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“This.” I motioned between us. “Pretending to date me. Being in the public eye for a relationship that isn’t real.” The truck idled at a red light, the low rumble of the engine adding to the radio. I took the chance to look at her. The dim light from the dashboard and streetlamps barely illuminated her frown. “It’s not real, Itzel. It can’t be real, so if there’s any part of you that was hoping to fall in love⁠—”

“I won’t.” She said it with more force than I’d experienced from her all night. “Chella told me the rules, and even if that hadn’t been one of them, I wouldn’t fall for you. That’s not why I’m doing this, anyway.” She turned away, staring out the passenger window at the line of cars crawling forward.

Shit.

The leather steering wheel creaked under my fingers. My jaw locked so tight it ached.

“Look, I didn’t mean to offend you or to insinuate that you’d even be interested in me like that, it’s just…” I paused, rubbing a hand down my face. “I’ve had a lot of people during my career try to take advantage of me. And I’m⁠—”

“Apology accepted.”

The lump in my throat subsided.

Curiosity ate at me. From the little I knew about Itzel, being in the public eye seemed like the opposite of anything she’d be interested in.

“Can I ask you why you are doing this, then?”

“Well, it pays well,” she said with a chuckle before sighing. The blue glow from the dash highlighted how her shoulders curled inward as she studied her hands. “But the real reason is that I am kind of hoping…”

Seconds ticked by.

“You were hoping?”

“There’s someone who’s never noticed me while I was available, and I was kind of hoping he’ll notice me now that I’m not,” she rushed out, head tucked so low her chin was bound to leave an indentation on her sternum.

“You took the job to make someone jealous?”

She nodded, cheeks flame red. “I know it’s stupid. Do you think I’m pathetic for wanting someone who doesn’t want me?”

Hell, I was the pathetic one. The entire night, all I could picture was glossy lips that loved to tell me off and that soft, tawny skin that constantly tempted me to touch it.

Graciella stole my attention even when not around.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” I said finally, glancing at her. “And I don’t think you’re pathetic. Men are stupid. Look, I know nothing about him. But not making a move on you may have nothing to do with not liking you. Sometimes guys have their own hang-ups on shit that gets in their way, and they need to be shown what they really want.”

“Do you?” she asked, as my truck rolled up to a row of well-kept older homes with their porch lights shining bright. “I just mean, I’m sure you can get a girlfriend—like a real one. So the fact that we’re doing this must be because you don’t want one.” She waited for my answer, hand poised on the handle.

“It’s complicated,” I grunted, memories of Graciella’s back pressed against my chest invading my mind.

Itzel nodded, pushing the car door open. The cab light flicked on, revealing the sincerity in her eyes. “Well, maybe this will show you what you really want, too.”

That thought lingered the whole drive home.

SIXTEEN

GRACIELLA

APPARENTLY THOSE SLUTTY HIP V THINGS ARE ALSO CALLED “CUM DUMPSTERS.” AND I THINK THAT’S BEAUTIFUL.

Goldie claimed she couldn’t sleep without freshly baked cookies. Sounded reasonable enough to me, which was why I was pushing the most güerita-looking child around a store.

That, and I needed a distraction so I’d stop checking my phone every two seconds.

“Okay, now spell it for me,” I said, dropping another tub of birthday cake icing into the cart.

“G-o-l-d-i-e.”

“Way to go, girl!”