Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(25)

Hector moved to my side. Close to my side and he looked down at me.

“Hispanic Hottie?” he asked, brows raised and lips still struggling to hold back a grin.

Oh my God. I wanted to die. Go live with the doves and the angels and leave this world forever.

Instead, my eyes sliced to Ralphie and they narrowed. Ralphie ignored my narrowed eyes.

“I know!” Ralphie exclaimed. “We’ll have a drink and all watch Veronica Mars. I think in the next episode she gets roughed up in a pool hall. Anyone would need a drink while watching that.”

I didn’t want to have a drink while watching Veronica Mars with Hector “Oh my God” Chavez. I wanted Hector to disappear in a puff of smoke and then I wanted to give Ralphie what for.

Hector didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke, instead he said, “That’d be good.”

My heart sunk, Ralphie clapped in delight and grabbed Buddy who was still frowning and dragged him from the room.

“What should we do? Martinis? Margaritas? I know! Beer!” I heard Ralphie say as he and Buddy disappeared into the kitchen.

I stood frozen to the spot, staring in the direction of the kitchen and wondering what the heck to do.

Hector’s flannel shirt filled my eyesight and I began to panic.

I wasn’t me. I was kind of Sadie-in-the-making when I was in Buddy and Ralphie’s house. Therefore, I didn’t have my armor.

I wasn’t wearing head-to-toe designer. I was wearing faded jeans and one of Buddy’s hooded sweatshirts and it was huge on me. I didn’t have on my Manolos or Jimmy Choos, giving me four inch heels and a little height. I was barefoot, French pedicured toes on full display. My hair wasn’t arranged perfectly, it was pulled up in a messy knot at the crown of my head.

At least I still had on my makeup from working at the gallery all day, thank God.

“Sadie,” Hector called, breaking into my frenzied thoughts about my appearance and further what he’d think about my appearance.

My eyes travelled up his shirt, the column of his brown throat, past his strong chin and his full lips to his black eyes. My heart skipped when I saw what was in his dark eyes.

Oh darn.

“How you doin’?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine,” I answered immediately.

His eyes flared with annoyance and without hesitation he got in my space.

And then (no kidding), his hand came to my jaw and his thumb trailed across the cut on my cheek (it was fading, very, very slowly, but it was still there and would be there until I made an appointment with the plastic surgeon).

I held my breath while he watched his thumb trace the scar then his palm moved along my cheek, his fingers slid into the hair at the side of my head and his hand cupped me behind my ear.

His eyes came back to mine.

“Mamita, I asked, how are you doing?” Hector repeated, his voice was calm but he was enunciating his words clearly, indicating he cared about my response and further, I better not try to blow him off again because he wasn’t going to like it.

I hesitated then, do not ask me why, I whispered, “Better.”

It was then, close up, I saw his eyes get warm and my stomach pitched at the sight.

Right after that, still standing frozen, Hector close, totally in my space, hand still in my hair, I watched his head start to tilt down.

“I’ve got the best idea!” Ralphie shouted from the door. Then he said, “Oh no. Sorry.”

Hector’s eyes closed with what appeared to be frustration (I swear to God). He dropped his hand and stepped to my side again.

“Do you, um… want me to come back?” Ralphie asked.

“No!” I cried instantly, sharply and maybe a little loudly.

Ralphie looked at me, eyes narrowed. After a second though, they cleared and he smiled like he was really happy about something.

“Well, Buddy’s in the kitchen, grating cheese like a grating fool. We’ve decided to do nachos.” Ralphie’s gaze moved to Hector and he informed him, “It’s the food of your people.”

I closed my eyes.

Someone, please tell me that Ralphie did not just tell Hector that nachos were the food of his people.

While I was devising the lecture on cultural awareness I was going to deliver to Ralphie the minute Hector left, I heard Hector’s soft laughter.

My eyes opened again and I saw Ralphie forge into the room.

“I have to go get sour cream. You,” Ralphie pointed to me, “need to go smush up avocado for the guacamole. And you,” Ralphie’s pointed finger moved to Hector, “need to get yourself a beer. It’s stressful doing stakeouts. I should know, I’ve stalked my fair share of lying, cheating, no-good boyfriends. The bastards.”

Then, after sharing this morsel, Ralphie hurried out in search of sour cream.

We heard the door slam behind Ralphie and I stood there, unsure of what to do and wondering how rude it would seem if I ran upstairs, locked my bedroom door and barricaded myself in the closet.

“Sadie –” Hector started.

“Am I going to get help with this guac or what?” Buddy shouted from the kitchen.

I took a deep breath and looked up at Hector. “I need to go smush avocado,” I told him, feeling like an idiot.

At my words he smiled at me, slow, amused and glamorous and I didn’t feel like an idiot anymore.