Page 80 of Wild Catch
“That’s just how it is. I’m used to it.”
“But you shouldn’t be.” Rosalina leans forward. “That’s not right and you don’t deserve it. Yes, you’re more irritating than a thigh rub burn sometimes?—”
“Awhat?”
She continues, “But beneath that lone wolf act of yours, you’re a good guy. You do not deserve that, do you hear me?”
“What the hell is a thigh rub burn?”
She gives me an incredulous look. “That’s what happens when your thighs are chubby and they rub against each other until the skin burns. Do you understand the main point I’m trying to make?”
“And your thighs burn?” I ask, resting my elbow on the table and my chin on my hand, my mind latching onto the dimensions of Rose’s thighs.
“Logan.” She gives me a look. I give her one right back. She sighs. “Yes, they do. I’m wearing spandex right now to prevent rub burns.”
Good thing I like some cushion.
I sigh, trying to get my mind out of the gutter it’s sunk into all by itself. “And yeah, I get what you’re saying. But you’re wrong.”
“No, I’m not,” she says stubbornly.
“You are. You don’t know me.” I shrug. “That masking you so cleverly noticed? I do it all the time. I had to be coached by my agent and our PR team on how to conduct myself in public because otherwise I act like a jerk—and that’s what I really am.” Sardonically, I add, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Spreading both hands over the surface of the table, she leans as close as she physically can and murmurs in a kind of menacing tone, “Literally nothing I’ve seen since I’ve known you leads me to thinkapple, tree.”
“Here’s the cake,” a random voice says.
Rose and I turn to the same busy worker from before, and he’s coming in with the biggest slice of tres leches cake I’ve ever seen, a candle on top and all.
I whip my eyes toward Rose. She’s avoiding mine, or is simply busy with stacking baskets to make space. I do the same and we clear the table quickly. The guy places the cake between us, and I notice the two plastic spoons on the plate just as he reaches over with a lighter and lights up the candle. Collecting the empty baskets, he beats it back to the truck.
Slowly, I lift my eyes to Rose’s stubborn face. “Happy birthday, Logan.”
I don’t understand why the stubbornness. It’s not like I’d ever reject cake.
“Thank you.” I rub my chest, where my heart is thumping in a painful way. She signals at me to blow the candle and I do, and even though I’m not hungry at all I dig into the tres leches.
She doesn’t lecture me again after that, but I can practically feel her mind whirring as we walk back to my apartment so she can get her car.
The good news is that I don’t waste a single second thinking about my parents the rest of the night. The bad news is that now I can’t stop thinking about Rosalina Mena.
CHAPTER27
ROSE
It seems like my roommates are asleep by the time I get home at one in the morning. I remove my sandals and tiptoe my way to the back, passing Hope’s room to reach mine. I’m super careful closing my bedroom door because everyone here is a light sleeper.
But unlike the quiet in the house and the residence, I’m freaking buzzing.
I lock myself up in my bathroom with my phone. Checking it for the first time since getting on my car to drive home, I find a text from Logan that simply says,I’ll leave your stuff at your cubicle tomorrow. Nothing else. Zero acknowledgment about anything else.
“This freaking guy,” I grumble, tapping away from my text message app and to the contact list.
I find Mom’s and press call. She’s the only one who can talk my mind into making sense so I can get any sleep. Otherwise I’m going to ruminate about Logan Kim the entire night and hate myself at work tomorrow.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks upon taking the call, her voice slurring.
We have an evergreen agreement that we can call each other at any time and barring something truly incapacitating—like a surgery—we pick up right away, if only to check whether the topic is an emergency and agree on a callback. It’s both the privilege and downside of being a family that only consists of a Mom and daughter duo.
