“Thanks, but I can get my door,” I bark, climbing into the backseat using the running board and interior handle.
“Never said you couldn’t,” he says before shutting the door in my face, escalating my irritation.
The sooner we get home, the better.
Once he’s situated behind the wheel, he starts the engine, and the heat blasts across the cab.
“Where to now?”
I provide him with my address, and he punches it into the navigation on his dashboard before pulling out. He and Papà are talking about Boston and how long he’s been here.
I learn he’s originally from Hawaii. He wants to get as far away from his parents as possible, preferring the surf and sun over the cold and snow. He’s an only child in his last semester before moving to MIT, where he aims to become a Doctor of Chemistry like his idol, my father.
I snort.
Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror momentarily before a deep frown cuts across his handsome face. I’ve struck a nerve, but I don’t know why. Surely, he’s just buttering up my family to get with me.
The ride is thankfully short.
The truck barely pulls to the curb before I jump out with our bags and yank open my father’s door.
“Thanks for everything,” I holler across the cab, helping my father out of the truck, who looks bewildered.
Unfortunately, Diego refuses to take the hint and gets out of the truck to personally say goodbye to “his idol.” I walk ahead and unlock my apartment door, intending to cut this night short.
Diego follows behind as I open the door, his voice warm and animated as he exchanges final words with my father. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the ease with which he charms him. Papà, oblivious to my irritation, clasps Diego’s hand in a firm shake, grinning like they’ve been lifelong friends.
“You’re a good kid,” Papà says, his tone filled with approval that makes my stomach churn. “You’ll do great things.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”
His smile falters slightly when he catches the tightness in my expression.
“Well, I’ll let you two get some rest.”
His tone is neutral, but his eyes are searching mine like he’s trying to gauge if he’s truly back in my good graces. Spoiler alert: he’s not.
“Goodnight, Isabella.”
I swing open the door for my father to get inside. I need a moment alone with this kid to set him straight.
“Go ahead, Papà. I need to talk to my student for a second.”
He nods, adjusting the strap of his sling before crossing the threshold enough for me to set our bags down in the entryway and close the door behind him. Diego’s already walking down the path to his truck.
“Hey,” I yell at him, my temper flaring with all the fakeness he smothered my father in. He turns, surprise wrinkling across his face at my tone. “Let me tell you something.”
I charge after him, ready to unleash on him. His lips curl into a small, knowing smile that irritates me further.
“You can turn on all that charm with me, but you won’t do it to my father. That crosses the line. He’s a nice man and believes in the best of people. Something I won’t let you take advantage of.”
“Sounds like I’m running out of lines to cross with you.”
His infuriating smirk deepens.
“This isn’t a joke. This isn’t some game you can win with charm and a few compliments. My father is not a part of whatever scheme you’ve cooked up to worm your way back into my good graces.”
His smirk fades into something more serious, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the streetlights.
