Page 29 of American Sweethearts

I did laugh then, because I should’ve known. “Okay, so basically all you needed to hear was that you were right all along to get all relaxed and shit.”

She laughed again and leaned closer, her hands gripping the edge of my breakfast counter, but whatever she was going to say wiped the smile off her face. By the time she opened her mouth, her eyes were as serious as I’d ever seen them. And just under that seriousness, I saw a flicker of the small flame of hope that was burning in my gut. “What are we going to do, J? Did we just ruin our chance at being friends?”

She looked scared and it carved out a hole in my chest.

“Can we start bytryingto be friends again, Pris?” I swallowed, having trouble believing I was actually saying it. “I mean, you know my dick and pretty much every part of my body is always up for whatever with you, and after what we just did, I’m gonna need a dick cage or something when I’m around you.” That at least made her laugh, but I wanted to say this next part. “I’m not going to lie. I’d love to keep exploring this,” I explained, as I came closer so that I was standing in front of her. “But I don’t want anything that stresses you out. I want to be a good part of your life again.”

She closed her eyes and I had to squeeze my fists hard to keep from reaching out for her. But we needed to talk this out. “This doesn’t have to happen again. We can go back to just friends, no benefits.” My heart was galloping in my chest, my vision blurry from the fear that Pris would walk out of here today and that would be the end.

But when she opened her eyes, they weren’t sad anymore. “I don’t know if I can do a relationship right now, J. Or maybe ever again.”

Okay that hurt, that really fucking hurt, but I wasn’t going to fight her on that, so I just nodded, resigned.

“But.” She tapped a finger on my chest, and gave me a sad smile. “Tonight was good, so thank you.”

“I’m not gonna ask if I can get some of that good good again,” I said, as I sucked my teeth, flexed my biceps and generally acted up. “But you know I always, always want it. And now that you know where I live, you know whereyoucan get it.”

“You’re a fucking clown.” There was no malice in her words, just the familiar helplessly amused tone Pris sometimes got when we were together and I goofed around on her.

“This is true, but I am a clown that’s been in therapy for a while now and I don’t want to fuck this up. I want you back in my life, Priscilla. I miss you.”

She nodded once and then leaned all the way over the table to kiss me once, gently, on the cheek. She looked content, if still a bit reserved. And something that had been cold and dead in my chest for years, pulsed with warmth.

“I can’t promise anything beyond knowing I don’t want to close this door. That’s the best I can do right now. And I’m not gonna lie, this place is pretty swank; I wouldn’t mind dropping by every once in a while.”

I pounced on that in a hot second. Even though neither of us would say it right now, we both knew her taste and the things she’d always said she liked were present in a hundred different ways all over the apartment. “Tu sabes que mi casa es tu casa. Siempre.”

“Okay, Imma eat my food and get back into that bomb bed of yours for a nap before I head home. I can’t show up at dawn with my parents there, but you wore me out.” A shy smile, a nod, and it seemed like we’d sealed the deal, and started a new page.

I looked at her for a second and held my tongue because I wanted to say all kinds of reckless shit. But I wouldn’t fuck thisup. No, I’d slowly show her that I could be the person she leaned on, who got her. That could hold it down when she needed it.

That I wanted to be all of that for her. Not because I was her soulmate. Like her, I knew that there were probably other people I could be happy with. But still, Pris was the only one I wanted. And if tonight had proved anything, it was that we still worked a hell of a lot better together than we did apart.

chapter twenty

priscilla

I got to the Uptown Center about thirty minutes before my first ever workshop there was about to start, feeling a hot mess. I saw through the glass doors that the place was still busy almost at 7:00 p.m., and despite my foul mood, a small frisson of excitement ran through me. It was scary to blend my two worlds like this, but being able to do one of my workshops in my old hood felt special. Things with J had been…interesting since that night we hooked up. I’d expected salacious texts at midnight or other suggestive behavior pushing for more. But nothing came. He’d been more than clear about what he wanted, but the ball was in my court when it came to taking it further.

So far I’d resisted the temptation of showing up at his house. Not just the sex, and I would be a liar if I didn’t admit I wanted it all the time. I wanted what we’d had that night, the ease, the comfort. But it almost felt like a mirage. Like that night had been a fluke to trick me into believing in something that wasn’t really there. But I wasn’t here to agonize about J on the sidewalk. I was here to work.

I leaned against the cold brick wall of the building and took a couple of breaths, trying to let the tension of the day seep out. Just as my breathing was getting back to normal, my work phone buzzed. The dread swirling in my stomach over a simple call from work should’ve been indicator enough that I neededto rethink my career. But that was yet another topic that would need to stay in the “Avoidance” shelf for a bit longer. I sighed, hoping it wasn’t more bad news and pulled it out of my jacket pocket. As soon as I read the first few words of the message from Bri, I knew it wouldn’t be good.

Hey, babe, I hope you don’t get this until after your class AND I don’t want you to worry, but looks like April didn’t come home last night or to school today. Sanchez is on it. But since you asked me to let you know if anything happened with that case, I’m giving you a heads-up. Good luck. Call me later.

Fuck. This was one of the cases that was keeping me up at night. A twelve-year-old, who in the past year had gotten pregnant and miscarried and, not surprisingly, had been acting out since. She lived with her mom and stepdad and the story was that she’d been hooking up with some thirteen-year-old who’d only been in town for the summer, and had gone back to Georgia. No one could give any details on this kid, who he was staying with, even a last name. None of it added up.

But that was the story, and she was still sticking to it. Something about the stepdad gave me the creeps. But since he seemed to have his shit together, no matter how much I pushed about it, the rest of the team—other than Bri—didn’t think anything was happening there. I’d been keeping tabs on her, certain things weren’t good at home, but I couldn’t do much if she didn’t give us much to go on. Except now she was starting to stay out all night.

Dammit, Bri. Something is seriously wrong in that house.

I gripped my phone, trying hard not to get all worked up. This was technically not even my domain yet. Not until she gave us more information. And that was not happening just yet. I was looking intently at the dots indicating that Bri was working on a response when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

Before I could even think about what I was doing, I turned around, my fist in the air.

“Jesus, Priscilla, chill.” J looked startled and a little pale as his chest heaved up and down, but I was too on edge to think sneaking up on me on the street like that was cute.

“No, you know better than to run up on a cop like that. I’m PMSing, too; you’re lucky you still have all your teeth. What the fuck, Juan Pablo?” I was yelling at him, full on screaming, and something about my face must’ve been really scary because he didn’t say a word. I was expecting to see the vein on his forehead that usually popped out when he was really heated make an appearance.