Page 81 of Lunar Crest University

I turn suddenly, a bowl of pancake mix in hand, to see Finley standing in the doorway of her bedroom as she rubs her eyes sleepily. Her baggy T-shirt tickles the tops of her thighs as she stretches before walking over to me.

“I am.”

“That’s nice of you.” She smiles up at me as she reaches me.

Pouring the mix into a pan on the stove, I’m quiet as I watch her make coffee. If she senses something is off, she doesn’t say anything. I know she would say something. Instead, she makes two cups, pulling out the creamer and sugar before peeking up at me with a curious look.

I’m in the clear.

“I take it as is,” I tell her.

“No sugar?” she questions incredulously. “Nothing?”

Shaking my head, I turn back to the stove to flip the pancakes. “Don’t say a word,chica. Lots of people drink black coffee.”

She hums suggestively, coming up to place my cup of coffee next to me on the counter as she sips on her own. Peeking down at her over my shoulder, I see her cheeks lifting over the rim of her mug, and her eyes twinkle with amusement.

“I’m going to my mother’s today.” I clear my throat, taking the pan from the stove and scooping our pancakes onto two separate plates. “I’m staying for a few days.”

“Oh?” she squeaks. “You’re not going to class today?”

Pouring more mix into the pan, I twist to face her as I grab my coffee and take a long sip. “No. I’ve been promisingmi mamáI’d go see her, and I have some personal days to use. The trip didn’t count towards those.”

She nods understandingly, but I can see the disappointment written all over her face.

Here goes nothing.

“You could come,” I say. “Stay with me.”

The mug drops from her lips as she gapes up at me. Softness floods her features, along with some anxiety that dances along her knitted brows. “Come with you? Meet your m-mother?”

“Mi familia.” I face the pancakes again to flip them. My stomach flips nervously, and I swallow down the irritation that comes with that. Why am I so fucking nervous? “My sisters will be there too.”

“And you…” I hear her swallow thickly. “You wantmeto meet them?”

“Yes,Princesa.”

The guilt eats at my unsteady stomach, but I squash the feeling as quickly as it comes. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the truth, either. I know what this will insinuate to her, and while I’m not necessarily opposed to that, I can never give her what she wants. I just want her to be safe. So, I’m stalling, and everything can be dealt with when we come back.

She doesn’t say anything as I place the second round of pancakes onto the plates, setting them on the counter where her bar stools sit. I know her agreeing to something of this magnitude is unlikely—she’ll miss class, be behind on assignments, and it’s probably nerve-wracking to even think of meeting my family. Hell, I feel that too. But as she bounces on her heels before swiftly climbing into one of the bar stools, coffee mug in hand, the tiny smile that creeps onto her face tells me something different.

“Why would you want me to meet them?” she asks, averting my curious gaze as she digs into her food.

“Porque eres mi princesa.”

“Because…” She stops, looking over at me through an inquisitive squint. “I’m your princess?”

I raise a brow at her.

Finley shrugs. “I took Spanish in my first year of college. I know a little. Very little, though. I’ve just been trying to pay more attention. I want to…I don’t know. Learn more. For you.”

The guilt is back.

“You do,” I reiterate coolly.

Her nod is unsure, like she’s embarrassed, almost. I drop my fork on the table as I twist in my seat to face her, lifting my hands to brush her hair behind both of her ears as she turns to face me too. Pink stains her cheeks as her lips purse in a small pout.

“Why?” I ask.

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