“Wiser, too,” he snaps before turning to Faith. “How old are you, Faith?”
She stares at him, contemplating her answer, no doubt. Finally, she blushes in that way I’ve learned only Faith does—her entire face pinkening, eyes darting away in attempt at hiding, before she says, “Old enough. Age is just a number anyways.”
I almost burst out laughing at her snub.
“You're no fun.” Valentina takes a hesitant sip of her drink before nodding. “But this is strong, so you can stay.”
“Gee, thanks.” Faith watches McCrae, waiting for him to drink, the tension shimmering between them. The question is, can Valentina see it?And does it cut her as badly as I hope it does?
McCrae takes a deep drink. “It’s, uh, refreshing.”
Grinning, I wink at Faith and lean in closer to loudly whisper, “If they’re half as sweet as you, I’ll have the worst fucking hangover tomorrow.” And then, I take a gulp, the heat of more than one glare burning across my skin.
It’s almost too easy, provoking Valentina and McCrae—they like to act like they’re mysterious, but they both wear their hearts on their sleeves. Valentina wants Faith’s attention, even if she doesn’t know it, and she want’s McCrae’s obsession, even if he refuses to give it. McCrae wants Valentina’s happiness, even if he can’t be the one to give it to her, and he wants Faith’s…everything,even if he refuses to admit it.
Me? I want to take them all down, and nothing and no one will get in my way.
So, I drink, savoring the tequila and lime like the promise of another sunny day.When I crawl my way out of this darkness, I’ll find another sunny day.
“Can we sit down? This is fucking weird.” Valentina slumps into the couch, taking another drink as she waits. Faith follows her, her little dress swishing as she does.
I decide to go in for the kill, knowing McCrae’s too much of a coward to do or say anything about it. “You look adorable, by the way, Faith.” I look over at McCrae as he slowly sinks into the chair to the right of her. “Wouldn’t you say, McCrae?”
He shoots me a murderous glare, his knuckles white around his glass.
“McCrae doesn’t give compliments,” Valentina states, her eyes downcast. There’s hurt in her voice, and I feel like I’ve won the fucking lottery. Instead of dropping it like a decent man would, I continue, “Come on, McCrae?—”
Faith cuts me off. “Did you guys have any big Friday night plans, or is this it?”
“I was going to have a bath.” Valentina shrugs.
“They’re boring around here. Glad you came along. We needed something exciting to happen.” I wink again.
“Let’s play a game.” Faith sets her glass down, ignoring each of my advances. If I was truly interested, I’d be wounded.
“Not happening,” V groans. “Santos is just going to try and get me drunk again.”
“Don’t hate the player,” I tease, even though she has every reason to hate me.
She just doesn’t know it.
“What are you guys talking about?” McCrae grumbles.
“The night Valentina crashed the truck—” I snap my mouth closed beneath Valentina’s glare.
“How about a different game,” Faith suggests, but I shake my head.
“No way! McCrae didn’t play with us last time, and he owes us some answers.”
“Fine. What is it?”
Delighted by McCrae’s willingness when it comes to Faith, I say, “Twenty questions. We take turns asking someone a question, and if they choose not to answer, they have to drink.”
“I’ll go first.” Faith looks at me in challenge, and I raise my hands. “Okay, McCrae: what’s your favorite childhood memory?”
He chews it over for several moments, his eyes far off as he contemplates. Then, he leans forward, his elbows resting his knees. “When I was ten-ish, I think, my brother, my parents, and I went to the beach. It was a favorite spot of theirs, near the Padre Islands, but a little more locals only, if you know what I mean.” He focuses on a spot on the floor.
“Gus’s always been a monster, causing trouble and what not. He was five then, and went missing, which wasn’t anything new. He liked attention—still does. The bastard just pretends he doesn’t.” He takes a sip of his drink. “We found him in the women's locker room of all places, just sitting on the bench, watching all the women change.‘I wanted to see their butts naked,’he said, and my mother, bless her, just laughed. She wasn’t the angry type, always patient with us even when we didn’t deserve it.”
