His mouth fell slightly open.
I flushed.Dammit, I’d been doing so well with these.“Is—I mean, you should see yourself, really.Just the way you—”
“Shhh,” he interrupted, eyes flashing.“Can we do that one now?”
I sighed.“Diego, you’resick.”
“I’m horny.”
“And you’ll still be horny tomorrow.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Everyone knows that, but especially me.”
“I fucking hate Kacey.She ruins everything.Everything.All I want is to get fucked while watching myself in the goddamn mirror, but noooooo, someone has to come to my goddamn birthday dinner while sick with the motherfuckingplague, and—”
I laughed as he ranted, glad to see he was coming back to his normal, salty self so quickly after having, you know.The plague.
Chapter 15: TARAN
“Finally!”Momopenedherarms to Diego before he was even in the door.“Thank you for coming!”
“Thanks for the invite.”He gave her a good hug, smiling his most charming, gap-toothed smile.
She admired him for a second as they pulled apart, then said, “God, youarehandsome.”
“And I see where Taran gets his looks,” he said smoothly.
“Everyone says he looks like his father,” she said.
“Mmm, no.Those eyes are all you, Mrs.Kovacs.”
“Sweet talker, huh?”She turned to me for a hug.“Hi, honey.”
I kissed her cheek.“Hey.”
“Nice place,” Diego said, eying her cozy living room.“Didn’t know we had fancy condos in Stanley County.Very cosmopolitan."
"Did you ever visit the old house?”Mom asked as we pulled apart.
I caught the glance Diego shot me.And laughed.
“What?”Mom asked, looking from me to him.
“I did,” Diego said.“Once.It was beautiful; you must’ve had to scale down a lot.”
Mom was still looking at me sideways.“Yeah, but I like organizing and simplifying.It’s a hobby of mine.”
“Should introduce you to my mom.Last time I was at her place, she needed a whole room for her oracle cards and pendulums,” Diego commented with a snort.“She needs to switch hobbies.”
“Tell me about her,” Mom suggested, waving for us to come into the kitchen-slash-dining room.“I don’t think I ever met her.”
“She left when I was really little.She’s cool, though, just one of those people who isn’t meant to be, uh, tied down.”Diego’s smile was lopsided, but it still showed off his gap and crinkled the corners of his pretty eyes.“I usually visit for Christmas or something.”
“That sounds lovely.”I could see Mom trying not to be judgy, the upper-middle-class white feminist in her just dying to break free and go full Karen.But instead she went to the fridge and asked, “Can I get you a drink?The quiche is almost ready.”
Diego shot me another look, biting at his bottom lip to keep from laughing.Much as I could feel her trying not to judge, I could hear him trying not to say how very, very white that was of her.
