“I don’t know what kind of big brother you’ve been, but I do think it takes a lot of courage to do what Diego did. Seekin’ help can’t be easy, and walkin’ away from a successful band has got to be nearly impossible.”
Santiago’s sharp eyes landed on my face. “Are you crying, baby girl?”
I wiped my wet cheek. “Don’t call me that.”
Something like remorse flashed across his face before he schooled his features, giving nothing else away. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not. One or two tears doesn’t mean I’m cryin’. I just don’t like thinkin’ about either of you bein’ hurt.”
“You don’t wantmeto hurt?”
I snorted a little laugh. “I’m no sadist. Maybe five years ago, my answer would have been different, but times change. I’m over all that.”
He gave me a disbelieving frown. “Since when?”
“It’s a recent development.”
“Since the kisses?”
That had me full-on laughing. “I thought we weren’t talkin’ about that?”
“I’m just trying to determine when you stopped hating me.”
“Somewhere between the kisses we’re not talkin’ about and five minutes ago.”
With a grin, his gaze returned back to the ceiling and he folded his arms under his head.
“Thanks for making that easy,” he said. “You’re the first person I’ve told about Diego. Didn’t feel as bad as I expected.”
“I have no doubt you’re a good big brother, Santi,” I all but whispered. From the way his lips turned up even as his eyes closed, I knew he heard.