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He frowned. “You’re not a hookup. Hookups are a one-time thing, twice at best.”
“We had sex twice, so that would still count.”
“But we intend to have more sex, so it wouldn’t.”
“Do intentions count as sex now? Because if they do, we had sex three times.”
He shook his head, laughing. “I can’t win an argument with you, can I? You’re way smarter than me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I don’t even have a college degree.”
“That has nothing to do with being smart or not.”
“Maybe, but you’re still smarter than me. That’s not putting myself down. Fir. That’s a simple statement of fact. Not only do you have way more formal education than I ever will, but you’re more intelligent. In different ways. Not just book-smart but you excel at reading people too. Like when I was sick and Tiago had to fill out those forms, you knew what I was worried about before I had to tell you. That’s emotional intelligence.”
I leaned back against the wall. “You’re giving me too much credit. I picked up on that because I’ve known about Tiago’s reading issues since elementary school, even if I didn’t know it was dyslexia. Of course I’d conclude he wouldn’t be able to fill out those forms.”
“So maybe that’s not the best example, but you pick up on a lot of stuff. Like, you knew I needed a listening ear at the wedding.”
“You were drunk off your ass and worried your brother was gonna get married next, leaving you on your own. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”
He let out a deep sigh. “Jesus Christ almighty, Fir, you really suck at accepting a compliment.”
I laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll do better. Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
“Well, I’d never have guessed with all the protesting you did.”
“Again, sorry. I’ll try harder.”
“You don’t think you’re good at reading people?”
I hesitated. “That’s not it. Yes, I’m good at it…but so are you. You have finely honed social skills, and you always have. Even back in school, you were the one who got along with everyone. I don’t think there’s anyone who hated you.”
His expression had grown serious. “And what did that get me? A career as a model. Not a job that requires a lot of intelligence.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said sharply. “I know you’re struggling with some choices you have to make, but don’t lie to yourself. What you and Tiago do is hard. There’s nothing easy about it, and you said so yourself in the documentary that was released a few years ago.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “You watched that?”
I fought to keep the heat out of my cheeks. “Everyone in town did. Hell, they organized group screenings in the community center so people could watch together.”
“Is that where you watched it?”
Of course I hadn’t. I’d watched it in the privacy of my bedroom, on my laptop so I could see Tomás so close and personal it felt like he’d been in the room with me. Not even two years after Samuel had died, it had given me a strange sense of comfort. “It doesn’t matter where I watched it. The ads for it were everywhere, so even if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to escape it. But it was a good documentary, and my point is that it showed how hard you two work and how much skill and talent it takes to do what you do, on top of maintaining your looks.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”
I laughed. “Is that you teaching me how to take a compliment again?”
His self-satisfied grin proved I’d been right. “That thought may have crossed my mind. You seem to have a hard time remembering.”
“Point taken, okay?”
He sobered. “I’m scared, Fir. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what’s next, and it terrifies me. Who am I if I’m not a famous model anymore?”
“Hey,” I said gently, touching his hand reassuringly. “It’s natural to feel scared and uncertain now that so much is changing. But you’re more than your career, Tomás. You have so many other qualities that make you who you are.”
