Page 30 of Out of Control

“And I’ve never hidden from you that he’s not good enough for you.”

“No one’s good enough for me in your eyes so that falls on deaf ears.”

“I’m serious, Sofia.”

“So let me get this straight, you’re so concerned who I may or may not find attractive that you’re watching me?” What the fuck?

“No, I’m concerned that you’re going to act on that attraction and embarrass our family name.”

Wow. That was a zinger if ever I’ve been given one.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Do I sound serious?”

“No, you sound like an asshole, but I guess I can forgive you for that . . . eventually.”

He sighs, lifts his hat, and runs his hand through his hair. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean that.”

I twist my lips and stare at him. “In case you forgot, I’m a grown woman, capable of making decisions for myself.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, irritation etched in the lines of his expression.

“Excuse me?”

“Exactly what I said. You’re a grown woman. Your mistakes aren’t looked at or as easily forgiven as they would be, say if you were a teenager.”

“My mistakes?” I laugh out.

“You are in the public eye.”

I stare at my brother like he’s just grown two heads. This asshole thinks he has a foot to stand on when it comes to looking pristine in the public’s eye?

“Wait a second.” I hold a hand up. “I’m old enough to keep our family together. To be the one you call to manage Papá or Mamá or give advice on how to best win back Maddix, but I’m not old enough to make choices for myself?”

His sigh is heavy and the only answer I need to know. Yep, I nailed that on the head.

“What is it exactly that Rossi did to you that you feel the need to continuously warn me away from him?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. His voice is even with a hint of reticence. “We expect better for our family.”

I bark out a laugh. “Oh, so you can fuck around all you want, party it up and have photos posted online in every damn tabloid, be the playboy you once were—go slumming so to speak—but I can’t?” Is he really serious, right now?

“We’re Navarros. We have a reputation to uphold. A certain—”

“Jesus Christ, Cruz. I thought we were on the same team with this. That we’re who we are and that we’re going to live our lives accordingly. When did you turn into Papá or el patriarca with this bullshit?”

I know my words hurt him, but he hurt me too.

“I’m not Papá.”

“No? Because it sounds like you are. You can screw up all you want yet I’m supposed to be perfect?”

“Not perfect. Just not with him.”

“But why?”

“He’s selfish,” Cruz spits out.