“What? You want me to just pack a bag and move into your frat house? Live with you and your whiny brother? No privacy, no space, no peace. Him bitching about everything and you trying to boss me around every second.”
My lips twitch. She pretty much nailed it. All that, and now add Ryan to the mix.
“Yeah.”
“Ay.” She throws her hands up. “You think this is funny? This is my life. My things. My home. And you walk in like some big hero and say, ‘Sofia, you can’t stay here, Sofia, you need me to protect you, Sofia, you’re scared and can’t be alone.’ No, Papito. I don’t need you.”
I lower my voice and point at the one thing that does need her, aside from me. “But he does.”
That stops her.
Her arms drop, hands planting on that waist over her curvy hips. Paco lets out a soft bark like he’s seconding me. Her chin trembles. She shakes her head, muttering under her breath, pacing small angry circles.
“Always using my baby against me. That’s not fair. You know it’s not fair.”
“Maybe, but it’s the truth. If that piece of shit ex got in this time, he’ll get in next time. At least until we change the locks on your door.”
She exhales hard, glancing around the apartment as if searching for one more reason to refuse. But the comments about the locks might have sealed the deal. She picks up her dog, clutches him to her chest, and pats my chest.
“Only until the locks are changed. And only for my little Paco.”
My cock twitches. Excited to have it nestled between her ass cheeks as I fall asleep tonight.
“For Paco,” I echo when she brushes past me.
She mutters more Spanish under her breath. Rapid and frustrated. Every word sounds angry as she stomps down the hall to her bedroom. I quickly texted Em about what happened. He doesn’t answer. If he’s gaming with Ryan, it could be hours. Then I walk to the front door, examine it for signs of forced entry.
Seeing none, I snap some pictures and text my handyman to replace it and drill in a deadbolt. Then I check her patio doors and her windows. All locked. Snap more pictures. She pauses mid-packing, watches, but doesn’t say anything.
Paco runs in circles on the bed beside her bag, excited for some reason. Or maybe that’s just how chihuahuas are. She throws clothes into the bag without folding them, muttering to herself.
“You don’t need all that.” I lean against the doorframe, watching her. “It’s a night or two.”
“I pack what I want.” She slams a drawer shut, pulls out another. “I want options. Besides, this is loco. My life, upside down because of one idiot I already got rid of.”
“Your life upside down? Or is it right side up now? You got Paco safe. You got me.”
“You.” She laughs sharply. It is full of anger. “You think you’re some knight on a horse rescuing the poor nurse from her tiny apartment.”
Her bag zips hard. Glares at me.
“Not rescuing. Just keeping you safe.” I kick off the doorframe, ready to go. “You hungry?”
I keep it casual, knowing it’ll set her off. She whirls, points at me like she did with that red marker the first day I met her.
“You drag me out of my home. Tell me I can’t stay alone, make me pack, and use the threat to my dog against me. Now you ask if I’m hungry?”
Oh, she’s definitely hangry.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Figured you’d want dinner.”
Her nostrils flare.
“Ay, fine. Cuban food.”
I grin, scooping up her bag.
“Plantains it is.”
