I feel like my oxygen is about to be cut off. “What about me being your friend? Trey is gone, Vic. I’m here. I’m your friend.”

He turns to me now, his jaw clenched and his body stiff. “I don’t make it a habit to fuck my friends. Or their girlfriends or ex-girlfriends.”

“Because you have so many morals?” I roll my eyes. “You didn’t have to have sex with me, Vic. Sorry I made you feel obligated. My bad.”

In an attempt to regain what small amount of dignity I have left, I hold my head high and leave the little apartment and head down to the body shop. Vic struggles to put on his jeans as I hurry through the garage, heading for the front door. As I’m about to reach for the handle, someone suddenly opens the door, startling me.

It’s Isa.

“What the fu—” she says, then immediately turns on the light and sees me and Vic standing in the shop. Vic is shirtless and his pants are still unbuttoned. I’m sure I look like a hot mess. “You scared the shit out of me, guys.”

“Sorry. I stopped by because I wanted to talk to Vic… and, umm…,” I say, sputtering out the words.

“I’ll bet,” she responds, then looks from him to me. “You guys okay? You both look like you’re pissed at the world, or each other. Or both. You can stay here and work things out.”

“I’m leaving because Vic doesn’t want me here,” I explain.

“That’s not true,” he chimes in, his voice as tense as his stubborn jaw.

I whip myself around. “Yes, it is. Don’t lie.”

“So everything’s not really fine,” Isabel says. “Why don’t we all sit down and talk about it, shall we?”

“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” Vic says as if he’s a martyr who’s sacrificing everything to aid me in my hour of need. “I already told her I’m sorry about everythin’ that happened tonight.”

Isabel’s hand flies to her mouth and her eyes go all wide. “Whoa. What does ‘everything’ mean?” she asks in a muffled voice with her hand still over her mouth.

Vic doesn’t acknowledge Isabel’s question. Instead, he says, “I mean, you wanted me to hold you and help you escape. You said it would be this one night. You wanted this—”

Isabel walks over to Vic and waves her hand in front of his face. “Yo, Vic. Maybe you should stop talkin’.”

“No, keep going,” I say sarcastically, wanting nothing more than to slap his bitterness away. “You’re on a roll. Why stop?”

He shakes his head. “I’m done.”

“You sure?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m sure.”

The last thing I want is for Vic to pity me or make me feel like I manipulated him into fooling around. But did I manipulate him into it? A wave of panic washes over me, because I didn’t tell Vic the truth. I don’t tell him that lately when I want the stress to go away I’m tempted to call him. I don’t tell him that when I’m with him, everything else just seems unimportant. I don’t tell him that a portion of me was relieved when I found out about Zara Hughes.

I poke his chest with my finger. “I’m not a charity case, Vic. I can do anything and everything on my own from now on.”

“Obviously,” he says as he looks down at my finger. “Hell, this was a one-night stand. You said it yourself.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” I say, then storm out of there.

Chapter Forty-seven

VICTOR

After Monika leaves the shop, Isa gives me one of her I’m-annoyed-with-you looks.

“What?”

She points to the sound of Monika’s car. “Go after her.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

There are so many reasons why I can’t follow her or lure her back here. “She wanted a one-night stand, Isa. An escape from reality. I was the dude she chose, but it’s over. End of story.”

Isa rolls her eyes, her Latina attitude coming out in all her gestures and body movements. “You’re an idiot, Victor Salazar. A complete and utter idiot. You could actually write a book on it. The Idiot’s Guide to being an Idiot.”

With a big sigh and a shake of her head, she starts walking up the stairs to her apartment.

“Why am I the idiot?”

“Because she needs you.”

“She needed a warm body, a guy to hold her and make her night.” For all I know, she would’ve picked Jet if he were here tonight instead of me.