Tessa drifts off on a tangent about her love of everything enemies-to-lovers, filling in some of the gaps for Trav about the tension all of us know exists between Em and Carter.
When she’s done once again claiming how she called Kay and Mason’s relationship from the start, Tessa plops down beside me with enough force to cause movement in the springs of the floor. “Now for you…”
Again, I chance a glance at Kay, who only gives me a Sorry, not even I can control her headshake but follows it up with a Listen to her chin tilt.
I make a rolling motion with my hand, and Tessa links her hands together, cracking her knuckles. If we could bottle even an ounce of her confidence, we’d be billionaires.
“Now…I’m not saying I don’t love the little love notes in disguise you have going on…”
I hide a chuckle behind my hand. That’s a new description I haven’t used before.
“But…you’ve been neglecting the most powerful tool at your disposal.”
The hairs on my arms stand on end. “Why am I afraid to ask what you think that is?”
“Because you’ve met her.” Jaws drop, not at the unexpected comment—that’s factually accurate—but at who the source of it is. Olly blinks at suddenly having eight sets of eyes on him.
Yeah, I know how that feels, buddy.
“I don’t care if you’ll be my sorta brother-in-law someday”—the point of Tessa’s finger is aggressive as all get-out—“your colorful commentary is not needed, mmkay?”
“Jesus, T.” Kay buries her face against Mason’s chest. “We haven’t even been dating for a full year. Slow your roll.”
“And they did break up once, sooo…” Trav lets his sentence trail off with a What are you gonna do? shrug.
Mason flips him off. “Asshole.”
“You shut your mouth, quarterback.” Tessa goes practically feral. “And”—she whips her head back to Kay—“if you two”—she Vs her fingers to now include Mason—“aren’t married by the time I graduate from college, I’ll eat my cheer bow.”
“Why does it always feel like we’re having five conversations at once when we’re together?” I ask, but that warm feeling of rightness from being reunited with my people cocoons the moment. This is what I needed today. I needed our ridiculousness to wash away my melancholy.
“Because we usually are,” Livi confirms, dodging Trav’s attempt to pull her in for a noogie.
Tessa double finger guns her, and then once again, I’m back to being her focus. “Anyway…” She sighs. “You gotta use your newfound forced proximity to your advantage. The notes are a good way to build that foundation of friendship CK has always stayed on the fringes of forming with you, but…now you need to remind him you’re a woman.”
“I’m pretty sure CK’s well aware I’m a woman.” I grab my more-than-a-handful boobs—thanks to the Bautista genes I inherited from Mamá —and give them a jiggle. “The issue is he doesn’t want…” I finish my incomplete sentence with an All this wave of a hand down the length of my body.
Deep-rooted insecurity causes my throat to thicken with emotion, and it’s harder to swallow it down than I would like. It’s not about my appearance. One benefit of Mamá’s mantra about using one’s looks is that it has bolstered a healthy body image. If only it didn’t come at the expense of my self-esteem. Her tunnel vision became the ideal breeding ground for all the other ways I didn’t measure up to fester.
Who knows? Maybe if I was more than just a pretty cheerleader, CK would be on a date with me right now and not some mystery girl.
Sagged against the elevator wall, I watch the digital dial count off the floors on the way up to the penthouse. My body is drained, but my heart is close to bursting like it is any time I leave The Barracks.
Some of that feeling can be credited to the time I got to spend playing around stunting with my friends, but it’s mostly from the hours before helping coach NJA’s athletes. Sure, the job is cheerleading, but there’s nothing like being valued for your expertise to make someone feel validated.
The ding announcing I’ve reached my destination has a mild buzz of apprehension forming beneath my skin. A part of me wonders if I made a mistake by not accepting Kay’s offer to stay at her family home for the night, but I shake that thought off before it gets the chance to fully form.
Rolling my sore shoulders back, I stride out of the elevator with a confidence I don’t wholly feel, but I am all about manifesting with a positive mental attitude. A Fake it till you make it approach has served me well for almost twenty-one years; why put a stop to it now?
Eager to wash away the dried sweat coating my skin, I make a beeline for the bathroom.
All thoughts of a shower hotter than Texas in July immediately cease the second I spot the light spilling from beneath CK’s bedroom door.
What’s he doing home?
Changing direction, I don’t stop until the tips of the flip-flops I switched my cheer shoes out for butt against the wood of the door.
Lifting a hand to knock, I hesitate, my arm hovering in the air long enough to feel the strain in my already fatigued muscles.
Hazlo, Quinn.
Knock-knock.
I wait…
And then wait some more.
Did he not hear me knock? Does he have his headphones on?
Pressing my ear to the door, I hear the soft hum of his television playing.
Okay…so probably no headphones—
The door swings open unexpectedly, and since my body is pressed against it like a starfish on a fish tank, I go with it, falling to the ground with a grunt.
My cheeks burn as I flail around.
“Quinn?” CK stares down at me like he’s not exactly sure what he’s seeing.
Can’t say I blame him. I’ve gone from starfish to turtle stuck on its back. Awesome.
He pushes his glasses higher on his nose and…
Oh my god! Did I just sigh? Sonofa—
Grr, I can’t help it. It’s such a simple action, one I’m sure he does countless times throughout the course of any given day, but man, it does things to my lady parts.
Straightening my legs and crossing them at the ankles, I prop myself up and lean back on my elbows.
Oh, great. Now I probably look like I’m sunbathing. Because that’s not weird or anything, seeing as it’s nighttime…oh…yeah…and I’m inside.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
Was that—
Did he—
Oh my god, that rumbly sound was CK chuckling at me.
If I had any doubt about if my humiliation has my ears playing tricks on me, the twinkle in his baby blues confirms my suspicions. Guess this is the price I pay for him growing more comfortable around me.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” I snap, practically accusing the poor guy as the culmination of the day’s events procreates with my growing mortification. “I thought you had a date?” I hiss. I motherfluffing hiss like a damn feral alley cat.
All playfulness disappears as CK’s expression falls, his eyes dimming, his mouth pulling down into a frown. There’s a pained pinch between his brows as they dip below his frames, and the way his body seems to curl in on himself cracks a piece of my heart.