When I climbed back into Santi’s truck after I’d promised to come back to see Eli and Alicia soon, I noted with smug satisfaction I was the only one they’d extracted that promise from.
“I didn’t expect my dad to like you,” Santi said in the dark as he drove back to the city.
“I’m...not sure how to answer that.”
“He doesn’t like a lot of people.”
“Ah, and you imagined I’d be one of those people he didn’t enjoy? Thanks, Santiago. What a lovely thing to say.”
“Maeve.” He sighed, like he was the most put upon man in existence.
“Yes?”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Fighting me. Hating me. I don’t know. Just stop.”
My face heated all the way to the tips of my ears. The nerve. Like most people, I disliked being told what to do. It always brought out the rebel in me, the part of me that wanted to buck and fight whenever I was feeling held down.
“I don’t like being told what to do or havin’ my feelings policed,” I said, voice steady, eyes on the dark road in front of us.
His groan was low, from deep in his chest. “I know. I’m not trying to do that. All I want is to be civil. To be able to say something without offending you.”
“How did you think I’d take you tellin’ me you were surprised your dad liked me? Do you realize how that sounds?”
“I misspoke.”
I huffed. “All right. So, let’s try not speakin’. That might improve things.”
“I don’t think that’ll work for me,” he rumbled.
“Why? You made it clear from the beginning you don’t want me here. I don’t need to pretend we’re at the start of a beautiful friendship. We’re co-workers, and that’s fine with me. We can speak about work.”
Another heavy sigh. “Maeve.”
My fingers dug into the knees of my jeans to keep myself from flailing around wildly. “Don’t keep sayin’ my name like that! You’re makin’ me hate it.”
“Prettiest name I ever heard.”
I rolled my eyes to keep the fluttering in my stomach at bay. He’d done shit like this five years ago, which was why I fell so hard for him. I wasn’t some wise old woman now, but I’d certainly wised up since. I knew words could make me fall, but they could also toss me off the top of a skyscraper, sending me spiraling until I found my feet or went splat.
“Thank you, sir, but that’s enough of that. You wouldn’t want to mislead me again, would you?” Sarcasm dripped from each word. I tried not to be sarcastic too often, but Santiago brought it out.
He stayed quiet until he pulled into a parking space at Yael’s building. Instead of simply dropping me off, he got out when I did, meeting me at the truck’s bumper.
“You don’t need to walk me in. I’m good,” I said.
“I’m not good, though. You can fight me on this, but it won’t change anything.”
Huffing in defeat, I let the big lug escort me onto the elevator and to Yael’s door. He kept looking at me, his arms crossed, a scowl on his too-handsome face.
At my door, I turned to face Santi. “Thank you for the escort.”
He tipped his chin. “Always.”
That had me fluttering again. “Goodnight, Santiago.”