“Yep.” He grins. “You’re not the only one who can be a nerd, you know?”
“Hm.” I eye him curiously. “You shouldn’t be allowed to be a nerd.”
“Because I’m a jock?”
“Yeah.” And hot. And funny. And gorgeous. And nice. All things I’d never admit aloud. I focus on my yogurt again.
“So you’re heading out already?”
“My uncle wants us there at five.”
“It’s four.”
“And he wants me to pick up my grandmother on my way there.”
“Doña Sabrina is coming?” Jagger raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Well, she’ll be there.”
“Is she making cheesecake?”
“Maybe.” I purse my lips.
“Damn, I can’t wait. Maybe I should go get ready and get there early so I can try some before my brothers eat it all.”
I laugh. “I’ll save you a slice.”
“You promise?”
I meet his gaze and nearly drop my spoon with the way he’s looking at me, with an intensity I’ve only seen in his expression a handful of times, like he’s asking me for more than just a slice of cheesecake. I make myself swallow the bit of yogurt I’d put in my mouth and nod as I turn around and throw away the empty container. I need to leave. I’m starting to feel like a coward, always running away from him when I can’t handle the emotions he’s eliciting, but I am and he is. I call out “see you later” from the door just before I shut it behind me and walk to my car quickly. It’s not like he’s going to follow me or anything, but I still feel like I’m in a rush to leave.
“Ay, this car is awful,” my grandmother says, sucking her teeth.
“Yeah, but it transports me from point A to point B.”
“Until it breaks down.” She sucks her teeth again. “Does it have a functioning radio?”
“No.”
“No?” She gasps, shaking her head. “Jesus, Josephine.”
“Nana, you don’t even drive. Your judgment is beneath me right now.”
“Beneath you where? On the street I feel scraping against my butt every time you go over a median?”
I groan. She’s such a pain in the ass, my grandmother, but I love her and I’ve always loved her way of telling it like it is. Misty gets that trait from her. Mom says it’s an Aquarius thing. I don’t understand much about astronomy signs, but I know I’m an Aries and most of the things Walter Mercado used to say about us are true. On that note, I turn and glance at my grandmother briefly. She’s looking at herself in the little mirror behind her sun visor, fixing the red lipstick she’s wearing. She always tries to get me to wear it because we have similar complexions—olive skin with dark hair—but whenever I wear lipstick I feel like a clown.
“Did you see the Walter Mercado special on Netflix?” I ask.
“Not yet.” She sighs. “I got sucked into another Spanish show. Let me tell you, those Spaniards can tell a story and hook you. I wish I’d known that before. To think I wasted all of those years on telenovelas.” She purses her lips and shakes her head as she pats the coils of short curls on her head.
“You love your telenovelas, Nan.” I shoot her a sideways glance.
“I’m done with them.”
“You say that every time.” I laugh. “Remember when we met that actor at the vet and you almost forgot your dog there because you were so enamored?”
“Fernando Colunga. How could I forget?” She smiles. “I don’t know why your father chose to move out of Miami and land in the middle of nowhere North Carolina,” she says with distaste.
“To be fair, Uncle Adrian was here first.”
“Yes, but who follows Adrian? Only an idiot would.”
“Yet, here we are.” I laugh again. “You have to admit, it’s nice here, and we have the seasons.”
“Who cares about the seasons?” She scowls. “All I do is make cheesecake for Adrian and go shopping with your mother. Thank God for Netflix.”
“Here, here,” I say.
“I hope you didn’t mess up the cheesecakes.” Nana looks at the back seat as I park the car in the closest spot to the back door.
“I’m sure they’re fine. I’ll help you inside and have Donovan get them. Don’t worry.”
When we step inside, Donovan is talking to the kitchen staff about the menu and placement of the food. I slip past them and find my uncle to tell him to help me get the cheesecakes out of the car.
“Where’s your sister?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure she’ll be here.”
“She better be. I told Marissa to take the night off.”
“You did what?” I balk. “So it’ll just be us?”
“All you have to do is put plates in front of people, Jo. It’s not that difficult.”
“Says the man dressed to the nines who won’t be putting plates in front of people.” I shoot him a look as we step outside.