Resplendent (5 page)

I let out a laugh. “Hot, of course.” It was true. Carmin had wider hips than me and a nicer behind. The jeans really
did
look good on her. Did Andres prefer booty over boobs? I looked down at my chest where my perky breasts stayed hidden and hoped it was boobs.

Okay, stop wondering!
I scolded myself as Carmin rang the doorbell and we waited.

It was Taco Tuesday at the Rivera home, and Andres had explained to me that they did it every time a game landed on a Tuesday. Andres’ dad made the ground beef, and all the boys from the team brought in the toppings. It was a ritual they had started since freshman year.

When Andres opened the door, my heart went into overdrive. I held my hands together in front of me, noticing how clammy they were.

“Finally, you’re here,” he said. His eyes raked up and down my body. I had to focus on breathing.

He had clearly just showered. His hair was still wet with dark strands sticking up. A tight T-shirt with his High School baseball logo showcased his lean muscles, and light-washed blue jeans hung low on his hips. He was also barefoot. My eyes fell on his face and I knew I was addicted—a straight nose, thick but not bushy eyebrows, Hershey brown eyes, and full lips encased straight teeth any dentist would be jealous of.

I cleared my throat. “My mom used to tell me it wasn’t good to walk around barefoot,” I advised him, and Andres belted out a loud laugh. The sound wrapped around my body and flowed through me like a current. He walked out and gave both of us a friendly kiss on the cheek. But when he stood in front of me he held both my hands and extended them sideways, taking in the view.

“Pretty girl.” He winked.

I blushed and released my hands from his grasp.

“You think so?” Carmin blurted out. When I turned my head to face her, she had her hands in her back pockets but wouldn’t meet my eyes. She wasn’t smiling.

Andres tilted his head to the side and glanced between the both of us. “I’m sure of it.” His eyes lingered a little on my chest.

I had to think of something quickly. “Is Adam here?”

Andres frowned and dropped my arms.

“Adam? Why do you ask?” Ugh, I didn’t want to bring him up, but it was the best I could do to distract him from blatantly checking me out.

“Andres, are you going to keep your guests out there all night?” A booming voice sounded behind him, and when I tilted my head, I saw a tall, older man, staring back at us. Immediately, I could see the resemblance and got a glance at what Andres would look like when he was in his late forties. I approved.

We walked inside and were also introduced to Victoria, Andres’ sister. She was the only other girl there. Julio, Andres’ dad, announced dinner was ready. A mob of rowdy, testosterone-filled boys rushed to the buffet table. They clearly must not have eaten a single meal ALL day with the way they were fighting for food. I laughed as I watched their horseplay and waited my turn.

It took about half an hour to get twelve boys—minus Dre—settled in their spots with food and drinks. Once everyone was seated, including Carmin and Victoria, I got up from the sofa and walked over to the table. I could see Andres get up as well and follow me out of the corner of my eye. He stood next to me and watched as I fixed my taco with extra hot sauce. I tried not to spill anything as I laid it on thick. My routine was always the same, a layer of sauce, meat, sauce, toppings, and then sauce again. My concentration was broken with Andres’ chuckle. That laugh of his caused warmth over my skin and a drop of sauce fell on the floor.
Crap.
I turned my head slightly to stare at him.

“Yes?” I asked and pursed my lips.

“You sure you want all of that?” The corners of his lips curled and his eyes lit up in amusement.

I held up the spoon in mid-air and squinted my eyes. “I can handle it,” I smirked.

“Are you sure? Because if anyone is the master of hot sauce that would be…” He looked around the room before resting his eyes on mine and pointed to himself with his index finger. “This guy right here.”

“Well, then you’ve met your match.” I challenged and finished fixing up my plate. I grabbed a napkin and thought of something else before I turned around to go back to my seat. “And no, I’m not Mexican.”

Andres nodded, as if he knew exactly what I meant. “I wasn’t going to ask. I hate when people ask me that. I don’t understand what the deal is. Lots of non-Mexicans like spicy food.”

I rolled my eyes. “Exactly! The joke is old. For the record, I’m Colombian and I like all types of Latin food.” I poured myself a cup of soda and went to move out of his way but he held me back by my elbow.

“Wait for me,” he whispered in my ear and I involuntarily shivered.

I watched as he fixed his own plate; a heap of six tacos and a messy trail of hot sauce over the meat. He didn’t even finish stacking them neatly into rows before taking a bite out of one of them. I shook my head and he grinned at me.

“What?” he muffled.
Boys.

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” Adam asked Andres, with a smile on his face as we walked toward him on the couch.

Andres shrugged. “I wasn’t, now I am.”

I sat down next to Adam and noticed Carmin was sitting at the dining room table and glancing over at all of us.

“Andres, why don’t you sit here next to me?” Carmin said, pulling out the chair next to her with her foot.

I turned my head to look back at Andres and caught him throwing daggers at Adam with his eyes.

“No, that’s Adam’s chair,” Andres answered without looking at her. “Why don’t you sit at your usual spot?” He stared at Adam and waited.

“What usual spot? We don’t have any?” Adam responded, his eyebrows pulling together. He was either an idiot or didn’t care that Andres was getting pissed.

Andres glanced down and I could see his jaw tense up. When I followed his line of vision, I saw Adam’s thighs almost rubbed up against mine. I didn’t want to move a muscle. Andres looked like he wanted to kill Adam.

“We do. You sit over there,” he said with a growl, jerking his head toward the chair next to Carmin. I could feel Carmin burning holes behind our heads while I squirmed in my seat.
Awkward
. I grabbed my cup of soda off the floor, and I debated if I should stand up to find somewhere else to sit, when Andres saw my intentions.

“Move!” He snapped at Adam and stepped in front of him.

Adam held up his hands and chuckled. “All right, all right, no need to yell—Romeo.” He bumped his shoulder with Andres as he walked by him. Finally, Andres was able to sit next to me, close enough that
our
thighs were touching. I sat up straight and took a big gulp of my drink. The room had grown quiet as every eye had been focused on the whole interaction. My face was on fire.

Slowly, the chatter of conversation around us picked up, and the crunching of the taco shells kept our mouths busy, but the silence between Dre and me was deafening. I debated on what to say. Should we make small talk? Bring up his game? I knew his team had won, I could ask him about the score. He beat me to conversation and asked, “So what sauce did you use?” before taking a bite of his taco.

I wiped my mouth with my napkin before speaking and saw that Andres was staring down at my lips.

“Tapatio,” I answered.

He smiled and held up his plate. “Same here.”

I smiled back and crossed my ankles together. His chest expanded as he inhaled a long breath before my eyes trailed to the finger he brushed along my knee. “Are you into Adam?” he asked quietly, leaning in so no one would hear us.

With the half-eaten taco in front of my slightly opened mouth, I looked at him.

His eyes were as hard as stone.

“Is that what this is about?” I asked.

I shifted my head and caught Carmin’s eyes, but she quickly turned her head and laughed loudly at something Adam must have said.

Okay, he clearly has no clue about Carmin’s feelings
. I placed the taco back on my plate “I wish I was, but—” I began to answer him, and shook my head. “No, I’m not.” I couldn’t lie about liking Adam—there was no point.

“You sure?” He pressed, with his hands on my knee. “I’d leave you alone if you are, you know.”

I could feel the warmth of his hand radiating through my jeans and I shook my head again. I knew that if he left me alone, I wouldn’t like it.

“It’s not that,” I whispered, my heart beating like a drum.

“You’re acting so strange. Different than on the phone.” He took a bite and swallowed before giving me a goofy grin. “You don’t have to be shy with me.”

That wasn’t the problem
. I looked around and noticed how tiny the room seemed now that a bunch of people sat close enough to be listening. I decided to change the subject instead. It wasn’t that I was shy around him necessarily.

“So how long have you played baseball?” I asked, glad I hadn’t thought to ask him this when we’d talked on the phone.

“Since I was a kid.” Andres finished off his third taco and grabbed the fourth.

“My dad’s a fan of the sport and I’ve always enjoyed it.”

I nodded before continuing, “Do you want to play after you graduate?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Nah, it’s just for fun. I’m going to work with my dad and help him start up a family business of kitchen remodeling.”

“Well, you’ll be graduating this year. What about college?”

He froze and looked at me again, as if caught off guard.
Was this a sore subject?
He cleared his throat and waved his hand like it was no big deal.

“I don’t think it’s necessary. He has all the licensing and experience already. I just need to help him promote and expand.”

“But, you could learn so much more,” I insisted.

“Peach, my dad needs my help,” he replied exasperated. “So that’s what I’m going to do.”

I decided not to press the subject. “Okay … if you’re sure.”

Julio walked past us and headed toward the kitchen. Dre had mentioned over the phone that their mom died when he and his sister, Victoria, were little, so I knew his dad and grandmother were the ones who raised them. Julio reminded me of my own father, a tall, strong man who took care of his family. My chest suddenly felt heavy.

“You could say that … and I like the work. I’m very hands on.” If he wasn’t so close to me, I would’ve missed the sexual innuendo. I stayed stark still as he reached up to move a lock of hair behind my ear, his finger trailing down against my neck. With my eyes at half mast, I refused to close them all the way, reminding myself there were people in the room who were watching us. Carmin specifically. Each time I thought I felt her watching I’d sneak a glance, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I decided to play it safe.

“What about you? Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?” he asked, finally breaking the spell I was under. I took a sip of my soda to help my suddenly dry throat before answering.

“A photographer,” I said proudly.

“Really? Of what, landscapes?” His eyebrows shot up in interest.

This was an easy question for me. I shook my head. “No. People. You know—portraits, candids, maybe weddings eventually…” My voice caught and I decided to take another sip. My cup was nearly empty now; soon I’d have to think of another way to help keep me calm. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he turned his body to face me.

“Wait a minute, aren’t you and Carmin both the same age? Sixteen and sophomores?”

“We’re both sixteen, but I’m a junior. I skipped second grade,” I said bashfully.

Andres grinned widely and asked, “So how are you sisters?”

His boyish charm made me laugh out loud. “We aren’t really…”

He snapped his fingers as if he’d just cracked a case. He didn’t say anything but kept staring at me and waited for me to continue.

I squinted my eyes, confused by his behavior. “Our moms were best friends, and we grew up together. When I moved in with them, we decided we’d call ourselves sisters.”

“Why’d you guys move in together?” he asked and my smile faded.

I quickly thought of another question, “Are you going to eat all of those?” and pointed to his plate. He still had two tacos left.

Andres looked down at his plate and shrugged. At least it seemed to distract him from the family questions—for now.

“I’m six-two. I’m a growing boy.” He grinned. “Haven’t you ever seen a group of guys pig out before?”

I placed the napkin under my plate and prepared to stand up. “I don’t really hang out with any groups of boys,” I answered honestly.

Andres relaxed his shoulders and hooked his index finger with mine.

“Well, hopefully you aren’t turned off by it, and you’ll come back again? Maybe for next Tuesday’s taco night?” he asked hopefully.

Carmin stepped into our line of vision and shook her cup in her hand. “Andres, can you get me a refill?” She batted her eyelashes. My stomach clenched at the way she said
Andres
, with a tone like honey.

The soda bottles were on the dining table—where she had just come from.

“All right.” He let go of my finger and got up with his food and cup in one hand. “But next time, you can make yourself at home and serve yourself.”