He gave a slow, lazy nod, his fingers tracing absent circles near my neck. “Mmm-hmm. Best tacos, best beaches, best places to sneak into when you don’t feel like paying.”

“Oh, so this is the plan now? You’re going to get us all arrested? Love that for us,” Tiffany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nathan’s laugh was low and smooth, like it had been rehearsed for moments just like this. “Relax. I’ll keep you out of trouble.”

Jamal snorted from the driver’s seat. “You seem like the type to start the trouble and let everyone else take the blame.” There was a slight edge to his voice, as if he was half-joking, half-serious.

Nathan clutched his chest in mock offense. “That hurts, man,” he said, feigning pain. “You wound me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You look hot,” Nathan murmured, leaning in, his voice just low enough that only I could hear.

“Gee, thanks,” I said, pushing my sunglasses up higher.

“I’m serious. You’re like...summer in a person.”

I snorted. “What does that even mean?”

He shrugged. “I’m not above a little corniness.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

It wasn’t like I was used to guys saying things like that.

“And yet, here I am. Sitting next to the prettiest girl in Mex⁠—”

“God,” Tiffany groaned. “Do you two ever stop?”

I grinned and leaned into Nathan—not because I needed to, but because I knew Tiffany was watching and I wanted to sell it.

I didn’t know when pretending to be happy with Nathan had started to feel easier than actually being happy with him, but that thought was one I decided to bury deep down.

“Jealous?” Nathan shot back with a smirk.

“Of what? Watching you drool all over Bev? Pass.”

“You’re just mad no one is flirting with you,” Jamal said.

She whipped her head toward him. “Excuse me?”

Jamal lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Just saying. If you wanted me to flirt with you, you could have just asked. It’s a well-known fact that if you’re not the center of attention, you get a little...grumpy.”

Tiffany scoffed. “Please. Like I need your attention.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“Then why do you sound mad?”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Tiffany warned him.

“Relax,” Jamal sighed, taking one hand off the wheel to hold his soda. “I’ve got this.”

“You’re not even looking at the GPS⁠—”

“I know where I’m going.”

“You said that yesterday,” she deadpanned, “and we ended up in a dead-end alley.”

“That was a detour⁠—”

“It was a sketchy back alley!”

I let my head fall back against the seat as they kept going, their voices rising and falling like background music. The sun poured through the window, warm against my skin. Nathan’s arm was still around me, his thumb tracing slow circles against my shoulder.