Neev sniffed. “Almost wish I’d taken the seat next to him. Did you fake them, Kitty? No one’s that good?—”
“I nearly passed out,” was my smug retort.
“Seriously, what’s the ring about? Oh, my god, is that why he wanted to reroute to Vegas? You were going to marry him?” Neev squealed at the same time as Raisin demanded:
“Are you seeing him again?” As Neev bounced in her seat, Raisin started spluttering, “Of course they’re not getting married. Oh, fuck, are you?!”
“If she doesn’t, she’s an idiot,” Neev answered on my behalf.
“Thank you for the endorsement, Neev,” Stan commented, wading into the chaos of that conversation with an ease that took the heat off of me.
If I hadn’t already known he had siblings,thiswas proof.
Neev, of course, was the only one cool enough to brush off any embarrassment with: “Do you have a younger brother?”
“And here’s me thinking you and Miguel were meant to be,” he joked as he ambled back to his seat and, casual as you please, dragged me onto his lap.
I settled on there while my sisters shuffled around.
“Miguel was nice,” Neev agreed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger again. “Very nice.”
“Did you get his number?”
“Kitty, what do you take me for?”
“An idiot?”
I tutted. “Raisin, that was mean and you can’t judge. Not when two bikers fought over you last night.”
“I didn’t ask them to,” she defended. “I left the bunkhouse on Operation: Get Shitfaced. They were in their feels over a couple dances, not me. I wanted to hang out with the clubwhores.”
“They’re really called that?” Neev inquired.
“Yup. They call themselves that, too. It’s like a badge of honor. Fascinating stuff.” Raisin hitched a shoulder. “Anyway, youtwo are the ones actively interested in criminals. Not me. No offense, Custanzu.”
“None taken,” he said dryly, but he meant it.
I liked that he could chill with my sisters.
It felt… important.
For the,you know,future.
Inside, I squealed again.
Even knowing that allowing my mind to trip in that direction made me the fool.
Raisin had it right—hewasa criminal.
And the path to falling in love with one could never be smooth…
The ring on my finger cemented that home truth.
I had no way of knowingwhyhe’d traveled with it on his person or what secrets lay behind it, but I wouldn’t take it off either.
As madcap as this whole thing was, the part of me that suffered perennial disappointment with the guys I dated, who devoured rom-coms, who wanted to believe in true love, felt like I might have found the real deal.
Call me dumb, naïve, or downright batshit. I’d take it to see how this would pan out…
