I open the passenger door for her because, despite what Noah thinks, I was raised right. And because if I don’t do something with my hands, I might do something stupid like brush her hair back to kiss her.
We pull onto the road, and I queue up some music to fill the silence and calm my thoughts. A reggaetón playlist comes on—Bad Bunny, a little Rauw Alejandro, the good stuff.
Eva perks up. “Oh, I think I remember you speak Spanish, right?”
I glance at her and smirk. “Claro que sí. I grew up speaking it.”
“Do you go to Puerto Rico often?”
“Every summer if I can swing it. My parents and Iusually make it out for at least a couple weeks. All our family’s still there: grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. It’s always a full house. I spend most of the trip eating too much and baking under the sun.”
She laughs. “Sounds like heaven.”
“It is,” I say. “Beaches, good food, family. It’s loud and chaotic and perfect.”
“I took Spanish in high school,” she says proudly. “And a bit in college. So I know some stuff.”
I chuckle. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Hmm... ¿Dónde está el baño?” she says with a dramatic flourish.
I laugh. “That one’s always a classic.”
She lifts a brow. “Say something to me. Something in Spanish.”
Dangerous game, Ross.
But I can’t help myself. I lean back in my seat and let the words roll off my tongue, “¿Sabes que eres hermosa y que no puedo sacarte de mi cabeza?”
She blinks, then bursts out laughing. “Okay, I only caught like... two words. Cabeza means head, right?”
“Yes.” I nod, fighting a grin.
“What did you say?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Nothing important.”
“Come on, tell me!”
“Nope,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road. “You gotta earn that translation.”
No way I’m telling her I just said she’s beautiful and that I can’t get her out of my head.
She groans and laughs at the same time. “Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“Some might say I’m the best at being the worst.”
The banter is easy. Too easy. And as we pull into the restaurant’s parking lot, I realize I’m already forgetting the whole point of tonight.
Focus, Esteban. This is business.
The restaurant is classier than the bistro, white tablecloths, valet parking, the whole nine yards. We’re early, which is perfect.
I lead Eva inside, and they seat us at a table near the back. A few minutes later, Noah and Josy walk in. Josy heads straight for Eva with a big smile and wraps her in a hug. Noah, on the other hand, walks over to me like a cop ready to interrogate someone. He gives Eva a kiss on the cheek and says hello before sitting beside me, his eyes sharp.
Great. Can’t wait for the overprotective big brother vibes tonight.
But for now, I take a deep breath, let myself glance at Eva one more time and remind myself that this is all pretend.
