“Quit being so fucking nice!” Austin slapped Mendoza on the back and we all laughed. “See where it gets you? Now let’s have a drink and not waste any more time or tequila on those pricks.”

“This isn’t any old tequila, my friends.” Mendoza held up the bottle. “It’s an Añejo, aged to perfection. Smooth as butter.” He showed me the label and I nodded, reading what I could as he watched me, before moving it to Kael.

Añejo or not, I knew I shouldn’t drink much more. Even with my mother’s tolerance for all vices, I could tell the alcohol was settling into my bloodstream. My cheeks were red—I could feel them.

But Kael was less blurry somehow.

You know those moments when someone suddenly looks different to you? Like you swipe and a filter covers the picture? Everything about them becomes a little deeper in color, a little more vibrant?

Kael was leaning against the counter in my dad’s kitchen of all places, answering trivial questions from my brother, when it all started to change. There was something about watching him there with Austin, the way he was standing with his back straight, his eyes a little more wild than usual. He was still the definition of composure, but there was something emanating from him in that moment.

Something strong and dark. I had to see more.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Martin, where you from?”

“Atlanta area. You?” Kael took a drink of his beer. And then another. I remembered that he said he was from Riverdale. Easier to say Atlanta, I supposed. I liked being in on one of his secrets.

Austin crossed his arms. “All over. Fort Bragg, Texas, and a couple others. You know, Army brat.”

Kael nodded. “Yeah. I can’t imagine, man.”

The doorbell rang. “Pizza? I hope so. I haven’t eaten all day,” Austin said, disappearing from the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” I asked Kael.

“Kind of. You?”

I nodded.

“Shall we?” I gestured toward the living room.

He nodded, smiled at me, and tossed his beer into the trash.

“Do you want another one?” I asked, looking into my almost empty cup and debating a refill.

“I’m good. One of us has to drive,” he said.

“Ah,” I said, biting my lower lip. Kael’s shoulder brushed against mine. He was standing so close to me. “I can stay here.”

His eyes widened a little.

“You can, too. There’s plenty of room.”

We had stopped walking, but I couldn’t remember when. He was looking down at me and I was looking up at him. The curve of his lashes shaded his brown eyes. The way he smelled like cinnamon. For the first time, the scent didn’t remind me of anything except him. My brain was short-circuiting, not connecting thought with my tongue.