Page 40 of The Crush
Muscle memory. Almost a week since Austin and that’s still the best I’ve got.Fucking muscle memory.
We run this like a drill. People see us together enough, they get used to it. People… Christ,fuckin’people. Ifpeoplewould mind their own damn business, this wouldn’t have to feel like a damn hostage negotiation.
Maybe it won’t be as disastrous as I think? After all, Isabel told me a few nights ago that Gabe knows and is fine with it. He’s evenhelping, which not only further cements his place as my favorite of her brothers but also makes me feel a little less like I’ll be automatically plunged into hellfire the second I walk into San Miguel’s tomorrow.
“How about this one?”
At Isabel’s question, I look up to see her holding a black suit she’s unearthed from one of my moving boxes as I rummage through another near my desk. Notexactlythe way I’d prefer to spend a rare Saturday night when we’re both free, but at least she’s over earlier than usual.
Rather than Saturday’s traditional family dinner, our parents had all gone into town with a larger group of friends and weren’t expected back until late. I had waited for as long as it took for the dust to settle behind my dad’s truck before getting into my own and driving to pick her up along the edge of her property. Safer, we thought, than risking her parents coming back and noticing her car gone.
“That one will work,” I say, straightening and making my way toward her through the maze of boxes and their disorganized contents. “Thanks, bonita.”
I lean down to kiss her before I take the suit, frowning at the deep wrinkles that had set into the fabric after I hastily threw my belongings into the boxes months ago. My stomach tightens at the reminder.
“Okay, so…” Isabel starts, returning to the box in search of the matching dress pants. “Tomorrow morning. 10 a.m. mass. The fourth pew from the—”
“Front right side,” I finish, trying to be reassuring. “I promise, I’ve got it.”
She finds the pants and holds them out, planting her hands on her hips after I take them. “And you still know the moves?”
I stare at her instead of setting off in search of a clothing iron. “The moves?”
“Yeah, you know…” She makes an exaggerated sign of the cross. “Like, do you know when to kneel and stuff?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, tossing the suit on top of my dresser and gathering her into my arms before I lean down to murmur in her ear. “Are you saying you want me on my knees?”
She laughs, shoving me playfully. “Be serious.”
I start to kneel, but she tugs me back up so she can kiss me instead, wrapping her arms around my waist as I let my hands sweep up and down her back.
“Even if it’s been a while since I’ve been to mass, I’ve probably still spent more time in church than you have,” I point out. “You don’t need to worry about whether or not I remember how to give the sign of peace.”
“I know.” She bites her bottom lip. “Youdoremember though, right?”
I step back and stick out my hand. “Peace be with you.”
“And also with you,” Isabel answers with a smile, clasping my hand in return and letting me use it as an excuse to pull her close again. “I’m sorry,” she says with a huff. “It’ll be fine. It’s only mass. Just feels like a lot of people watching.”
She’s not wrong, but I also know there is no better way to stay in Eva’s good graces than my attendance at mass. Just as there’s no better way to earn her father’s begrudging respect than being an active participant in Ag Hall meetings, even if the highest order of business this week had seemed to be whether or not we could rearrange some fucking coat hangers.
I wrap my arms tighter around her, reminding myself why I’m doing this, why we’d developed this shoestring plan the night we came back from Austin. “How can I help?”
She pauses, looks up at me through dark lashes. “You could take my mind off of it.”
“Take your mind off of it?”
“Yeah.” She leans up and brushes her lips against mine. “Make me stop thinking.”
I tilt my head as she works her way down to my neck, my eyes landing back on the open boxes on their way to the back of my skull. One item in particular catches my attention.
I tuck my finger under Isabel’s chin so she’ll look at me again. “You trust me?”
“Yes.”
I kiss her softly before I step away, reaching into the box and pulling out a long, red tie.
She wants to not think for a bit? Maybe a bit longer? I can do that.
