Page 78 of On The Edge

“What?” I cough the word out. She’s fucking crazy.

“You’re here when normally you wouldn’t give a rat’s ass. You’re here to stick it to Papá. I mean this whole dating thing is a farce between you two and yet you’re using it as a fuck you to him.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m right.” Her grin reminds me of when we were little and she’d threaten to tell Papá I had done something wrong unless I caved to her demands. “You gave Esmerelda the cold shoulder when normally you’re at least cordial to her. You made sure to be with el patriarca every chance you got to rub it in Papá’s face. And you entertained questions about Maddix from everyone when normally you’d change the subject. So yeah, there was a reason for you showing up here and it wasn’t because you wanted some homestyle cooking. It was because you wanted to use this whole charade to your advantage. Wanted to use Maddix yet again.”

“Hmm,” I say as I take a sip of wine and opt for that to be my only response. Is that what I’m doing? Using Maddix yet again for my own selfish needs?

“Cruz?” I can feel the weight of her stare but ignore her. “This is all a farce, right? You two aren’t sleeping . . .” Her eyes meet mine and they widen slowly as she reads whatever she sees in mine. “Oh my God, you two are.” She swats at me. Hard. “Eres un cabrón.” Yep, I’m an asshole.

“Hey.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say shit.”

“And here I thought I was going to like the hell out of her for putting up with you and being smart enough not to fall for your disgusting, bachelor bullshit. Ugh.” When I look her way, she has the look on her face when I used to try and convince her that earthworms were cool.

“Hey. No bad-mouthing Madds. There’s enough of that around here.”

“Madds? A nickname and he’s sticking up for her?” She raises her eyebrows. “But nothing is going on.” She snorts.

I stare at her as I figure out what to say. “We’re not . . . she’s not like that. Far fucking from it.” I chortle out a laugh riddled with the frustration I feel every time I see Maddix and know I can’t fucking have her. Mad at myself for feeling the need to defend her when . . . what am I defending her from? From my own reputation tainting her? From my sister painting her in an unfavorable light?

Does it fucking matter? Maddix doesn’t want me. She made that clear with her whole this is a mistake bullshit.

Bullshit. That’s exactly what it is though. I catch her staring at me. I feel her body soften when I touch her lower back. I see her nipples harden when I accidentally brush against her.

Sofia goes to open her mouth and then shuts it. Instead she angles her head to the side and simply studies me long and hard. A slow smile paints her lips. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You like her, don’t you?” Her eyes grow wide.

“I respect her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” She’s breathtaking.

“Of course she is.” Because that’s what’s expected of me.

“That’s not an answer, Cruz.”

“Back off, Sof.” Maddix is more than just gorgeous. She’s smart, sexy, funny, thoughtful. Everything a guy like me doesn’t deserve, and yet I still find myself wanting her. Yep. I’m the selfish bastard benefitting from all this while she’s hurting because of it. And yet, I still want her.

“And protective.” She smirks.

“She’s real. The realest person I’ve met in a long time. You’re right. She left a life behind for all this. She agreed to keep her job and get a raise. To try and better herself. I mean . . . I heard her on the phone fighting about deferring her student loan payments, and here I am living in the lap of luxury, never knowing anything different. So just leave her alone, because she’s already gotten enough shit from the media and online trolls and Papá.”

“So you’ve finally met a woman that you see as a person rather than just a sheet warmer to occupy your bed one night at a time?”

I slide her a dubious look. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at.”

“It’s okay to like someone, Cruz. It’s even more okay to want to defend them. And shock of all shocks, it’s okay to want something more from a woman than just sex. Companionship. Friendship. Support. Love.”

I blow out a breath. “It’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say.” She holds up her hands.

“It’s not.”

“You’re just living with a woman who could have easily stayed in a hotel, you show up here tonight to all but defend her honor, and you’re not bragging about any exploits with her like you normally would, but . . . it’s not like that.”