"Bro," I say, dragging a hand through my hair, "are you seriously still mad at me?"
He drops the tub with a loud bang that rattles the floor and straightens up, turning to face me. His eyes are practically burning a hole through me. "Yes. Why would I just forget that you were kissing and touching my baby sister last night?"
I cross my arms and meet his glare. "You know all of that was fake, right? This whole thing was your sister’s idea. I don’t get why you’re acting like this. Eva’s not a little kid anymore, she offered to help me."
Noah steps closer, his fists clenching at his sides. "She is helping you with the problem thatyoucreated all by yourself because you can’t control the shit that comes out of your mouth," he snaps.
Wow. He’sreallymad.
I lean against the exposed wooden frame of the wall and sigh. "Look, I get it. You’re her brother. You want to protect her. But nothing happened, man. I’m not some asshole trying to mess with her." At least, not intentionally.
The thought of last night, the way Eva smiled at me, the way her perfume clung to my clothes, flickers through my mind, and I shove it down fast.
"I’m serious," I add, keeping my voice steady. "Eva's safe with me. You know that."
Noah doesn’t say anything at first, his jaw ticking like he's grinding his teeth.
"Esteban, the way she looks at you... it's different," he says, locking eyes with me, his voice low and serious. "I just don’t want her to get hurt. I know you. You have no intention of having a relationship with her, so please, don't get her hopes up."
His words hit harder than I expect. What if I did want to have a relationship with her? Would he be this mad at me? And what does he mean she looks at me differently?
She was just acting, playing her part, same as me. Right?
I force a casual shrug, even though my chest tightens a little. "I'm pretty sure what you saw were your sister’s incredible acting skills," I say, giving him a half-smirk. "I wouldnever hurt her, Noah. You know me better than that. We’ve just... become friends. She’s cool. She laughs at my dumb jokes and calls me out when I'm being an idiot."
I push off the wall, needing to move, to do something with the restless energy crawling under my skin. "I just want her to have a great time while we’re fake engaged. That’s it."
But even as the words leave my mouth, they feel like a lie. Because the truth is, if I had it my way, there wouldn’t be anything fake about the way I feel when I look at her.
Noah wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He steps closer, his expression serious, brotherly protectiveness radiating off him.
"I’m serious, Esteban," he says quietly. "I don’t care how cool you two have gotten. Keep her at arm's length. She’s been through enough shit already, and I’m not about to watch you mess her up, even if it’s by accident."
I nod, the weight of his words pressing against my chest. "I hear you, bro. I promise."
But as I turn away, grabbing a crowbar off the floor and focusing on prying loose a stubborn tile, my mind won't stop spinning.
Keep her at arm’s length.
Right. That should be easy.
I mean, this is just some weird, short-lived arrangement. We’re pretending to be engaged for a stupid business deal. In a few weeks, it’ll be over, and we’ll go back to normal.
It’s just infatuation, that's all it is. A little crush because she’s gorgeous, funny, and has this smile that knocks the air right out of my lungs if I’m not careful. Nothing serious.
I’m not about to screw up my friendship with Noah—my best friend, my brother—for a woman. Not even forher.
I jam the crowbar under another tile and wrench it free with more force than necessary.
Yeah. I’ll keep my distance. No matter how badly every part of me wants to do the exact opposite.
Chapter Fifteen
Eva
It’s been days since that dinner, and I still can’t get Esteban out of my head.
I’ve tried, believe me. I’ve buried myself in work, organized and reorganized every shelf at the salon, I organized Ashton’s product on the display, and even deep-cleaned the breakroom fridge. Yet he keeps showing up in my thoughts. The way he looked at me that night like I was the only one in the room. The way he leaned in close, brushed my hair behind my ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. The feel of his lips on my cheek still lingers like a stamp no amount of scrubbing can erase.
