Page 102 of Bad Cruz


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“Dude!” Bear screamed, punching his joystick’s buttons with his thumb. “I’m a bastard.”

My throat clenched in horror, shame, and…yup, there it was, guilt, too, like I had a choice in the matter. I’d tried to shield Bear from this term for so long, had done my best to ensure he never felt less-than…

Cruz rolled his eyes, still staring at the TV as he moved his joystick from side to side. “If you’re looking for sympathy, better try next door. Here. I finished him off for you, n00b. Now let me trail back and find some life potions before I fucking expire.”

That finally made me snap out of the weird haze that had taken over me.

“Language!” I roared, slamming my purse against the credenza by the door. “This house is an F-bomb-free zone.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Cruz murmured, eyes still glued to the TV. He then threw Bear a side-eyed smirk. “Your mom’s cute.”

“Shut up, dude,” Bear snarled, hitting Cruz’s arm with his joystick.

Cruz chuckled. “Payback’s a b—witch.”

“What are you doing here?” I strode in and stood in front of the TV, blocking their view of medieval-looking characters in capes running through a dark maze while fire bombs landed all around them while they shouted at me being in the way.

“Well, I live here.” Bear threw up his arms in surrender, as if he wasn’t at fault for letting Cruz in.

“And I gave him a ride because I saw him walking with a broken skateboard under his arm while I was on my way back to work.”

“Yup.” Bear looked up at me innocently. “That happened, too.”

“How’d y’all get from Dr. Costello giving you a ride to Dr. Costello sitting on your couch, helping you stab a gory monster to death?”

Also, I so didn’t have any extra money for a new skateboard. Was I going to have to take out a loan?

I spun around to turn off the TV, aware Cruz’s eyes were probably focused on my ass. I was still mad at him for hanging out with Rob and calling Gabriella, and frankly, for simply hogging oxygen on a planet where our resources were slowly but surely dwindling.

Note to self: donate to an environmental charity when and if I get my bleep together and pay back my debt.

“Bear said he was hungry, so I offered to make him dinner.” Cruz smiled winningly, undeterred by my less-than-eager reception.

“Good news is Bear is not three anymore and can make his own food.”

“But it’s better when other people make it for you,” Bear pointed out.

“Which reminds me.” Cruz stood up, throwing the joystick on the couch. “I need to check on the pasta sauce and chicken nuggets. Be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” I volunteered.

We needed to exchange a word or seven.

In the kitchen, I closed the flimsy door behind us, trying to ignore the mouthwatering scent coming from the pot on the stovetop and focusing my gaze on him.

“What the heck, Cruz?”

“You’re not returning my calls,” he explained casually, dipping a finger into a pot full of tomato sauce and popping it into his mouth. He then proceeded to stir the sauce, before moving toward one of the cabinets with a familiarity I should have hated.

“That’s because we said we were done after the cruise.”

“About that. I changed my mind. I don’t want to be done after the cruise.” He moved around my kitchen like he owned the dang place, adding the pasta to the sauce and stirring everything.

“Sadly for you, it takes two to tango.”

“I’ll never tango with you, sweetheart. You’re one of the clumsiest people I’ve ever come across.”

“It’s a figure of speech. I don’t want to be with you.”

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