“Well, yeah. He invites himself. I like it; I miss him. You know I have some friends, I know a lot of people, but it’s different with Zac. It was just like putting on old shoes that fit really great.”

“You’re sure?”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not his type, Con. I was just reminding him about when I used to fart around him not too long ago. I love him, but I only dream about things I can make happen on my own now.”

“Or with me.”

I smiled. “Or with you.”

“I don’t ask because I worry about your feelings, B. You know that, right? I just want to know if there’s something going on you didn’t want to tell me about.”

“Nope.”

Her face got thoughtful again.

“Nope,” I repeated.

She sighed. “You get along so well though…. I don’t know, B. I guess it’d be cute if things were different.” I wasn’t sure what she meant by different. What? If Boogie wasn’t his best friend? If I was older or prettier? Or he was different and wanted something serious?

“Well, we’re just meant to be friends, and there’s nothing there like that. I doubt he would ever do anything to ruin the longest relationship he’s ever had.”

“Well, whatever. It’d be nice to get some tickets in the box if you know what I’m saying.” She elbowed me.

I laughed. “I’m sure if you just asked, he’d get you tickets.”

“He probably would, right?”

“I think so.”

“Club tickets would be cool.”

I looked at her.

“Box tickets would be nicer.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Your mama’s a monster.”

Chapter Thirteen

We were inside the event hall when Boogie stopped in front of the double doors that led into the ballroom and lifted his arms to block us from going any further.

I was trailing at the end of our small group—the kids, Connie, Zac, my cousin, and I—

trying not to limp over my stupidity. I’d decided to wear brand-new shoes without breaking them in, like a newbie, and was going to need a Band-Aid ASAP. As in, the second we sat down, I was kicking these bitches off and stealing one or two from Connie. She always had a bunch in her purse. Just earlier in the day, before the mass for Lola’s quince, we’d gone to the outlet mall and Guillermo had busted his ass in the parking lot, requiring two.

“What are you doing, Boog? I need to take these shoes off before my toes start bleeding,” I whined the second I saw what he was doing.

“Yeah, Boog, what are you doing?” Connie echoed as she held her phone against her face. “No, Mom, I’m talking to Boogie,” she backtracked into the receiver.

I’d been side-eyeing her and eavesdropping on her conversation the entire ride to the event hall. I’d tried to call my mom while we’d been at the mall, but she hadn’t answered. All I’d wanted was to check in with her. She hadn’t called me back either, but she had randomly called Connie. I’d yelled out a “hi” in the car and gotten a “hello, my love” back.

I hadn’t rolled my eyes. I’d stopped doing that a long time ago.

“I thought food was going to start getting served soon?” Zac piped in as he hovered at my side, bringing me back to what the hell Boogie was doing.

I tried my best not to look at Zac, especially after the conversation I’d had with my sister the night before.

And especially not when he was dressed in a sleek dark blue suit that hugged his body like it had been tailor-made for him—which it more than likely had been—and a white shirt. The worst part was that he’d brushed his hair at some point since we’d had breakfast that morning; he’d gone over to Boogie’s afterward and spent hours playing Call of Duty or something beforehand. When my niece had opened the door after he’d knocked and he’d strolled into our small, messy room, I’d felt something in me stutter for a second. But I’d sucked that shit up even though I’d whistled at him and asked if Mama had packed his clothes for him.

The truth was, he looked great, just like a prince but better.

And, unfortunately, I had a bunch of distant relatives with no shame that I was mentally preparing myself to have to put up with, coming up and fawning all over him. I mean, they could do whatever they wanted, and so could he.

“One second,” Boogie told us before dropping his arms. “I need you to promise me something.”

After looking around like there was someone else he could be talking to, Connie asked, “Who?”

Our cousin flicked his finger at us—at me and Con.

I blinked. “What? Why me?”

“The dancing—” he started to say before Connie scoffed.

“You’re not doing that again. Let’s go sit down,” she muttered, shoving him to the side and then saying something to our mom on the phone.

I pointed at Boogie and stuck my tongue out as we passed him, heading toward a table close to one of the four beautiful, curtain-covered walls, right at the edge of the hall. Luckily, we were early and there weren’t that many people already in the salon. Most of our family were pretty shit at getting anywhere on time, but we had all wanted to take advantage of the free food. Well, at least, some of us did. I couldn’t speak for Zac, but I was pretty positive I’d spotted a package of beef jerky in his jacket pocket.

We sat around the table, Zac taking a chair on the other side of Boogie, right by me. My nephew was on my other side.

“No, listen to me,” our cousin started up again as he scooted his chair in. “There are certain things nobody wants to see, especially me. So the two of you need to keep it together.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bianca, do you know what he’s talking about?” Connie asked as she pushed her chair in and folded her hands on top of the sequined, lavender tablecloth. She was already done talking, I guess. That had been quick.

I shook my head as I scooted my chair forward too and grabbed the napkin that had been folded into the shape of a swan, ready to use that shit the second the food started getting served, any minute now, I figured. “Nope, I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Actually, I was pretty sure I did—mostly because I did actually remember what had happened the last time Connie and I had been to a family party that had booze and a dance floor. I regretted nothing.

“Bullshit,” Boogie muttered before he cringed. “I’m sorry, kids.”

Connie and I both snorted. Like they hadn’t heard worse just about every other hour of their lives. Oh, Boogie.

“B.S.,” he corrected himself and kept going. “You’ve got to keep it PG tonight. There are kids around; this isn’t a wedding. No tootsie rolls—”

I don’t know what it said about me and my sister that we both gasped.

Zac slid right in, turning that soft blue gaze toward me with an amused expression on his face. “You’re too young to know how to do the tootsie roll,” he said with a chuckle.

I gave him an innocent smile. “Am I?”