I tug my boyfriend toward the front of the bar. “Comeremind me what I see in you.” When I look back, I see Nico watching me, grinning. He thinks we’ve gotten away with something. That I might come back for more.
He’s the fool.
Holden and I get a dark booth near the door. His hands are everywhere. He needs to be in control of this moment, so I let him think he is, and the making up is so good I almost want to pick another fight, just so we can do it all over again.
This is what I like best about him. Holden’s temper runs hot, but so does the rest of him. When I have his full attention, it’s like we’re on fire. Nico was added fuel for the flames.
“Why do you push my buttons?” Holden murmurs against my neck.
I tilt my head back to give him better access. “What are buttons for, if not to be pushed?”
Holden groans, and his mouth trails lower.
Over his shoulder I watch Ryan coax the bartender out from behind the bar.
“Corazón, you don’t drink and you can’t dance!” Paola calls as she follows him, hips swaying. “What do you have to offer a woman?”
“Come find out ...” My cousin backs onto the dance floor, his hips twitching in his best imitation of salsa dancing. I laugh. He actually has rhythm—he plays the drums—but his body doesn’t seem to know that.
Holden works his way up my neck again, and I’mbreathing hard by the time he gets to my mouth. “I didn’t get a very good look at that back hall,” he murmurs against my lips as his hand slides up my leg. “Why don’t you show me what I’ve been missing?”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes from my purse. I pull it out and glance at the text on my screen.
Why aren’t you in the Bahamas? Call me THIS INSTANT.
Holden frowns while I type. “Who’s that?”
Don’t worry. No pasa nada. Besos.
“I’ll show you my texts when you show me yours.” He doesn’t need to know it’s just my dad checking up on me.
Holden’s brows rise, as if I’ve just laid down a challenge. He reaches for my phone, but then Maddie slides into the booth across the table, saving us both from a scene I was almost looking forward to making.
“We need to get Neda out of here,” my cousin says. “She’s drunk.”
“We’re all drunk,” Holden points out.
“But the rest of us haven’t decided to parade stunning cultural ignorance and a shockingly thick wad of cash down Cartagena’s unlit back streets in the middle of the night.” Maddie’s disgusted huff hints at reemerging sobriety. “But that’s no surprise, considering Neda still thinks she’s in Cart-a-gee-na.”
I follow her pointed gaze to see Neda stagger as Samuel leads her toward the exit. She doesn’t even notice when she drips tequila on her twelve-hundred-dollar sandals.
I wave at Ryan and nod in their direction. He says a polite farewell to Paola and joins us. “I’ll take her, you take him,” I whisper as I slide across the patched and sticky booth.
“Hey, does Paola work tomorrow night?” Ryan says as we sandwich them. When Samuel turns to answer, I ease Neda from his grip with one hand and take her drink from her with the other.
“Where are we going?” she asks as Holden opens the door for us.
“Home.” I set her glass on an empty table.
Neda looks confused. “Back to Miami?”
Maddie grabs Neda’s purse and rolls her eyes. “Yes. Click your heels together and say, ‘There’s no place like my ten-bedroom beachfront estate.’”
Outside, the lights are few and far between, and the street is nearly empty. There are no tourists here. No street vendors. I turn to ask Holden to call for a car, but he already has his phone pressed to his ear, giving our location to the car service.“Aquí en cinco minutos, extra de cien.”In his sad, broken Spanish, he’s offered the driver an extra hundred if he’s here in five minutes. He doesn’t like Nico’s neighborhood.
“I wanna stay.” Neda’s speech is slurred and her steps are the slushy scrape of sandals against pavement. “Samuel and I were—”
“Don’t run out on me, Neda.” Ryan slides one arm around her waist, taking most of the burden off me. “It’s not every day I get to walk with a gorgeous model on my arm,micorazón. I’m drunk on your beauty.”
