“I don’t know how.” It’s a small admission, but it feels huge as the words leave my lips.
“Reach out to Mateo—just start there. I’ll help however you need me to.” She extends the bottle of tequila to me, bumping the butt against my bicep, and I give her a tentative nod. “Now, I saw Santos sniffing after you when I first got here. Where’d he slink off to? Are you guys fucking yet?”
“Faith!” I chide, pouring more than a healthy amount into the first glass, the golden liquid swirling over the ice cube in the center.
“What? It’s happening—I know these things.”
I motion for her to follow me to the couch; I need to sit if we’re going to talk about this.
“How?”
“How what?” She takes a small sip of the tequila, coughing almost instantly. “God, you drink this shit straight?”
“You brought it,” I scoff in defense, taking a sip myself. I pride myself in being an experienced drinker—very little gets my eyes watering anymore.
But this poison?I cough too, wheezing as it burns its way down my throat.
“What is this?” I finally gasp.
Faith breaks into a fit of giggles, wrapping an arm around her middle. “I don’t know. I stole it.”
“You, what?”
She takes another sip, this one larger. Her eyes water as she looks at me. “I stole it. Felt like being dangerous this evening.”
“I don’t get you.”
“Don’t change the subject. Where’s the hottie with the body?”
I breathe into my glass. “Don’t let McCrae hear you.”
We both panic, our eyes glueing together as silent understanding passes between us. It’s clear by her reaction the kiss means more than nothing. Still, I can’t find it in me to be mad—at least not mad enough to lose her over it.
“Uh—”
I feel the familiar chill of panic begin to settle over my bones, its presence my oldest friend. But instead of leaning into it like I’ve always done, I shy away, more afraid of losing thisrealfriend than I am of losing my dignity.
“Let’s just not,” I whisper, draining my tequila in a dramatic gulp, the burn in my stomach instant. Faith inhales, like she’s preparing for something more, but I stop her, switching lanes like the expert evader I am. “Can you teach me some basic self-defense moves?”
Faith’s mouth pops open and closed, her eyes glittering before she smirks. “You just want an excuse to touch Santos.”
“What’re you?—”
“Santos, get in here!” she shouts, her grin growing devilish as she stands.
He appears instantly, almost as if he was standing just around the corner. I glare at her but don’t stop her as she motions him over. He comes willingly, but his eyes bore into the side of my face as he walks toward her.
I try to ignore him.
I fail.
“Great! Now grab V.”
“What?” We say the word in unison, and I don’t know why, but I stick my tongue out at him. His eyes sharpen, and I instantly cringe.Am I fucking a love sick child or what?
“V, when he grabs you, show me how you’d get him off.”
I sigh but face Santos, waving my hand in a come here motion. He moves slowly, almost prowling, until he’s only inchesaway. He leans forward, whispering in my ear, “If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask.”
