Page 19 of Not For Keeps
Maya’s already there, bouncing on her toes, her hands clasped behind her back like she’s trying to play it cool. But I know she’s filled with nervous energy.
“Ready for this?” I ask, smirking as we walk up.
She grins, wide and mischievous. “I was born ready to kick Alejandro’s butt.”
We all crack up.
Andres lets out a low whistle. “Just like her mom,” he says, shaking his head with a smile.
Mateo crouches down in front of her, brushing a stray curl out of her face. “Remember, bebe—small bites, big heart. And if all else fails, distract them with your dimples.”
Maya giggles, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. He lifts her off the ground for a second before setting her back down.
“You got this,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She beams and walks over to the table with that same fire in her eyes I’d seen in the sack race mirror—determined, a little reckless, and completely her own. She takes her seat like the champion she knows she is.
The announcer calls it, and the contestbegins.
A bell rings, and the kids dive in like wild animals. Faces plant into whipped cream and crust, arms pinned behind their backs, laughter and cheering echoing around the field. Maya goes full beast mode—her curls bouncing with each determined bite. Her face is already a mess, and I’ve never been prouder. I’m mid-laugh when I feel someone step up beside me. I glance to my left—and freeze.
Fuck. It’s Nico.
He’s standing there like he belongs, hands in his pockets, smug as ever. Before I can even get a word out, Seb’s already moving. His body cuts through the group like a storm.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Seb growls, grabbing the front of Nico’s shirt and shoving him back a step.
Nico raises his eyebrows. “What? I can’t watch my daughter compete in a pie-eating contest?”
Seb’s lip curls. “Yourdaughter? You haven’t been around for a day of her life and now you want to show up like you’ve been father of the year? Are you fucking kidding me?”
His voice is low but sharp, slicing through the noise like a blade.
Nico’s smirk doesn’t budge. “Touchy,” he says.
Mateo’s suddenly between them, arm outstretched to push Seb back. Calm, but tight with restraint. Protective. Controlled in that way that always makes me nervous—like he’s the last step before a detonation.
Nico shifts his gaze, now settling on Mateo. “Oh, what’s this? The little boyfriend’s got something to say now?”
Mateo steps in closer, smiles cold and steady. “Yeah, this little boyfriend will lay you the fuck out.”
Nico snorts. “Chill, man?—”
“No.” Mateo cuts him off. “You wanna watch Maya? Fine. Stand back and keep your damn mouth shut. But you say one more word to any of us, and I swear to God, I’ll make sure you’ll be eating your next meal through a straw.”
Nico blinks, and the smugness flickers for just a second. Mateo doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Seb’s fists are still clenched, but he steps back, jaw locked.
I exhale slowly, heart pounding in my ears. Around us, the cheering continues—clueless, chaotic, joyful—like none of this is happening.
Maya’s laughter carries through the crowd, loud and proud, and I turn my eyes back to her. She’s got whipped cream on her nose and pie crust in her hair. She’s winning. She’s perfect. And I’ll be damned if Nico ruins this day.
After the pie-eating contest, which Maya won, Nico promptly left, giving Maya a quick congratulations and an awkward hug.
But before I can stop myself, I storm after him, heat rushing through me. “You don’t get to swoop in and confuse her life whenever it suits you.”
He spins, hands raised like he’s the victim here. “I just wanted to be part of it. That’s all.”
“Part of it?” I snap. “You’ve missed all of it. Every birthday. Every milestone. Now you want to walk in and play dad? Not happening.”
