Iris had been sitting next to me on the couch, leaned up against me, half asleep and hiccupping. She’d had three full glasses of the sangria—and my father usually made it strong.
Dani and JT were the designated drivers for the evening, so I helped them rally the rest of the troops into their respective car rides home.
When I walked back up to house, Iris was standing in the doorway with a goofy, semi-drunk smile on her face. God, I wanted to kiss her and take her to bed so damn bad, but I wasn’t going to do that with her inebriated. I also didn’t want her going back to her apartment like this either.
“It’s late and you’re not exactly sober, so just stay here again tonight, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, still smiling, but she took a few steps closer to me and put her body flush up againstthe front of mine.
“I feel safe here with you,” she said softly, mindlessly running her fingers over my beard at my jawline. “I know if anyone were to try to hurt me, you would stop them.”
Damn, if that didn’t make me feel good, knowing I gave that peace to her. One good thing about looking like a scary, dangerous asshole was that she took solace in that, knowing I could protect her.
“Your natural badassery skills are awesome,” she said, moving her hand from my beard down to intertwine with my hand at my hip.
She pulled me inside toward the couch. We both sat, me sitting upright against the back of the couch, and Iris sitting facing my left side.
“Happy birthday, Hector,” she said quietly to me. “Did you have a good birthday?”
I did, though I’d specifically told my mother I did not want a bunch of people over. I had told her earlier in the week that I would text her in the morning and meet them all for dinner somewhere. Somewhere that wasn’t my house.
“Yes. That was the least awkward encounter with my family I think I’ve had in years, and it was all because of you, so thank you,” I told her.
“I really want to make out with you like teenagers,” she said, smiling, her glassy eyes and pink cheeks indicating she was still buzzed.
“I know at some point you’ll regret being with me, Iris, because I’m a grumpy asshole who’s done some bad things,” I told her. “But I don’t want to make that regrethappen sooner by taking you to bed while you’re tipsy and you wake up tomorrow morning wishing you hadn’t let me take advantage of you.”
She stared contemplatively at me for a few moments, or maybe she was struggling to get her thoughts together since she was still tipsy.
“You’re a good man, Hector.”
“I’m really not, Iris, but I’m glad you think so.”
14
“Hangovers are just regret with a headache.”
—It’s science
Iris
I woke up the next morning with a slight headache and my phone chirping like crazy.
I rolled over to grab the annoying device, realizing I was in Hector’s guest bedroom. Memories from the night before started to flood back to me. I had practically thrown myself at him after having a few glasses of his dad’s amazing sangria.
My heart melted a little more, knowing that he didn’t take advantage because he didn’t want me to think less of him. I didn’t think that was possible, though. I’d watched this brute of a man almost throw down with Rita—his own sister— when he thought she was talking crap about my body. I’d also watched him sign back and forth to his other sister Dani and had seen her melt into him. Themore I learned about Hector, the more I knew I wanted to be with him.
Opening up my phone, I pulled up the family group chat to see a whole bunch of messages.
Auntie:
Oooh, ladies, I got a new smut book from the book fair, and it is soooooo good! It’s about a sexy Scottish highlander with a giant swizzle stick under his kilt.
Hazel:
Did you seriously just say swizzle stick?
Cora:
