by Cecy Robson
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Lourdes asked. “I thought you had all this work to do.”
“I’m at Mateo’s,” I whispered as if it was a huge secret.
“Are you doing it?”
“No.”
“If you do, you better use protection.”
“Lourdes, I’m here to study, and—and he’s going to take a look at my car.”
“Evelyn, he’s a man. He probably wants to take a look under your hood, too.”
“Jesus, Lourdes, it’s not like that.”
“Slap a saddle on the horse, Evelyn. Do not go bareback on that bronco.”
I shut the door and locked it. “I’m not having sex.”
“Yet.”
“What?”
“You’re not having sex yet. Evelyn, I know you like him.”
“I do, but I still don’t really know him.” I dumped my backpack on the island and started pulling out my books. “Besides, he said we didn’t have to do anything that I didn’t want to do.” I groaned at how stupid that sounded.
“Of course that’s what he said. He’s a man. Men say shit like that all the time. Remember that puto who told me, ‘We don’t have to do anything, we can just lay here in our underwear’?”
I leaned against the counter and rested my hand against my forehead. Yeah, I remembered that puto.
“A fire escape, Evelyn. I had to climb out of a damn fire escape in Center City Philly. Do I have to remind you of that night, or how the puto chased after your car―”
“In his underwear, yeah, I know.” Not to mention we almost had my car jacked at a light. Good times. “I’m not hooking up with Mateo, Lourdes. I’m not ready. And I’m not sure he’s even the right guy to hook up with.” I rubbed my arm when I thought about how sex with Donovan had been. It wasn’t anything worth repeating. Ever.
Lourdes picked up on my sudden apprehension. “Do you want me to pick you up? Or do you want me to wait with you while he works on your car?”
“No, I think I’ll be okay.”
“All right, but text me if you change your mind. The secret code words are ‘Lourdes, I’m fucked.’ ”
I laughed despite myself.
She was laughing, too, but then she sighed. “You like him don’t you?”
“Yeah, I really do,” I finally admitted.
Chapter Seven
I was poring over the last of my practice tests when the floor rumbled beneath me. The garage was opening. Mateo was back. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, debating how to sit and how to look. He’d texted me when he was waiting for Elaine, just to make sure I was there and to tell me to help myself to whatever I needed. I’d brushed my hair, added a fresh coat of my drugstore lip gloss, and gone right back to work.
I’d read and taken notes late into the previous night, and I was jetting along. Although I’d never admit it out loud, I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself. My work was almost done for the day and I was hanging at a cute guy’s crib. Not bad, Evelyn.
At least it wasn’t bad until Mateo’s hard body slammed into the door. I rushed toward it to unlock it. He did a double take when he saw me through the small row of windowpanes. I opened the door. Good. God. I’d seen him in black fatigues and a T. But I’d never seen him in jeans―much less a white muscle shirt that appeared to be spray-painted on.
A military cap topped his head, darkening his hazel eyes. I hoped it somehow also blocked my shocked expression, but doubted it. “Sorry, I forgot I locked it.”
“No problem.” He continued to eye me. “You look…nice.” He lifted my chin with his fingers. “Do you always dress like this for school, baby?”
Baby? Swoon. “No. Not usually.”
He didn’t kiss me, like I’d expected, and maybe hoped for. But he did lead me in, keeping his large hand on my lower back. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said, motioning toward my pile of work. “Do you think you’ll make it Wednesday night?”
I returned to my stool while he opened the refrigerator door. “Yeah. Totally.”
“Good.” He winked. “Want a soda?”
“No.” I tapped my glass with my highlighter. “I’m good with just water.”
Mateo popped open a can of Coke and sat next to me, flicking the pages of my book. “What the hell is that?”
“This?” I pointed to the picture. “Oh, a dissected brain.”
He made a face. “Nice.”
I laughed. “Oh, my God. Why are you so grossed out? It’s not your brain.”
“I just don’t like that medical shit. When my sister talks about needles and sticking tubes in some poor bastard, I check out.”
“You’re afraid of needles?”
He didn’t answer.
“And medical procedures?”
He grimaced. “I’m not a fan.”
“Says the man who makes people bleed.”
He grinned. “That’s different. I can handle blood when it’s pouring out of some punk I just crushed. But when you start talking about cleaning wounds…That’s just messed up.” He took a big gulp. “My sister knows I hate hearing about it. But every damn time she learns something new, she can’t wait to share. Last week she called just to tell me she stuck a hose in some guy’s―” He shuddered. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. All I know is that there has to be a better way to make a living.”
“I’m sure there is, but it’s an honorable profession.”
He smiled and nudged me playfully. “Yeah. You’ll be okay.”
I drew circles with my pen on my notebook, trying to hide my grin. “What’s your sister’s name?”
“I’ve got two. Lety’s the one in college. Sofia’s my baby sister. She’s still in high school.”
“Are you close to them?”
“Yeah. We’re tight. Have to watch out for my girls, you know?”
I nodded, though I didn’t know personally. He’d called Sofia his “baby sister.” Given her age and his apparent protectiveness of her, I thought maybe she was the one who’d been raped. Fourteen. That’s how old Ant said she was when the assault happened. I couldn’t imagine…
A strange chill rocked my body. I dropped my pen and rubbed my arms, suddenly uneasy.
“What about you?” Mateo brushed my hair aside, frowning when something in my expression caught his interest. “You okay?”
I swallowed and tried to relax my tensing body. “Yeah. Um. I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
He leaned back, giving me space. Shit. That’s not what I needed just then. “Sisters. You have any? Or brothers?”
“No. I never had any siblings.” I worked with how best to finish my thoughts and how much to say. “My mother died in a car accident when I was four.”
“Damn, sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t remember her much. I wish I did, but I was too young, I guess.” I picked up my pen again. “My dad, he, ah, died just a few years ago. It’s just me now. I don’t have any other family.”
“Okay,” he said, realizing this conversation needed to end.
He finished his Coke. I was hoping he’d angle his body closer to mine. Instead he stood and pointed to my book. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Just don’t tell me about it.”
He walked into his bedroom without another glance. I heard him tug on his zipper. I also heard his jeans fall to the floor. Thick fabric rustled. I stilled, knowing he’d ditched his pants. Without thinking, I stole a glance behind me. He’d left the French doors to his bedroom open, but I couldn’t see anything but the side wall. Damn side wall.
My fingers flipped through the pages of my psych book when I heard him move toward the door. He stepped into the kitchen area in dark coveralls. He zipped them while I watched. Aw, hell. Didn’t Mateo do hot mechanic well?
He grinned at the sight of my reddening cheeks. “I’m going to take a look at your car. If you finish soon, come down.”
“Uh-huh.”
He grinned again, because yeah, I was just
that obvious.
I thought for sure Mateo would return for me before I finished. My work, infuriatingly enough, took longer than I thought. So did my junker of a car. I finished everything I needed, and even read a little ahead. I finally walked into the garage some time later to see his big black work boots sticking out from beneath my car. I bent down. “How’s it going?”
“Step back and I’ll tell you.”
I did and he slid out lying on a wide wooden board on wheels. Streaks of oil slicked his face and grease plastered his fingers. No, he didn’t look sexy or anything.
“Hand me that towel, will ya, baby?”
His deep rusty voice coupled with calling me “baby” momentarily glued me in place. “What? Oh.” I reached for the towel on the rack and tossed it to him.
He caught it and wiped his hands. “You want the good news or bad?”
“There’s actually good news?”
He chuckled.
“Give me the bad news first then, so I have something to look forward to.”
“Okay. I changed your oil, fixed a leak, cleaned out your filters, and tightened a hell of a lot of loose wires, and topped your air conditioner with coolant. It should work now.”
“Are you serious?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Why would I lie to you?”
“I just figured it, like, died and that’s all there was to it.”
“No. That was actually the least of your problems. You need new spark plugs, belts, a muffler, an alternator, and a new fuel injector.”
“Teo, I hope you’re getting to the good news, because you lost me after ‘muffler.’ ”
He shortened the distance between us and bent forward, but he only kissed my forehead. “You’re cute, you know that?” He was smiling. “Don’t get too worked up. The good news is, I can fix all of it. It’ll just take some time. I can also get all the parts pretty cheap.”
“How cheap?”
“It’s going to run you about six hundred for everything.”
“That’s cheap?”
“It would be around six hundred alone just to fix your alternator. Don’t worry,” he said when my face fell. “We can do everything in stages. Nothing’s so crucial it can’t wait another month. Come on, let’s head up.”
I followed him back up the wooden steps, pausing to glance back at the main house. “Will you have time? You seem to have a lot to do around here.”
“Evie, I don’t blow smoke. If I couldn’t help you, I’d just tell you.”
He downed a bottle of water in the kitchen before disappearing into his bedroom. I heard the sink running in his bathroom. When he returned, his face and hands were clean and he was back in his jeans and white muscle shirt. He stretched out on the leather couch, watching me while I finished packing the last of my books. He motioned me to him with his fingers when I finished. “Sit with me.”
Mateo lounged like a panther, all smooth muscle, his hazel eyes shimmering against his olive skin. I walked slowly to him and slumped beside him. The leather on the couch, worn and soft, was surprisingly comfortable beneath my bare legs.
Although he hadn’t kissed me the way I’d wanted him to, he curled his outstretched arm around my shoulders and turned to face me, his fingers playing with my hair. “Hi,” he said, his rough voice lowering.
“Hi.”
“I’m not supposed to mess around close to a fight.” His fingers skimmed my arm and his sizzling gaze traveled downward. “But you and that dress are making it hard.”
He leaned toward me. I lowered my lids when his lips found mine. This time, my tongue drove into his. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to kiss him until then. His left hand tightened around my hip, kneading it while my arms circled his neck.
Mateo pulled me closer. His hand wandered lower, reaching beneath my knees and hauling me onto his lap. I cradled his head as we deepened our kiss. His short buzzed hair tickled my skin, making me smile just as my teeth found his bottom lip.
He laughed at my tease and abandoned my mouth to glide his lips across my jawline. I moaned. Damn, he felt so good. His hand―the one gripping my hip―smoothed down my butt. The way he played made me gasp. I liked the way he touched me, except I knew how to play, too, and that body of his made me want to show him. My hands pressed across his shoulders while I kissed behind his ear. This time, he moaned. I loved the deep sound and wanted to hear it again. So I kissed his neck, hard enough to snag his attention, but not enough to leave a mark.
Yeah. He liked that, too.
His hand wandered up and cupped my breast. I jerked, arching my back when his fingers pinched the tip. His mouth traveled down my exposed throat and he pinched again; this time he didn’t let go and held tight.
Again, our mouths met, this time harder and more eager. Damn, he was driving me insane. His hand toyed with my entire breast before wandering to the back of my dress and pulling my zipper all the way down.
I wrenched away, suddenly covering myself although my clothes remained on.
“Too much?” he asked, breathing hard.
I angled my chin with my gaze lowered. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…Sorry.”
His hands roamed behind my back. For a moment, I froze, certain he’d tear my dress off. Instead he slowly zipped it back up, covering my exposed skin. When he finished, his arms wound around my waist and he planted a kiss on my shoulder. “Hey, look at me.” I couldn’t and kept my head down. He cupped my face. “Evie, look at me.” He stroked my jaw with his thumb until I did as he asked. “We do what you want. And only what you want. Got me?”
I held his gaze, still turned on by the feel of his mouth and hands. This was something totally new. With Donovan, anything physical was more like choreographed movements than actions that genuinely excited me. For the most part, I’d zone out until whatever we did was over. With Mateo, I felt everything…the strength behind his touch, the heat of his body, his warm breath along my enraptured skin. This was more than I ever thought physical intimacy could be. But evidently, I wasn’t the only one affected. “You’re ready for more, aren’t you?” I asked.
“I am. I’m not gonna lie. But I meant what I said. I won’t push you to do anything.”
“Okay.” I licked my lips. It was still early. And there was still a lot of time. “Does this mean we have to stop kissing?”
The edges of his eyes crinkled when he smirked. “Oh, hell no,” he said, pulling me back to him.
—
Mateo took me out to an early dinner Wednesday before his match. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small pizzeria. But it was nice, really nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten out, and I’d missed him since our time together on Monday.
I had a couple of slices of pizza and a salad. He had two large helpings of pasta―carbs he claimed would fuel his energy for the match. On our drive into Philly, he didn’t say much. I supposed he needed to focus. Me, I was mostly scared and hoped I could get through the match. The fight between him and the dealer had left me shaken. And although he claimed his leg was fine, I still noticed the slight limp to his stride, no matter how much he tried to hide it.
I rubbed my hands along my jeans, trying to work off my nervous energy. Supposedly no weapons were allowed in the fight club, except it was still an unsanctioned match. Anyone could sneak in a knife, a gun, anything.
“You worry too much, sweetie.” Mateo’s deep voice cut through the darkness of his Explorer.
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“It won’t. I’ve got this.”
I wasn’t as confident. My fingertips traced over my lips. The swelling from our awesome kissing session had lessened. I wished then I was back on his couch instead of en route to watch him throw down. “Do you want to blindfold me?”
“Now?” he asked with a smirk.
I covered my face. “I mean so I won’t remember the location. Is there, like, a secret handshake or something to get in?”
“Normally, you would
n’t be allowed in, Evie. But you’re with me.” He chuckled. “And the place isn’t so secret. It’s an MMA—mixed martial arts—gym open to the public during the day. The owner runs fights after closing, and only those known to him and his crew have access after hours.”
“How did you learn about it?”
He quieted as if debating what to tell me. “My Uncle Lino got me into martial arts when I was a kid. He felt I had anger issues I needed to work out.” His lips twitched. “And he was right about that. Anyway, Lino helped pay some of the tuition. I made up the rest by working for the original owner―cleaning floors, emptying the garbage, that sort of thing.”
I played with my palms. “What about your father?”
Mateo stiffened. “He wasn’t around much.”
The way he spoke made it clear I shouldn’t push. So did the silence that grew between us as he maneuvered his Explorer around Konrad Square. “What was it like for you growing up?” he asked.
He turned onto a narrow street. I took in the stretch of row homes and the cluster of teens gathered around one of the stoops, laughing and taking drags from a joint. “Different than this.”
“I had the feeling you weren’t a city kid.” He placed his hand on my leg. “Maybe one day you’ll tell me a little more about you.”
I covered his hand with mine. He hadn’t volunteered to share more of his past, and I wasn’t making any promises to do so either. Seemed we both had secrets better left hidden. At least for now.
He pulled into a Catholic church’s lot and parked. “We have a short walk, but I need to stop here for a moment.”
“Do you want me to wait?”
“No. I’m not leaving you in here by yourself.”
Mateo waited for me as I walked around the car, and took my hand the moment I reached his side. We walked up the church steps and through the small lobby. The first two pews of the large old church held a scattered group of old women dressed in black. Mateo blessed himself with holy water, bowed to the altar, blessed himself again, and started to walk out before I could mimic his actions.
“What was that about?” I asked, looking back at the heavy wooden doors.
“I was raised Catholic. A prayer for protection is something I do every time before a match.” He led me through the back garden and onto another block.