Page 13 of When Love Changes Everything

I turn to Lisa, narrowing my eyes. “I can’t believe you just did that,” I say, aiming for a disapproving look, though the spark in her gaze tells me she’s far from remorseful.

When Mandy brings out our food, I glance up at her, but she refuses to make eye contact with me.

Lisa and I sit together, drifting through a lighthearted conversation about nothing in particular. But somehow, every word she says pulls me in, like it’s the most captivating story I’ve ever heard. I can’t look away, my attention caught on the way her eyes light up and her laughter fills the space between us. Even the smallest details she shares seem to matter, simply because she’s the one saying them. I sip my coffee, unable to take my eyes off her as she devours her breakfast with the enthusiasm of a teenager at boot camp. It’s endearing—and somehow, even now, she’s beautiful. Every movement, every smile, pulls me in. God, she’s breathtaking—even with that little furrowed brow of concentration as she eats. A crumb of toast clings to her lips, and the urge to lean over and kiss it away, to taste that warm laughter and sweetness, nearly overwhelms me. But before I can even entertain the thought of acting, she casually wipes her mouth with a napkin, completely unaware of just how close I amto letting my restraint slip. She has no idea the effect she has on me—how one simple gesture could push me right over the edge.

When she excuses herself to go to the ladies' room, I take the chance to wave Mandy over, still feeling a pang of guilt. “Mandy, I’m sorry about earlier," I begin. "I should’ve made it clear—I’m retired from the dating scene. I won’t be going out with anyone while I’m here.”

Mandy lets out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head with a wry smile. “Men!” she exclaims, crossing her arms. “You all think you’re so mysterious.” She gives me a playful look, but there’s a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I offer, looking into her eyes, hoping she’ll understand something I can’t quite comprehend myself. Why am I turning down an invitation from a beautiful, vibrant young woman offering me a good time with no strings attached? What is wrong with me? The question settles inside me, nagging and persistent.

“Don’t apologize,” she replies, her hazel eyes glinting with something almost wistful. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“Pardon me?” I ask, feeling a wave of confusion, questioning myself as much as her.

She chuckles. “Mateo, you’re as sexy as you are oblivious.”

“Oh yeah?” I lean in, my voice low, challenging. “Go on, then. Enlighten me.”

She arches an eyebrow, her gaze sharp and knowing. “You’re hooked, and she knows it. And if you don’t see it yet… trust me. You will.”

I spot Lisa making her way back to our table, and I immediately straighten in my chair. What the heck is wrong with me?

“Ready to go?” she asks, glancing between me and Mandy.

“Yeah,” I reply, tossing a couple of fifty-dollar bills on the table.

“Thank you, Mateo,” Mandy says, scooping up the money with a warm smile. Then, she leans in and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “I hope to see you again before you leave.”

***

Lisa strides out of the restaurant ahead of me, leaving a palpable tension in her wake. I quicken my pace to catch up, the feeling gnawing at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask, hoping she’ll let me in.

“Nothing,” she replies, her tone clipped. “I’m just in a hurry. I have to pick up my dad in New York, and I’m running late.”

Before I can think twice, the words are out. “Want me to come with you?”

The second I say it, I mentally kick myself. She doesn’t need me tagging along.

She pauses, looking back at me with a mix of surprise and something unreadable. As she gets into her car and rolls down the window, I catch the glint of gold and turquoise in her clear blue eyes, and it’s like a punch to the chest. I could lose myself in those eyes—and I’m pretty sure I’d go willingly.

She turns the key. Nothing. She tries again. Silence. Her car is dead.

“Ugh, this can’t be happening,” she mutters, dropping her forehead onto the steering wheel, frustration radiating off her in waves. She turns the key one last time, her voice a desperate plea. “For the love of all that is holy, please, please don’t do this to me!” The car remains stubbornly silent, and her shoulders slump in defeat.

“Come on,” I say, pulling out my phone. Lisa steps out of the car and leans against it, arms crossed, impatience radiating from her as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. I press a button and hold the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Carter’s Auto Repair,” a voice says in greeting after the first ring.

“Carter?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he replies.

“Hey, this is Mateo Cruz.”

“Mateo! I thought you were back in Mexico.”

“I'm here, at least until after the holidays,” I say, glancing back at Lisa. “Listen, I need a tow at Beacon Falls Café. It’s a late-model red Toyota Camry, license plate PRESTN99.”

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