I really am getting defensive. I can be honest about that, at least. I’m not sure why he’s riling me up so much today, but it’s obvious. I can usually take all of his teasing easily. Today, it’s like he’s struck a chord I’d rather he’d left alone.

I give him a curt dip of the head.

“Seriously, though, I’m just messing with you man. I don’t care if you want her or if you’re in the mood to go pick a stranger at the bar and get laid. But truth is, you’ve looked happier this past week, and I can’t help but think it’s related to her staying in Sonder Hill. That’s all.”

I swallow, still unable to fully catch my breath. I don’t bother thinking about what he’s just said. I don’t know if it’s true, and I don’t care if it is. It won’t change anything.

In one swift move, I steal the puck from him and get back to the game.

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Wren

I knock on the heavy, detailed wooden door of the Scott-Perez house three times, then clasp my hands in front of me.

It still feels weird that I’m walking up to my clients’ house for reasons other than work. I’ve never had the kind of relationship with any other clients that I do with the Scott-Perez family. It’s not like I’ve voluntarily tried to insert myself into their lives. It kind of happened on its own. The majority of the time, I try to put some distance between us when I realize I’m getting attached to them as more than professional acquaintances, but it’s hard. They’re always so lovely.

The door opens, Martina’s round face lighting up in a warm smile when she sees me. “Wren, hi!” She doesn’t even look surprised that I’m standing on her porch a Sunday at 5:00 p.m. She’s not wearing a stitch of makeup, her ears adorned with large black earrings.

“Hi, so sorry to bother you. I was looking for—”

“Aarón, alguien está aquí para ti,” she shouts behind her before I’ve had the time to finish my train of thought. Turning back to me, she says, “He shouldn’t be long.” She even caps that with a wink.

Oh God. Is she getting the wrong idea?

I can’t try to rectify things, though, because a second later, Aaron appears behind his mother. His hair is wet, dripping over his thick wool sweater. The maroon color makes his light-colored eyes shine even more than usual.

Lord, why did he have to be this handsome?

“Hey, what’s up?” he says.