Hands Down - Mariana Zapata Page 0,25

hot one who I’d heard through the grapevine had broken up with his girlfriend two months ago. I knew a couple of the neighbors had made bets on who was going to be the one to keep the apartment when it’d been clear things were going downhill for them. Apparently, he’d won.

I wasn’t exactly disappointed, even though I rarely got to see Santiago.

And I was suddenly a little grateful that, if I were going to be waiting by the visitor’s lot for Boogie to come pick me up, at least I was looking about as decent as I usually managed to get. Nothing got me to put some effort in like hanging out with my cousin, who didn’t know the meaning of “hot mess.” Plus, it had been a good day off. I’d gotten not one but two new vlogs filmed for my WatchTube channel and Picturegram account. And when I’d talked to Deepa again about quitting Maio House, she seemed into it. Between videos while we ate lunch, she had even started going through online ads for businesses hiring, and I’d watched her send a couple emails out for more details. That was more than she’d done the last few times I’d brought it up.

So, because of my good day and because I’d already put on makeup and done a little extra with my hair because of filming, I kept my “work” clothes on, which consisted of a skirt and a tucked-in loose blouse even though we were going to eat wings.

Right then, I was mostly just worried about my skirt flying up at a random gust of wind and showing everybody driving by my maroon underwear.

Specifically Santiago, who was two months single and possibly ready to mingle.

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

I was just thinking about my underwear and Santiago when the black pickup pulled through the opening gate and his silver car stopped at the keypad instead of piggybacking like everyone did.

The window rolled down right before I heard a “Bianca!”

I thanked God in that second that I’d never gotten all flustered over hot guys. The only things that had ever made me sweat was tres leches cake and lime sherbet.

And sometimes certain male body parts could hypnotize me, but not for long.

So I was able to lift my hand up and wave at the black-haired man leaning out of his car window with his forearm resting along it. “Hi, Santiago!”

“You locked out? Need a ride in?”

A ride. The jokes I could make with that.

“No, I’m okay. I’m just waiting to get picked up. Thank you though.”

“You sure?” the man I’d seen a couple times without a shirt on when he got home after a run hollered, making me imagine his six-pack for a second.

I gave him a thumbs-up and replied, “Yeah, no, it’s fine. He’s on his way.” I only slightly regretted not going into detail on who “he” was, but oh well. It had been a few months since I’d last gone on a date.

A memory of Boogie telling me to get out more crept through my head. I hoped he didn’t remember that conversation, because he wasn’t going to be happy if I had to tell him the truth. Does going to Target count?

The way-too-good-looking sheriff’s deputy smiled a smile that would have made a lesser woman throw her panties at him. “You sure?”

I smiled back, and right as I opened my mouth, a car pulled into the driveway for the complex and quickly turned left to stop directly in the visitor’s lot, right in front of where I was standing. It was a car I definitely recognized.

A four-door black sedan. Boogie’s car.

The passenger side window rolled down, and something else familiar appeared, even though it wasn’t what I was expecting.

Zac’s freaking smiling face. Zac’s freaking smiling face with its tan skin and high cheekbones and perfect nose. And he looked so happy.

“Hop in, we’re starvin’,” the man I’d seen weeks ago said.

What?

My old friend’s smile grew a little wider, flashing me more of that immaculate row of white teeth highlighted by the dark sunglasses protecting his eyes and making his skin look even more bronze. Back when we’d been kids, he’d been pale, but year after year of practices and working out under the sun nearly year-round had given him an incredible base coat. He was tanner than I was now.

“Get in, Peewee,” he said like I hadn’t heard him the first time.

I couldn’t see my cousin, but I heard him

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