Page 57 of Dead Set on You
His gaze turns positively wicked. “Rafael wouldn’t dare. Raffi is a different beast.”
“I’m surprised you’re still single.”
“Who says I am?”
I ignore the challenge in his eyes and the ridiculous tightening in my chest, and I hold up one finger. “For one, your atrocious driving skills.” Another finger pops up. “Your irrational obsession with carbs.” Then another. “The Violets of the world.”
“OnlyoneViolet.” Rafael pointedly waggles one finger. “And you forgotattempted murder.”
A snortle croaks out of me before I can stop it. We both freeze. Rafael stares at me as if I’ve sprouted horns.
I clear my throat, refusing to acknowledge the last few seconds. “I didn’t forget. Just trying to abide by your conditions, that’s all.” I shrug. “The third one is provingespeciallydifficult,” I drawl, giving Rafael a chance to forget he made me laugh and a chance to remember The Conditions™.
He leans back, resting his elbows on the stairs, mouth curling into a sly grin. “I am lovable, aren’t I?”
“In the way serial killers are lovable …”
Rafael barks a low, rumbling laugh that has me smiling too. I catch myself and immediately press my lips together.
I shift my gaze to my hands and remind myself we’ve gotten off track.Wayoff track. “If your grandmother is correct about priests and prayers, I have no clue where to start,” I admit.
“Luckily for you, I have a few connections,” Rafael says. “A priest, a rabbi, maybe a couple monks.”
“All of them?” I try not to break out in a sweat.
“Nothing but the best for Evie Pope.”
I roll my eyes, despite the lack of sarcasm in his voice. “You’re making it hard not to think you didn’t have something to do with my untimely demise.”
“One: You haven’t demised. And two—”
“Conditions! I didn’t forget.”
“Have to make sure. Head injury and all.” Rafael looks sidelong at me, face too serious to be actually serious, and I bite my cheek against another smile.
“I’m still obsessed with rules, thank you very much.”
“Oh, good. Otherwise, we’d be in real trouble.”
It’s hard to know what to make of this newthingbetween us. So I say nothing.
We’re quiet, long enough the crickets and breeze fill the silence. I know we should be going, but there’s something about this moment that makes me feel like theoldus, that makes me want to draw it out a little longer. Learn more about him. Make the most of his guards being down.
“Did you spend a lot of time here as a kid?” I dare.
He’s close enough I could lean in and our shoulders would brush.
I lean the other way.
“Most evenings. We lived two streets away. Me and the girls would walk here after school. Abuela would cook for us whilemy mom took care of other stuff. Carting us to sports and activities, grocery shopping, chores, whatever was needed.”
“And your dad?” I shouldn’t go there, but I can’t help myself.
Rafael clasps his hands together. “He worked a lot, built up his business from a young age and made it his life because a lot of people depended on him. It was important to be counted on—relied on—and that meant having direction and stability to him.” I could relate to that part. I don’t say anything. “From a young age, I knew he was counting on me to shoulder that burden. We had to, as the men of the family. I was going to go to law school and take over the family business, and he was going to slow down and take more trips with my mom. But when it came to it, I couldn’t do it.” He shrugs, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, not for a long time, but I knew I had tolikewhat I was doing. He didn’t agree. He also thought college would change my mind about law, and it didn’t. It made me realize it wasn’t for me, that no matter how much I wanted it to be different, none of his dreams were mine. I let him down.” The way he says those four words makes my breath catch.
“No, you didn’t,” I say, surprising myself … and him. His gaze meets mine. I freeze, holding my breath, desperately wanting to kick myself for interrupting him.
His chuckle sounds forced. “You and my mom share the same opinion, but I know my dad. He had his entire life mapped out—and I couldn’t even be counted on to continue what he started. How was I going to provide for a family? Be someone others could count on to be there? And by the time I had a better sense of what I wanted to do with my life, he was … gone.”
