us.
“Well.” I clear my throat again. “That was…” I put a fist to my mouth, laughing at myself. At us. Never mind that nothing about what just happened is funny. Except maybe my audacity.
“Yeah,” he agrees, mouth spreading into a wide grin. His eyes trail past my shoulder, and then he throws back his head and laughs.
“What?” I turn around, and then turn back to him with wide eyes. “Oh my god. They left.”
We burst into hysterics, laughing like complete idiots. He orders another round of shots, and the rest of the night settles into a pattern of order, clink, drink. It’s the distraction I need after the kiss because wow. I have never been kissed like that before. I’m apparently so quick to dive into literally anything else to get my mind off it that I lose count of how many shots we’ve downed, and my vision is far too blurry to count the shot glasses on our side of the bar.
“All right, Ortiz, you know what I have to do.” Krystal holds out her blurry hand expectantly. “Hand it over.”
“If I have to, then so does he.” I throw an arm around Theo’s shoulders. He squints at me as I hold out my other hand. “Phone. You’re as much in danger of drunk dialing as I am.”
“I’m not gonna drunk dial Alice,” he says past a drunken hiccup. When I don’t budge, he heaves a sigh and shoves his iPhone into my hand. Before I hand mine to Krystal, I notice two missed texts from Angela on the lock screen.
Urgh, Christine had the nerve to say she has no idea what Theo sees in you. Y’all might not really be dating, but I set her straight!
You should’ve SEEN the look on her face when I said maybe she should give it up after ten straight years of rejection.
I let out a hard laugh, shaking my head before turning off my iPhone and handing it to Krystal. When Theo asks what’s so funny, I shrug and shake my head again. To think Angela missed out on the show Theo and I put on for them. I’ll have to tell her all about it later, when my skin isn’t still humming from his touch.
“Y’know…” Theo covers his mouth over a burp. The stench could rival a dragon’s in terms of flammability. “I hate living with Ben. Like, haaaaate it. This weekend alone is triggering all sorts of bad memories from our childhood.”
“But I thought you guys used to be close?” I ask, leaning forward in interest.
“We were. But I didn’t mind his bad living habits when I actually liked him. It’s like”—his words start to slur together and I have to work extra hard to pay attention to what he’s saying—“you leave one sock on the floor in the hallway and it’s the end of the world.”
“Right.” I nod, already losing interest. This isn’t the chisme I was hoping for. “Hey, how drunk do you think you are right now?”
His brows crease, lines forming on his forehead as he thinks over his answer. I burst out a laugh, shoving his shoulder so hard he wobbles off the stool. He barely manages to catch himself, and scowls as he situates himself back in his seat. “What’d you do that for? I wasn’t done thinking.”
“If you have to think about it, the answer is ‘not enough.’”
He nods solemnly and orders a final round of shots when Krystal announces last call. Theo isn’t the least bit fazed by the bartender’s announcement, but he does rush me into downing the shot before paying the tab and retrieving our phones. Krystal calls us an Uber, ensuring we take one together to keep an eye on each other. I’m glad I can always count on her to keep me safe, which I drunkenly gush to her as we leave the bar.
“Do you wanna stay over again?” I ask Theo as he holds the door open for me. Inside the bar, the lights flick off as employees start packing it in for the night. I haven’t moved the blanket and pillow he used from my couch, and since he seems to hate staying with his brother so much—and because it’s two in the morning—it seems like the kind thing to offer.
Then, because I already sound like I’m propositioning him, I add in a teasing voice, “We’ve already done the walk of shame once. What’s one more time?”
The look he gives me could melt steel. His eyes fall to my lips, and heat pools in my most sensitive places. I try to force my drunk brain not to think about that kiss, but it plays in my mind on repeat. When I lick my lips, I still taste him. All warm heat and lime and salt. He lets out a groan, leaning his head back against the brick building.
Then a flicker of emotion I can’t name clouds his eyes. He shakes his head as if he’s changing his mind about something. “We can’t, Marcela.”
I’m surprised by the disappointment that floods me. That’s not even what I was asking him. At least, not really.
“You’re drunk,” Theo says, as if I don’t already know this. “And I’m drunk. So, we sh-shouldn’t.” He stumbles over his words, overemphasizing his point. “We shouldn’t do this. Not right now.”
My brain catches on that last part, because what in the ever-living fuck does he mean by that?
Not right now.
“Theo.” I have no idea why I’m smiling. “That’s not what I—”
“It’s not that I don’t want—” he continues, until a blue Honda pulls up to the curb. The passenger window rolls down, and the driver gives Theo’s name. He nods at the driver as he steps forward and holds the back door open for me.
“Milady.”
Our eyes meet across the open door. His mouth pulls up in a smile that’s not at all wolfish or devious, but something far more genuine. He follows in after me, closing the door behind him.
It’s not that I don’t want— What?
Me?
There’s no way he means me, but I’m not sure how to bring the conversation back to before the Uber pulled up.
“Is Ben gonna be mad at you for coming home so late?” Theo shrugs at my question. His eyes are half closed; I suspect because he’s already asleep. “You’re welcome to crash on my couch again.”
“Cool. Thanks.”