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“This is my house.”

The words come out too sharp.

“I understand,” he says. “Still, we should step outside. Let’s go to the courtyard and call Rafael. We can wait at my place until this is figured out.”

Before I can respond, something thumps softly from the patio side of the house. We both turn.

A shadow crosses behind the glass. Large. Male.

For one suspended second, all I see is shape. Broad shoulders. Wet skin. Dark swim trunks clinging at the hips and thighs. Sunlight behind him creating a silhouette.

Don makes a small, scared sound.

The silhouette reaches for the towel on the chair and wraps it around its waist.

It turns to the door. The glass slides open.

The man steps inside, and my heart stops being useful.

Clint.

For half a second, my mind refuses him. Can’t arrange the pieces quickly enough.

Not here. Not in Mexico. Not wet and half-naked in my living room.

His eyes find mine.

Water beads at his collarbone. The towel sits low on his hips. His hair is damp and darker than usual, his skin flushed from the pool.

My throat closes. Every cell in my body is dissolving into my shoes.

The mouth I watched smile at private messages I should never have sent. The body I have wanted with the safety of distance.

The distance is gone.

He looks from me to Don, then back to me. He smiles—wide, bright, too familiar—and says in a terrible Kentucky-laced accent, “¡Bienvenidos a México, chicos!”

My mouth opens.

I can’t think of a single sentence that doesn’t begin or end with a lie.

Chapter seventeen

Uninvited Guests

Clint

For one beautiful second, nobody says anything.

I stand there dripping on the tile with a towel around my waist, Paul Benton frozen near the kitchen, and his skinny friend from the party staring at me like he just opened a closet and found a scary clown inside.

Not ideal, but not the worst audience I’ve had.

“¡Bienvenidos a México, chicos!”

When cornered, those three weeks of Duolingo really kick right in.

Paul Benton, from what little I’ve seen, seems like the type of guy who has sentences custom-crafted and ready for any situation. Even at the pool party, surrounded by drag queens, half-naked guests, and me intentionally turning his backyard into a problem, he spoke like every word had been vetted and confirmed.