“How many sisters do you have?”
“Four. They’re all a pain, but I love them all to pieces. How do you like Carmen?”
“Do you want honesty?”
Diego laughed, his whole body shaking and fists pounding on the table. “Good,” he said, “You’ve seen through her knight-in-shining-armor routine.”
“What do you mean knight in shining armor?”
“Even this date,” he added. “There’s some kind of wrong she’s trying to right. She’s been this way since she went to a snazzy high school, Robinson or Matherson or some shit, with a really good computer science program.”
“Stevenson?” I asked.
“That’s right.” Diego nodded. “Hasn’t been the same since.”
“I went there for a year.”
“Huh, weird coincidence.” Diego leaned in. “And you never met?”
“Not that I remember.” I shook my head. “I kept to myself, though.”
Diego scratched his chin, connecting some puzzle pieces but not sharing. “Just remember, I love the girl, but she looks out for whatever her end goal is.”
I smiled at his warning, at the way he was both protective and unfiltered, as if he couldn’t help giving me the truth straight. And yet, my chest tightened in the wrong way. He was magnetic, warm, real, the kind of man who’d fix your car at midnight and dance until you laughed. But another pair of eyes intruded; Lincoln’s fierce and bluest eyes were possessive and impossible to ignore. Diego was right here, tasting of belonging and smelling of Tequila… and I wanted to lean into it. Yet every time I tried, my heart recoiled, tripping over hurting someone who’d never tripped over hurting me.
“Wanna get out of here?” Diego asked.Is he asking?“We’ve drank and dined. We gotta burn it off. There’s a place around the corner. I DJ there often. Let’s dance the night away, yeah?”
He stood and offered me his hand. Again, waiting for my decision. I grasped his hand, warm and rugged against mine.
We stepped outside, the night air cool against my legs, and Diego’s hand landed on my back. We stepped out laughing, still carrying the warmth of the tequila between us. His shoulderbrushed mine as he teased me about the way I wrinkled my nose when I disagreed with him. Then I froze.
Lincoln was leaning against a lamppost, channeling a vigilante superhero forged from darkness. His posture screamed fake casual, but tension piled up heavily on his shoulders.
Diego slowed beside me, his body slightly in front of me. “Everything all right?” he asked, his voice even, protective without making a scene, his hand pressing just a little firmer into my back.
“Hey!” Lincoln chuckled. “Hey, man, I’m Nina’s… roommate.” His eyes shifted around without settling on me or Diego. “Well, since we ran into each other, we could head home together, huh?”
“What are you doing here, Lincoln?” I asked.
“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck, biceps building. “It’s Friday.”
“And?”
“And I guess we’re going out in the same neighborhood.”
“Really?”
An all too-familiar voice cut through the hum of traffic. Natasha. She rushed from the other side of the street, all but colliding into Lincoln’s chest, and looped her arms around his middle with a girlish squeal. He didn’t wrap his arms around her but didn’t push her away. My stomach dropped.
“Nina.” Lincoln’s voice was low, directed only at me. “Let’s head home.”
“Linc, don’t be a bore!” Natasha squealed. “My friends are just across the street. Come hang out!”
“Natasha, shut up!” Then he yanked her arms off him. “Nina, listen, Carmen mentioned you’d be here, and I came, foryou. Let’s go.” Lincoln’s eyes pleaded with me.
“I’m not ready to go, and you haven’t even gone out with Natasha yet.”
“That’s right, Lincoln, come do shots with us!” Natasha added.
