She likes to see if anyone is coming and doesn’t like the idea of anyone sneaking up on her. With five of us here, her fear of being trapped outweighs her fear of being taken off guard.
“So, how far are you guys?” Felix asks, pulling Cecilia’s notebook across the table and skimming her notes. We spend the next hour over the table, bouncing ideas off one another. At first, it’s annoying. I don’t like sharing Cecilia’s time, let alone her attention.
How am I supposed to get her back with everyone else serving as a distraction?
But the longer we work together, the more she visibly relaxes. Felix teases her every time she scowls, flicking her nose and reminding her that’s how she’ll get wrinkles. And each time he says it, she laughs. Cecilia’s only twenty-one. Wrinkles aren’t something she cares about, but she admonishes him, nonetheless.
Atticus asks her all sorts of questions about our topic. He seems genuinely interested and does a good job playing Devil’s Advocate, forcing us to think outside of the box to counter his arguments.
Deacon just watches us all at first. He’s still settling into the soccer house, but he’s comfortable enough. There’ve been a few times that I've caught him eyeing Cecilia with interest, but each time that he does, I make sure to catch his gaze and give him a warning look.
He dips his chin. An acknowledgment that she’s off limits.
I get why he’s interested. Any guy would be a fool not to be. She’s fucking beautiful. Her dark brown hair reaches past her shoulders and is complimented by her equally dark brown eyes.
She’s in great shape, thin but with a flare to her hips and the perfect sized tits. Not that Deacon would know that since Cecilia’s typical outfit includes an oversized tee and ripped baggy jeans. Which is good. Because if I caught him ogling her in her swimsuit or if the fucker ever caught a glimpse of her naked, I’d need to gouge his eyes out.
Cecilia’s thinner than what’s considered healthy for someone her size, but not so thin that she looks malnourished. The weight loss is a result of her trauma. She forgets to eat, but I don’t think it’s intentional. At least, I hope it isn’t. It’s been a minute since I’ve really had to worry about her being depressed, but … I don’t know. Things changed.
Frowning, I take in her appearance, gauging whether or not there’s a reason for me to be concerned. I should have paid closer attention since the split. Obviously it’s had some sort of effect on her, even with her being the one to break things off.
How did I miss that?
I get up from my seat and pull out the bowl ofcampechana—aMexican shrimp cocktail—Julio made the other day, along with some tortilla chips. The locally made kind where the salt and oil coats the tips of your fingers when you eat them and they come in a large clear bag. None of that Tostitos bullshit. Freaking Frito-Lay chips. They’re not even a Mexican owned company.
If Cecilia is losing too much weight, there’s an easy way to rectify that.
“Oh, sweet!” Atticus says as soon as I set the bowl in the middle of the table. “I thought you guys ate all of it last night.”
Both Deacon and Cecilia eye the bowl curiously as Atticus uses a chip to scoop up some of the shrimp and vegetables.
“On a plate,” I admonish as I grab a stack of paper plates and a serving spoon.
“My bad,” he mumbles around a mouthful of food before releasing a groan. “So good.”
Spooning a portion onto a plate, I set it in front of Cecilia before serving myself some.
“What is it?” she asks, leaning forward to take a small sniff.
“You’ve never hadcampechana?” Felix asks her.
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
Felix whistles. “You’ve been missing out.” He grins. “After you try Julio’scampechana, you won’t know how you survived without it in your life. The only one of us with better cooking skills than J is Gabriel but you’ll have to come around more often if you want some of his cooking. The fucker is stingy and doesn’t make meals for us often.”
Reclaiming my seat beside her, I take a bite of my own food, hoping it’ll encourage her to do the same. She takes a tentative taste and we all watch for her reaction.
“Oh, my God.” We all grin at her response.
“Good, yeah?” Atticus asks as he elbows Deacon. “Bro, try it.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but after watching Cecilia take a few more bites, he shrugs and goes for it.
“Okay, this is hella good.”
“Right!” Felix confirms. “Wait until you try Gabe’s gorditas. They’re to die for.”
Rolling my eyes, I throw a napkin at his head. “You haven’t had those in ages,” I tell him.
