Page 10 of The Crush
“Glass slipped,” Daniel says, not quite facing his dad. “All fine.”
“Still, perhaps no more whiskey tonight, eh?” Tadeo responds, and I don’t have to look at Daniel to know he’s got that expression on his face again.
“Mija, I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” Tadeo continues, his keen eyes shifting back to me.
“I have an appointment tomorrow, so I thought I’d come today,” I repeat, unsure if it sounds any more believable this time than it did the first time.Probably not.
“Awfully nice of you to make the time.” Tadeo smiles warmly. “But you go on home. It’ll keep until next week.”
“Oh, are you sure? I can—”
“It’ll keep,” he says again, effectively herding me toward the door and only leaving me time for one more glance in Daniel’s direction before I’m back on the front porch.
“Tadeo,” I start to say, never one to deal well with the feeling of having disappointed someone. “I really did come over to—”
“You have never needed an excuse to be in this house,” he says firmly, though his eyes stay kind. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
I nod, whispering a good night before I head for my car, the elation I’d felt in the kitchen rapidly disappearing the farther I get from the house.
Maybe if I hadn’t taken that last glimpse at Daniel. If I hadn’t seen the look on his face, I think I could’ve held onto that warm thrum in my blood longer. Or at least, I wouldn’t be holding back tears until I’m far enough away that they can’t be seen.
Regret.All I’d seen was regret.
Nine
Daniel
I’m already palming a new glass from the cabinet and reaching for the whiskey bottle, willing myself to calm down, when my dad walks back in. I can feel him watching for the whole time it takes me to pour a generous serving, but I remain facing the counter, the same spot where I’d had Isabel wrapped around me, those gorgeous legs at my waist, her fingers in my hair, her mouth on mine.So much for staying away.
Whatthe fuckhad I been thinking? If my dad hadn’t walked in, what would’ve happened?
Christ, I know what I hadwantedto happen. I had wanted to take her right there, to find out how many other sounds she could make from that mouth.
I had wanted to lose myself in it. Still do. Wanted to make someone—her—feel good. To watch her burn when I feel like everything else I’ve touched has already turned to ash.
Damn whether it was right to want her. And damn the consequences.
“Say what you’re going to say,” I tell my dad, finally turning around when I can’t stand it any longer.
“Not really anything Ineedto say, right?”
“Pop—”
He waves me off. “She’s a good girl, mijo, and…I know you think you’re too old for a lecture, but I’m not so old that I don’t remember the way she used to look at you when she was a teenager.” He chuckles. “Not so different from the way she looks at you now.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, my eyes squeezing shut as if that will be enough to stop myself from seeing the exact look he’s talking about, the one that makes me feel like I’m not completely irredeemable. And the one that apparently makes me want to do things that would say otherwise.
“Be careful with that one, okay?” he continues. “The heart has a way of holding onto things.”
“Meaning?”
“She’s got a crush on you, Danny. Always has. I don’t want her getting hurt thinking something could happen.”
Because it can’tis the unspoken end of that sentence. Even if my dad is unsure of exactly what he walked in on, he isn’t a fool. He suspects, and is telling me without spelling it out to save us both the discomfort. I stare down at my injured hand, at the neat bandage that can’t quite make me forget the sting.
She’s all soft edges, and I’m all shrapnel. How could I help but cut her?
“Mijo, did you hear—”
