Hector’s mouth nearly fell open. “You’re seriously talking to this guy now?”

Charlee started walking, but Hector kept up walking alongside her. “What’s wrong with me talking to him? He’s apologized for what he did already—more than once. He wants to make things right. That’s all.”

Unfuckingbelievable! “That’s all? Really? Has he apologized to Walter too? Your friend—you know that one that ended up in the emergency room because he came to your rescue from this ass**le and his friends?” His insides were on fire now. Was she really this stupid? Then it hit him, and he got in front of her, making her stop. “And exactly what question do you have for him?”

Her expression had changed from annoyed to a bit regretful when he mentioned Walter ending up in the emergency room. He hoped that meant she got how chicken shit this was of her to be hanging out with the dude now. But her expression went back to annoyed again. “That’s none of your business, now, is it?”

Suddenly this wasn’t about Walter anymore. Suddenly what he felt was more than just anger, and he didn’t even care how clear he was making that. “You into this guy, Charlee? Is that it? You’d actually consider something with that piece of shit?”

Her pink lips parted, but she said nothing. He was done. If he stood there for even another second, he might just spill his guts—tell her why he was really so ready to beat the shit out of this guy. Because seeing her standing there with him, having an obviously enjoyable conversation, had set him on fire, and he was ready to blow now. From what Walter had told him already about Charlee making excuses for the guy, he had a feeling what that might mean.

He started walking away before he could explode but then stopped and turned to her again. “You might wanna let Walter in on this shit; otherwise, he may still think you need saving from this prick.” She stared at him wide-eyed now. “You wouldn’t want him to end up in the emergency room again in case he sees you and your f**king little boyfriend snuggling up somewhere.”

Just the thought made him want to roar. He glanced at her friend Drew for a second, taking in the strange expression. She’d seemed just as irritated by Charlee moments ago. He wondered what the near smirk she wore now meant.

Without giving it another thought, he walked away before he spit out any more venom. He’d said enough. If she hadn’t figured it out already, she would if he stayed there and continued to let it all out.

Stalking through the parking lot now, he tried to make sense of everything. Charlee was not a stupid girl. He’d heard of people being book smart but dumb as rocks when it came to street smarts. That could very well be the case, but he still didn’t buy it. Shy girls that had the brains to get a full ride in college and did volunteer work for charity would have more respect for themselves.

So she let Hector kiss her at the party. That was different. They had a connection. He felt it. She certainly hadn’t been so keen about that other guy she’d been dancing with. He may’ve been a douche, but he wasn’t necessarily bad-looking. If she was really the type of girl she now wanted him to believe she was, then she would’ve just gotten friendly with that guy.

As much as she appeared to be at ease with pretending nothing ever happened between them, Hector was beginning to think maybe that wasn’t the case—not entirely anyway. Since it’d been impossible to not stare at her like he did so often, there was no denying that she was having just as hard a time not looking his way. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but he was sure of it now. The irritation he thought he’d picked up on was loud and clear when she told him she was fine talking to the guy, even though she thanked Walter for saving her again just days ago. He picked up on it again when she’d told Hector it was none of his business. At the moment he’d been on fire—too wound up to put it together.

This actually calmed him now as he climbed into his truck. If that were the case, if she was, in fact, upset about him telling her to forget anything ever happened between them, then maybe that explained why she’d want him to believe she was really the kind of girl she made herself out to be. She didn’t want him to know she actually was upset about his dismissing the very special time they spent together that night. It was special, damn it. He’d go with that for now. It was easier to accept that than the alternative.

By the time he got home, he’d calmed down some. His theory made total sense. The only hole in it was one nagging thing: I’ll answer your question then. What the hell could she have asked him that she was so quick to say was none of Hector’s business? Was it possible she could actually have some interest in the dirtbag? The guy who’d made her scream so loudly that if she hadn’t, Hector never would’ve gone out of his way to see what was going on? No way.

“Mijito,” his mom called out when he walked in. “Come look!”

Hector walked through the small living room into the kitchen where his mother stood over the kitchen table, holding some papers. Abel sat at the table with a plate full of food, looking through the papers also.

“This one!” she said excitedly, holding a paper out to him. “This is the one I like.”

Hector took the paper from her. Now that Abel had signed such a huge deal, he was using the advance he got from it to buy their mom a house. Of course, she insisted they still live with her, and, for now, Hector wouldn’t have it any other way, only he couldn’t see himself bringing home girls to spend the night at his mom’s house. She was old-school and considered it disrespectful unless he was married, and Hector knew that wasn’t happening for years.