“No. That has nothing to do with it. Your dreams and talent are bigger than being an assistant, living in a broke down van with four guys. I won’t be a part of you giving up on them.”
I was at a loss. A ship without a sail, drifting in the wide open sea, waiting for something, anything, to point me in the right direction.
Reaching out, I touched his crossed arms, sliding my fingers between them until he let go, let them fall. My palm moved up his chest, and with nothing else left to lose, I rested it on his heart.
“Santi…” I scooted closer, removing the half-cushion distance. My breasts pressed against his arm.
“Don’t,” he warned.
I might have stopped if it hadn’t been for the thudding of his heart beneath my palm. It sped up when I touched him, his eyes burning into mine.
“Santi...I have feelings for you. More-than-friend feelings. I’ve been fallin’ for you all summer.”
He exhaled, long and slow. I moved closer, close enough to feel his gust of breath.
“No matter where we end up, if I go to Georgia, play my drums in hiding, and y’all get famous, my heart belongs to you. I need you to know that.”
Gathering all my bravery, I kissed him. I’d been wanting to for weeks. Every time he smiled at me, I studied the way his mouth moved, how his muscles formed that glorious shape. And I’d been pretty sure he returned my affection. Maybe he didn’t love me, but I was fairly certain he was attracted to me. Otherwise, I would never have made a move like this.
For one blissful moment, Santiago Garza kissed me back.
Then he stopped.
It took me a beat to catch on. To realize his lips had gone stiff and unyielding and his hands on my shoulders were pushing at me.Away with you.
Breaking apart, little pants falling from my tingling lips, I looked into his eyes in question. Gone was the previous heat, replaced by a wall so thick, I had no idea what he was thinking.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“I thought…” My hand flew to my mouth, mortification washing my words away. I could hear my mama’s voice in my head, telling me men who looked like Santiago would never be interested in a fat girl. I’d had that voice in my head since I told her about Eric Wilder, my first real crush back in sixth grade.
“Maybe if you were a cute little thing like your friend, Leslie-Ann Tyler, you might have a chance. But Maeve, baby, you have to either go on a diet or accept you’re never going to be a boy’s first choice.”
Santiago rose so quickly from the couch, I barely saw him move. One second, he was beside me, and the next, he stood above me, his head in his hands.
“I apologize if I misled you.” His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. “I can’t force something that’s not there.” He threw his words back in my face.
“But we’ve gotten so close, and I—”
“Is this why you want to throw it all away?Really?”
“No. God, I don’t know.” Sitting down wasn’t working for me anymore. I stood, keeping distance between us since he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “I just want to be with you. You don’t…? I really thought…”
Apparently I was a glutton for punishment. Instead of running away in shame, I was pushing the issue. It might’ve been because I was leaving and had nothing to lose. But it also might’ve been because I couldn’t figure out where I’d gone so wrong. I’d been positive Santiago was into me. More than into me.
“I don’t.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument. When his gaze moved down my body, his upper lip curling slightly, my stomach bottomed out. “We’re friends, but you’re not my type.”
“Not your type?” My voice barely came out above a whisper. I knew exactly what he meant.
“No. I’m not attracted to you.” Rubbing his scruffy jaw, his eyes raked over me again, looking almost pained by what he saw. “Not at all. You and I are never going to happen, baby girl.”
If he’d only rejected me, I’d have gone home, drowned in my sorrows, maybe starved myself for a week, and put the blame all on myself. But this casual cruelty at the hands of a man who claimed he was my friend? He could go straight to hell. It was clear to me the problem wasn’t something wrong with me, but something missing in him.
“You’re right, Santiago.” I stood tall, proud, lifting my chin even though I hurt inside. “You did mislead me. I thought you were a good guy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m glad to be leavin’. If I never see your face again, it’ll be too soon.”
My mama would’ve been proud at the way I sashayed out of that wasted room with flourish. She always told me my exit was even more important than my entrance. It was what I’d be leaving people to remember me by. My wide hips swayed, my plump backside bounced, and my ponytail bobbed. My insides were crumbling a little, but my outside was on fire.
On a whim, I yanked the hoodie Santiago wore everywhere, despite it being summer, off the back of a stool in the kitchen where he’d carelessly slung it. The dick could freeze. This was my hoodie now.
As soon as I got home, I texted Haven.
You still up for a west coast adventure? I’ve got a full bank account and a plane ticket I’m about to switch from Atlanta to L.A. You in?
It only took her a minute to reply.
Oh, hell yes, lover. Tell me when and where. I’ll start packing.
Now.
We were leaving, and I had big plans of never looking back.