Misty: What do I wear? All black?
Me: I guess. He didn’t say otherwise.
Misty: I hate this. I don’t want to go.
Me: If you don’t go, you’ll get in trouble.
Misty: I’m almost 21, wtf.
Me: I’m 22, yet here I am . . .
Misty: ugh. Whatever. See you later.
I set my phone down for the last time and start getting ready for tonight’s event, which I am now dreading as much as my sister.
Chapter 16
Jo
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I look at Jagger, who’s in the kitchen eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. “Why do you always think something is wrong with me?”
“Because you always have a look on your face that says something is wrong with you.”
“That’s just my face.” I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
He eyes me up and down. “You showered and changed into the same outfit?”
“This is a different outfit, but thanks for pointing out that no one will notice that I tried to look presentable.”
He chuckles. “I didn’t say you didn’t look presentable.”
“Right.” I open the fridge and grab a water bottle and a Greek yogurt. “We’re running low on supplies already, which is baffling.”
“Baffling?” His eyes dance with amusement. “You’ve obviously never lived with a guy.”
“That or maybe your friends who keep coming over should start pitching in to our grocery fund.”
“Or I can just pay for the groceries.” He shrugs a shoulder.
“Right. I forget. Your mom probably sends you money every week.”
“My mom?” He laughs loudly. “Hell no. I have scholarship money.”
“To pay for school.” I stop opening my yogurt and look up at him. “I thought you declined the sports scholarship and decided to give that money to someone else who needed it? That’s what Dad said. Did you get two scholarships?”
“Yep.” He grins. “You’re not the only one who can be a nerd, you know?”
“Hm.” I eye him curiously. “You shouldn’t be allowed to be a nerd.”
“Because I’m a jock?”
“Yeah.” And hot. And funny. And gorgeous. And nice. All things I’d never admit aloud. I focus on my yogurt again.
“So you’re heading out already?”
“My uncle wants us there at five.”
“It’s four.”
“And he wants me to pick up my grandmother on my way there.”
“Doña Sabrina is coming?” Jagger raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Well, she’ll be there.”
“Is she making cheesecake?”
“Maybe.” I purse my lips.
“Damn, I can’t wait. Maybe I should go get ready and get there early so I can try some before my brothers eat it all.”
I laugh. “I’ll save you a slice.”
“You promise?”
I meet his gaze and nearly drop my spoon with the way he’s looking at me, with an intensity I’ve only seen in his expression a handful of times, like he’s asking me for more than just a slice of cheesecake. I make myself swallow the bit of yogurt I’d put in my mouth and nod as I turn around and throw away the empty container. I need to leave. I’m starting to feel like a coward, always running away from him when I can’t handle the emotions he’s eliciting, but I am and he is. I call out “see you later” from the door just before I shut it behind me and walk to my car quickly. It’s not like he’s going to follow me or anything, but I still feel like I’m in a rush to leave.
* * *
“Ay, this car is awful,” my grandmother says, sucking her teeth.
“Yeah, but it transports me from point A to point B.”
“Until it breaks down.” She sucks her teeth again. “Does it have a functioning radio?”
“No.”
“No?” She gasps, shaking her head. “Jesus, Josephine.”
“Nana, you don’t even drive. Your judgment is beneath me right now.”
“Beneath you where? On the street I feel scraping against my butt every time you go over a median?”
I groan. She’s such a pain in the ass, my grandmother, but I love her and I’ve always loved her way of telling it like it is. Misty gets that trait from her. Mom says it’s an Aquarius thing. I don’t understand much about astronomy signs, but I know I’m an Aries and most of the things Walter Mercado used to say about us are true. On that note, I turn and glance at my grandmother briefly. She’s looking at herself in the little mirror behind her sun visor, fixing the red lipstick she’s wearing. She always tries to get me to wear it because we have similar complexions—olive skin with dark hair—but whenever I wear lipstick I feel like a clown.
“Did you see the Walter Mercado special on Netflix?” I ask.
“Not yet.” She sighs. “I got sucked into another Spanish show. Let me tell you, those Spaniards can tell a story and hook you. I wish I’d known that before. To think I wasted all of those years on telenovelas.” She purses her lips and shakes her head as she pats the coils of short curls on her head.
“You love your telenovelas, Nan.” I shoot her a sideways glance.
“I’m done with them.”
“You say that every time.” I laugh. “Remember when we met that actor at the vet and you almost forgot your dog there because you were so enamored?”
“Fernando Colunga. How could I forget?” She smiles. “I don’t know why your father chose to move out of Miami and land in the middle of nowhere North Carolina,” she says with distaste.
“To be fair, Uncle Adrian was here first.”
“Yes, but who follows Adrian? Only an idiot would.”
“Yet, here we are.” I laugh again. “You have to admit, it’s nice here, and we have the seasons.”
“Who cares about the seasons?” She scowls. “All I do is make cheesecake for Adrian and go shopping with your mother. Thank God for Netflix.”
“Here, here,” I say.
“I hope you didn’t mess up the cheesecakes.” Nana looks at the back seat as I park the car in the closest spot to the back door.
“I’m sure they’re fine. I’ll help you inside and have Donovan get them. Don’t worry.”
When we step inside, Donovan is talking to the kitchen staff about the menu and placement of the food. I slip past them and find my uncle to tell him to help me get the cheesecakes out of the car.
“Where’s your sister?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure she’ll be here.”
“She better be. I told Marissa to take the night off.”
“You did what?” I balk. “So it’ll just be us?”
“All you have to do is put plates in front of people, Jo. It’s not that difficult.”
“Says the man dressed to the nines who won’t be putting plates in front of people.” I shoot him a look as we step outside.
Thankfully, my sister is parking the shiny white BMW next to my rusty gold Celica and the three of us are able to get all of the cheesecakes in one trip.
* * *
“Mitch is here alone,” Misty whispers when we’re both behind the bar, pouring glasses of water for everyone.
“So?”
“So isn’t that weird?”
I look over the bar out to the tables and focus on the one Mitch is sitting at. He’s sitting beside Jagger, who did bring a date along, that Jessa girl. Maverick is also solo woman-wise, but he brought a friend. The entire room is filled with athletes and coaches though, so I guess they’re all friends.
“Well, you always said Mitch’s first love was baseball. I guess that hasn’t changed.”
“You’re right. I thought that was just an excuse he made to get rid of me,” she says softly.
“I don’t think anyone would ever want to get rid of you.” I set my hand over hers and squeeze it. “And if they do, they’re crazy.”
“True.” She smiles and
looks over at their table again. “Who’s the girl Jag’s with?”
“Jessa.”
“I take it we don’t like her?” Misty laughs.
“What makes you say that?”
“The way you just said her name like she’s gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.”
“She’s the one we walked in on him with.”
“Ohhhh.” Misty frowns slightly. “I vaguely remember that.”
“You were drunk.” I laugh. “Anyway, they hook up a lot.”
“You walked in on them again?”
“No. God no. I just know.”
“Hm.”
“Whatever.” I shrug. “Not my problem.”
“But you care.” She shoots me a look. “I can tell you care.”
“I don’t care. Why would I care?”
“Maybe you like him. I mean, he’s pretty irresistible and to be living with him? You’re bound to develop some kind of feelings for him.”
“Besides annoyance?”
“You keep telling yourself that, Jo.” Misty laughs as she lifts the tray with waters.
I do the same with the tray beside it and ignore her comment because I truly don’t care and I have absolutely no feelings for him. We split up and place waters in front of everyone at the tables. When I get to the table where Jagger is sitting, I make it a point to avoid all eye contact, which is hard. He’s wearing a black suit and has brushed his hair to the side and looks so fucking hot. I hate myself for thinking it.
“Hey, you’re Lawrence Fisher’s girlfriend,” one guy says.
“Ex-girlfriend,” Jagger answers for me. I shoot him a look that says mind your business.
“Shit, you guys broke up?” The guy raises an eyebrow. “He’s about to get paid.”
“He’s a piece of shit,” Jagger says. “Fuck him and his millions.”
The guy starts cackling. I walk away quickly.
“What was that about?” Misty asks when we’re back behind the bar.
“Nothing.” I keep my gaze on Jagger’s profile wishing he’d look at me so I can flip him off. He doesn’t look. Jessa sets a hand on his shoulder though and I find myself silently seething.
“Girls. Pick up the pace. The salads should be out there by now,” Uncle Adrian says.
My sister and I go to the kitchen and start setting salad plates on the trays and walk out one behind the other. This time, we both start on the same side of the restaurant. There are only seven tables occupied and the salad plates are pretty small. Uncle Adrian has two guys from the kitchen setting the bread down on each table as we do this. When we reach the Cruz brothers’ table, Misty and I freeze momentarily and look at each other. It’s an unspoken understanding. She doesn’t want to serve Mitch and even though I haven’t explained the full situation of Jagger and me, Misty knows I don’t want to be near him either. We switch places and I take Mitch’s side while she takes the other. I lower my empty tray and start heading to the back when a hand closes around my forearm and stops me. My skin prickles. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s him, but when I do turn around slowly and find myself staring into his toffee-colored eyes, my pulse starts zapping inside me like I’m being electrocuted.
“Do you need something?”
He lets go of my arm and smiles lazily. “I just wanted to remind you about our agreement.”
“What agreement?” My eyes bounce from him to Jessa beside him, who’s doing a good job at pretending not to pay attention, and back to him.
“Cheesecake.”
“Oh.” I let out an awkward laugh. “Sure. Yeah, I totally got you.”
The edge of his mouth lifts as he watches me walk away. It takes me the entirety of my walk to calm down. That’s fifteen whole steps. There’s a reason I don’t tell my sister about my reactions to him. For starters, I never told her we hooked up. I tell my sister mostly everything, but I didn’t tell her that. Secondly, she’d laugh at me and I wouldn’t blame her. I mean, how could I have this response to a man I live with but am not with? It’s ridiculous.
“Main courses are next. Then cheesecake,” Uncle Adrian says. “Why don’t the two of you sit down and let these guys serve the main courses and cheesecake?”
“We’re here to work,” Misty says.
“I’m still paying you. Don’t worry.” Uncle Adrian chuckles. “But Donovan had two extras come in tonight that I wasn’t expecting so you might as well sit down. Your dad’s paying for all of this anyway.”
“Okay.” Misty looks at me warily. I shrug and start taking my apron off. She does the same. “Should we sit with Mom and Dad?”
“Um, no. That’s the boring table. Besides, it’s filled up.” I look around. “There are two seats available at that one.”
“I don’t know any of those guys.”
“Neither do I, but food is food, and they’re kind of cute.”
“I thought you said no more college athletes.” She tucks her hand into my elbow as we walk over.
“Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I meant no athletes for boyfriends. I can hook up with one.”
“You’ve never just hooked up with anyone.” She laughs. “You’re too much of a relationship type.”
“You’re only saying that because I’ve been in a relationship for the majority of my college life.” I frown.
“Precisely.”
“You hook up with guys.”
“And I am one hundred percent okay with doing the one-and-done thing.”
“I feel like that’s what I need in my life right now.”
“I agree.” She smiles at me with a wink as we reach the table. “And they are kind of cute.”
Chapter 17
Jagger
Jo’s laugh keeps pulling me out of the conversation my brothers are having. I glance over there for what seems like the hundredth time since she sat at the table next to ours. She’s talking to Bobby Yelich from the baseball team and I’d bet money that whatever is coming out of his mouth is not as funny as she’s making it out to be.
“Dude, you’re staring,” Mav whispers in my ear. “And Jessa’s right beside you.”
“So?”
“So, she’s fucking hot and you’re staring at Jo.”
“So?” I meet his gaze.
“Jessa’s a sure bet. Jo? In your dreams.” He chuckles. I glare. He laughs harder.
“Fuck you, Mav.”
Jessa and I are not a thing. We’re not dating. Sure, we hook up, but we have an understanding. She likes being seen with me and I like staying single and keeping my options open. Jessa’s a cool girl, anyone would be lucky to have her, but she’s ultimately not my type. We like to fuck though and right now that’s the most important thing we have in common. I look at Josephine again. She has her hand on Bobby’s now and is leaning in as he types something on his phone. Jesus Christ, I hope she didn’t give him her phone number. I shake my head. She just got out of one bad relationship and she’s going to what, jump into another one? Everyone knows Bobby is one of the biggest players. He’s never seen with the same girl twice. I look at Mitch, who’s glaring at the other table as well. When I look again, I notice Misty is also sitting there flirting with someone, and shit, these guys are Mitch’s teammates. Not that they know he had something with Misty. It was so damn long ago, I even forget sometimes. Obviously, my brother doesn’t share that sentiment. Before I know it, he’s getting up and going over there. I watch as he interrupts Misty’s conversation and she stands up, the two of them walking off to the corner of the room.
“Shit is getting good,” Mav says, stuffing another piece of bread into his mouth. I swear he ate the entire loaf and somehow he’s still at it. “They’re arguing.”
“I see that.”
“Why are they arguing?” Jessa asks, pressing a hand on my thigh as she scoots a little closer.
“They used to date,” Mav says.
“What?” Jessa looks over at them again. “She’s really pretty.”
“She’s gorgeous,
” Mav says. “She’s a Canó. Those two are like up there with angels. Maybe Victoria’s Secret Angels, but angels nonetheless. Definite tens.”
Jessa laughs. “What am I then?”
“You’re pretty.” Mav shrugs a shoulder like he didn’t just burn this girl. I stifle a laugh. Sometimes I forget what a savage my brother can be and how much I enjoy it, not that I would enjoy him hurting Jessa, but still.
“What do you think, Jag?” Jessa looks at me. “Am I up there with them?”
“I wasn’t the one who said they’re up there with any kind of angels and I definitely do not rate women on a number scale.” I raise an eyebrow.
She’s got me fucked up if she thinks I’m going to enter this conversation. I’ve seen too many men meet their downfall by giving women the wrong answer and that’s just not going to be me. Not tonight anyway. Apparently, my answer is still the wrong answer because Jessa scowls at me, takes her hand off my lap to cross her arms, and faces forward.
“You’re rooming with one of them,” she says, still not looking at me.
“And?”
“And you think she’s hot.”
“I never said that.”
“She’s hot. I’m saying she’s hot.” Jessa throws daggers at me with her eyes when she looks at me again. “So I know you think she is.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” I pick up the Jameson on the rocks I’m having and drink.
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