With his hand fisted and ready to go, Hector stared into the guy’s anxious eyes. He didn’t even care that they were in the middle of campus and this could get him in trouble. All Charlee had to say was anything remotely negative about what this guy had just said or done to her, and he’d make sure it was lights out for him again.
The guy spoke first. “I was just telling Charlee—”
“No! You don’t get to call her that,” Hector got in his face now, feeling the real need to punch something, and this guy’s face would do just fine. “You don’t get to call her anything, you disrespectful asshole!”
Charlee attempted to get in between them, but Hector wouldn’t budge. “I’m fine actually,” she said, sounding almost annoyed.
Hector turned to face her. Drew was there now too. Looking almost as irritated as Hector felt, Drew asked the very thing he was thinking, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Charlee said to Drew then turned to Hector. “We were just talking.”
The guy had backed up away from Hector the second he’d turned to face Charlee. She then turned to the guy and actually smiled. “I gotta go, but we can talk another time.”
“I look forward to it.” Ross said, attempting to sound cheery, but there was no masking the dread in his eyes. “And I’ll answer your question then.” He tipped his stupid hat at her, glancing at Hector just before turning around and walking away.
Hector’s mouth nearly fell open. “You’re seriously talking to this guy now?”
Charlee started walking, but Hector kept up walking alongside her. “What’s wrong with me talking to him? He’s apologized for what he did already—more than once. He wants to make things right. That’s all.”
Unfuckingbelievable! “That’s all? Really? Has he apologized to Walter too? Your friend—you know that one that ended up in the emergency room because he came to your rescue from this asshole and his friends?” His insides were on fire now. Was she really this stupid? Then it hit him, and he got in front of her, making her stop. “And exactly what question do you have for him?”
Her expression had changed from annoyed to a bit regretful when he mentioned Walter ending up in the emergency room. He hoped that meant she got how chicken shit this was of her to be hanging out with the dude now. But her expression went back to annoyed again. “That’s none of your business, now, is it?”
Suddenly this wasn’t about Walter anymore. Suddenly what he felt was more than just anger, and he didn’t even care how clear he was making that. “You into this guy, Charlee? Is that it? You’d actually consider something with that piece of shit?”
Her pink lips parted, but she said nothing. He was done. If he stood there for even another second, he might just spill his guts—tell her why he was really so ready to beat the shit out of this guy. Because seeing her standing there with him, having an obviously enjoyable conversation, had set him on fire, and he was ready to blow now. From what Walter had told him already about Charlee making excuses for the guy, he had a feeling what that might mean.
He started walking away before he could explode but then stopped and turned to her again. “You might wanna let Walter in on this shit; otherwise, he may still think you need saving from this prick.” She stared at him wide-eyed now. “You wouldn’t want him to end up in the emergency room again in case he sees you and your fucking little boyfriend snuggling up somewhere.”
Just the thought made him want to roar. He glanced at her friend Drew for a second, taking in the strange expression. She’d seemed just as irritated by Charlee moments ago. He wondered what the near smirk she wore now meant.
Without giving it another thought, he walked away before he spit out any more venom. He’d said enough. If she hadn’t figured it out already, she would if he stayed there and continued to let it all out.
Stalking through the parking lot now, he tried to make sense of everything. Charlee was not a stupid girl. He’d heard of people being book smart but dumb as rocks when it came to street smarts. That could very well be the case, but he still didn’t buy it. Shy girls that had the brains to get a full ride in college and did volunteer work for charity would have more respect for themselves.
So she let Hector kiss her at the party. That was different. They had a connection. He felt it. She certainly hadn’t been so keen about that other guy she’d been dancing with. He may’ve been a douche, but he wasn’t necessarily bad-looking. If she was really the type of girl she now wanted him to believe she was, then she would’ve just gotten friendly with thatguy.
As much as she appeared to be at ease with pretending nothing ever happened between them, Hector was beginning to think maybe that wasn’t the case—not entirely anyway. Since it’d been impossible to not stare at her like he did so often, there was no denying that she was having just as hard a time not looking his way. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but he was sure of it now. The irritation he thought he’d picked up on was loud and clear when she told him she was fine talking to the guy, even though she thanked Walter for saving her again just days ago. He picked up on it again when she’d told Hector it was none of his business. At the moment he’d been on fire—too wound up to put it together.
This actually calmed him now as he climbed into his truck. If that were the case, if she was, in fact, upset about him telling her to forget anything ever happened between them, then maybe that explained why she’d want him to believe she was really the kind of girl she made herself out to be. She didn’t want him to know she actually was upset about his dismissing the very special time they spent together that night. It was special, damn it. He’d go with that for now. It was easier to accept that than the alternative.
By the time he got home, he’d calmed down some. His theory made total sense. The only hole in it was one nagging thing: I’ll answer your question then. What the hell could she have asked him that she was so quick to say was none of Hector’s business? Was it possible she could actually have some interest in the dirtbag? The guy who’d made her scream so loudly that if she hadn’t, Hector never would’ve gone out of his way to see what was going on? No way.
“Mijito,” his mom called out when he walked in. “Come look!”
Hector walked through the small living room into the kitchen where his mother stood over the kitchen table, holding some papers. Abel sat at the table with a plate full of food, looking through the papers also.
“This one!” she said excitedly, holding a paper out to him. “This is the one I like.”
Hector took the paper from her. Now that Abel had signed such a huge deal, he was using the advance he got from it to buy their mom a house. Of course, she insisted they still live with her, and, for now, Hector wouldn’t have it any other way, only he couldn’t see himself bringing home girls to spend the night at his mom’s house. She was old-school and considered it disrespectful unless he was married, and Hector knew that wasn’t happening for years.
He smiled when he saw the pictures of the luxurious-looking home. “Damn, Abel! All this?”
Abel nodded then smiled at their mom. “Why not? Mom deserves it.”
“Ay, mi rey.” His mom got teary eyed, leaned over, hugging Abel by the shoulder, and kissed his head. “I told him, Hector. I don’t need all that. I’ve lived in this little house for years, and we’ve been fine, but he insists. You know I’m not asking for all that.”
“I know that, Ma.” Hector laughed.
Of course, his mom would never ask for something this lavish. He and Abel had been telling her for years she could buy the more expensive stuff from the supermarket to make life easier on her since she still insisted on cooking them home-cooked meals almost daily. But, no, she still bought the whole chicken, skin and all, instead of the more expensive boneless chicken breasts.
“Estan locos!” she’d say. “Pay over three dollars a pound when I could pay thirty-nine cents!” Abel and Hector had taken over the grocery shopping for the most part in the past year or so.
“Is that what I think it is?” Hector looked at Abel with a hopeful smile.
Abel looked up at what Hector was pointing at on the paper. “Yeah, but don’t get any ideas. That place would be for me.”
Well, shit. For a moment there, Hector thought he’d figured out a way around his mother’s not-having-girls-overnight-at-her-house rule. The house his mother liked had a separate pool house way behind the main house, a house Abel would be making the most of.
“But don’t worry. The place has two master bedrooms on either end of the house, and the house is huge. Each master has its own separate entrance.”
“Cochinos!” Their mom said, frowning as she walked around the table to check the food on the stove. “Is that all you two are worried about?”
She turned around and waved a spatula at them, and it was on. She was going into one of her rants. Abel gave Hector a look. They should’ve known better than to talk about this in front of her.
“Even if are paying for it, Abel, if you want me living there with you two, you will not be parading a different girl in and out of there every day. I won’t have it. You need to be respectful to me and yourselves. Besides,” she turned to stir the food in the pan then turned back to them, “any girl who is okay with knowing she is not the only girl that’s been in your bedroom that week or even month for that matter is not the kind of girl you want to be bringing home.”
Hector wondered what his mom would have to say about Leticia and Miriam and smirked. Try the same night, Mom.
“De que te ries?” His mother glared at him.
Hector opened his mouth wide in protest. “I’m not laughing!”
That only made his mother’s glare even more severe since he laughed while saying it. Abel laughed now too. Hector was sure Abel could only imagine what he’d been thinking.
She turned on Abel now. “Don’t encourage him. You should be setting an example. You’re no spring chicken. When are you going to start looking for a nice little Mexican girl?”
Hector muffled a laugh into his fist as soon as his mom turned her back on them. Abel’s head was already hanging back defeated. It was the same song and dance with his mother. Abel wasn’t even twenty-two yet, but by that age, she and all her siblings had been married with kids for years. So to her, Abel should be looking to settle down—with a nice little Mexican girl, of course.
“And the younger the better,” she added.
“Oh, good. We’re getting the long version tonight.” Abel said, standing up with his plate in his hand.
“No seas grosero,” his mom snapped.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Abel kissed his mom’s forehead as he passed her to get to the sink. “I’m not trying to be rude. Go on.”
“Did you get full?” she asked, immediately losing the angry tone and sounding concerned, as she if ever served them too little
“Stuffed actually. But it was good.”
His mother smiled, satisfied, then continued with her rant. “I’m just saying. The girls these days are so different from back in my day. The days of innocence and saving yourself for your husband are long dead.” She huffed. “So it’s best to get them younger when they’re still a little bit more innocent. You know, less experienced.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Madre.” Abel kissed her forehead as he walked past her again. “I gotta go. Don’t wait up.”
“Where are you going?”
“I gotta go take care of some business,” Abel turned back with a wink, “respectfully, outside of your house.”
Hector’s mom placed her hand on her hip, pressing her lips together with a frown but didn’t say a word, watching him until he was out of sight. She turned back to Hector who was now sitting at the table, and he wiped the smirk right off his face, shaking his head in disapproval.
She rolled her eyes and went on about the age thing. Hector knew that argument was a bust. Younger wasn’t always better. Noah was proof of that. Roni was eight years older than he was, and those two were insanely happy. But he’d never bothered to argue the whole Mexican girl part. It’d never crossed his mind that he’d ever have to. Now he was curious. He had a feeling the answer would be based on some of the stuff his mom had said in the past. Still he decided to bite.
A little annoyed that Charlee was back front and center on his mind again, he waited for his mom to stop and take a breath before interrupting.
“So why only Mexican girls?”
His mom turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as she piled the food onto his plate. “They don’t have to be Mexican. But it’s just better if you stick with your own culture. At least stick with Latinas.” She set the plate in front of him. “And hopefully to the ones whose parents were born in their country, not the second generation Latinas. They’re just as bad as non-Latinas—too Americanized—too modern for their own good.”
Hector rolled his eyes now, ready to chuck this theory in the fire pit along with the “the younger the better” theory. “And what does that mean? Too modern for their own good?”
He grabbed a tortilla and started rolling it up already, doubtful that his mom would have a valid argument for this one either.
After setting a glass of milk down for him, his mother sat across from him and picked up the home profile papers. “Well, you mean aside from the obvious? They don’t cook.”
She said that with so much conviction Hector laughed. Figures his mom would think that would be a deal breaker.
“And?” he looked up from dipping his tortilla in his chili verde.
His mom frowned. “Mijo, they’re just too liberal about everything. You wanna nice girl that still has some of the same good old-fashioned values you grew up with. You stray away from what you’re used to, and you’ll be treading into unknown waters. They are brought up believing and being told things Latinas are not told. Like that it’s okay to jump from one man’s bed to another’s just like that because men do it all the time. This equality stuff is constantly shoved into their modern-day heads. Some things are still sacred, and behaving that way is still frowned upon in our culture. Well, my era. And while I don’t have any daughters, just as I harp to you and Abel, I would like to think women like me from my era in my culture are also passing their beliefs and morals down to their girls.”
And there you had it. Another one of his mother’s theories completely deflated. Although he’d met enough of the sweet Latinas his mother spoke of, he’d also met plenty like Leticia and Miriam. His mother’s suggestion that only the Latin world still held morals was ridiculous.
Even he and Abel were perfect arguments against that. While his mother had managed to instill most of the morals and values she harped on about so often, neither Hector nor Abel had any qualms about engaging in a few acts his mother would certainly protest, so long as the girls were all for it.
Charlee was another contradiction to his mother’s belief. He frowned, realizing that once again he was thinking about her, even as infuriating as that afternoon had been for him. It didn’t make sense.
Uncontrollable desire was something even the most innocent would have a hard time masking. Hector had felt it in her kisses. It was exactly what he was feeling with every stroke of her tongue in his mouth. But the depth he’d felt in her kisses wasn’t because of the level of skill she possessed. It was just the opposite. If he had to guess, that might’ve been her first time doing something that arousing, and except for that heavenly moment his mouth veered downward to her neck, it’d only gone as far as kissing. Even then, her entire body had come alive, but not as he was used to. There was something so chaste about her body’s reaction to what he did to her, and he hadn’t even done much.
That’s why he’d been so stunned about her forgettable comment. What he felt when he kissed her was hands down new to him, and almost two weeks later it was still so fresh in his head. All he had to do was close his eyes and feel it all over again.
He stood up, once he’d polished off his food. His mother asked the same thing she asked both him and Abel every single time they finished eating. “Did you get full?” Hector nodded, placing the plate in the sink. “You got real quiet there all of a sudden.” Hector glanced back at his mom’s inquiring eyes. “Is there a reason why you were asking about girls that were not Mexican? Are you seeing one?”
His mom was a sly one. Too bad she was wrong. “Nope,” he said, rubbing her shoulders as he came up behind her. “I was just curious.” He kissed her on the head. “I’m gonna go to the gym for a while.”
“I thought you were there all morning?”
“Yeah, I was, but I still have some paperwork to do in the office.”
It was partly true. He did have some work to do but nothing that couldn’t wait until the next morning. He just didn’t feel up to sitting around watching T.V. because he knew he’d be plagued with thoughts of the inevitable. He only hoped Walter had already worked out and left. It’s why he’d come home first and taken his time eating. The last thing he needed tonight was to hear the guy go on and on about Charlee.