Jaime’s face contorted. He had never been close to wanting towed. “We were like twenty-two. I wasn’t ready to get married.” And for that matter, he still wasn’t. Would he ever be? He didn’t want to settle down like his brothers had. Ramón was so wrapped up in wedding planning and the catechism wedding classes, he didn’t have a second to himself. And Enrique wasn’t engaged yet, but Jaime had his suspicion he would be soon.
“Yeah, but they got married young. And they’re happy, but it was another time. Anyway, I’m going to take off. I’ll see you there.”
He lightly grabbed her wrist, electricity pulsing through his body. “Can I ride with you?”
He waited for her response.
She exhaled. “Fine.” She hoisted Tequila up and put her in the front seat. “Just have Santi follow us.”
Score.
“And put your shirt back on, for Christ’s sake.”
He smirked. He opened the door to Santi’s car.
“You finally done? Did she agree to go out with you?”
“Yes. Brunch next Sunday, but she won’t let me plan anything. I’m working on changing her mind about that. But she’s letting me ride with her to her parents’ house. Follow us?”
Santi nodded. “Sure. See you there.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.” Santi was the best friend—they had bonded at college over their love of craft beers and hiking, and Jaime had been there for Santi when his father died. Back in San Diego, Jaime had relied on his brothers for companionship, but now that they were so busy with their loves, Jaime often spent nights alone in his house, watching the ocean hit the rocks.
“Yeah, you do.”
Jaime pulled on his shirt, shut the car door, and went to the passenger seat of Alma’s Audi Q8 e-tron. It was a raspberry color.
“Nice car.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re going to say. But I love the color. It’s called Berry Pearl. Get in.”
Sí, Señorita.
Jaime placed her dog on the floor, slid into the seat next to her, but it felt odd. When they had been together, he had almost always driven, unless he had been drunk, and she’d been the designated driver. He resisted the urge to slide his hand over and squeeze her thigh.
Her pug put her paws on Jaime’s seat.
“You’re in her seat. She wants to look out the window.”
“Got it.” Jaime pulled her up to his lap, opened the window, and she stuck her enormous head out. The air blew in her face, causing sharp, light hairs to fly everywhere.
Alma blasted some Bad Bunny, and they drove through her old neighborhood. It seemed more run-down than he remembered. There were more homeless people milling around and some of the buildings didn’t look structurally sound. The only parts of this city that were newly painted were the bright graffiti on the freeway underpass.
A bunch of teens loitered near a store, roughing up some other punks.
“Has crime really increased here recently?”
“Honestly, yeah, it’s pretty bad. There are new gangs here from different countries fighting for turf domination. They killed some kid from the high school the other week,” she said casually.
Fuck. Were her parents even safe here anymore? Was Carlos? What about Alma when she visited?
Did Jaime even have a right to ask her those questions? No, hedidn’t. Especially because he couldn’t figure out a way to phrase them without coming off like a completely pretentious prick.
“That’s horrible. I don’t know what to say.”
Alma glared at him. “What, Jaime?”
“What do you meanwhat?”
