Page 31 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes
I nod, “I know.”
Her breath bounces on my lips as she whispers, “But I want to be.”
God yes, baby!
All I say is, “Me too.”
Leaning forward, she closes the distance between us. Her lips press to mine, and they cling.
When she breaks it this time, I’m not tensely awaiting what she’s going to say. I whisper, “Can we try something? Don’t run or shove me away next time you get scared, Roxy. And stop changing the locks.”
She laughs lightly. Her eyes are clear as she nods, “Okay.” Her lips purse. “I’m still mad that bitch hit on you in front of me. And Trent was right there.”
I laugh. “Good. Use that anger on me, baby. I think they might be swingers.”
Throwing her head back, she laughs. It’s rich and deep. “Whatever floats their boat. But I don’t share.”
My smile spreads over my face. “Neither do I and you’re mine.”
For the first time in forever… I think we just survived something and are heading toward something really good.
ROXY
* * *
Group dinner tonight is… weird.
Like, cold pizza and childhood trauma weird.
Everyone’s in comfortable clothes and softer moods, yet the air is heavy with tension and jasmine and plumeria-scented diffuser fog.
The table is laid out beautifully.
Pretty candles. Cloth napkins. A centerpiece that looks like Pinterest and Pottery Barn had a very vanilla baby. Chase cooked a fabulous meal, but no one’s eating it.
Something is brewing.
It starts quiet, like most heartbreak does.
Miguel reaches for Sasha’s water glass. She moves it away from him. He laughs like it’s funny. She doesn’t. Then, he says something low under his breath, that we can’t hear, and she goes still.
Oh shit.
I know that stillness.
It’s the kind that comes right before the dam breaks.
“I just think,” Sasha says, too calmly, “that vulnerability requires actual communication.”
Miguel’s voice stays flat. “I’ve been communicating.”
“You’ve been talking, Miguel. Not listening.”
“I listen—I just don’t always agree.”
“Oh, so disagreement means detachment now?”
And suddenly, the table’s not a table anymore.
