The Viper (Untamed Hearts #1)(55)

Marcos rolled his eyes and then picked up the glass. He tried to choke it down without coughing, but f*ck if he didn’t hate this shit. “Co?o, it tastes like mierda. Why can’t you drink rum? Always the tequila. Why?”

“It does the job faster.”

“Do you ever do anything just to do it?” Marcos asked when Chuito refilled the glass for him. “Just because it tastes good? Or feels good? I mean, if you’re gonna get shitfaced, you should enjoy it.”

“This is not for enjoyment. If it was for enjoyment, I’d be doing something else. You know that.”

“What’s it for, then?”

“So you can cry over your chica and get it all out of your system before you go back to Miami and deal with Angel. You already got problems. You don’t need to add being soft to the list.”

Marcos downed it and cursed a second time. He slid the glass back to Chuito. “How do you know it’ll work?”

“I’ve tested it for you.” Chuito filled the glass to the top and then drank half of it. “Many times.”

“Why, you love her? Your neighbor?”

“No, only chicas fall in love.”

Marcos emptied the rest of the glass and dared him, “Call me chica again.”

“What? You gonna do something about it? I can still take you.” Chuito laughed. “Chica.”

Marcos lashed out, jumping across the table to swing at his cousin, but the seriously f*cked-up thing about it was, Chuito caught his wrist, his gaze hard all of a sudden. “You underestimate me. Just like you underestimate Angel.”

“Maldita sea la madre que te parió,” Marcos cursed as he yanked his wrist free and sat down. He looked at the half-empty bottle in disbelief. “How much of this mierda do you drink on a regular basis?”

“I stop when I have a fight coming up,” Chuito said, suddenly defensive. “Sometimes I go for months without drinking it.”

“And the other times?”

“It makes it easier. Keeps me from seeing Juan when I close my eyes. And your mother. I didn’t even try to save her, Marc.”

“She was already dead,” Marcos reminded him. “You couldn’t—”

“I miss her. Sometimes I think I loved her more than my own mother.”

“Shut up.”

“No, my mother, she’s wild. You know that. She does what feels good. Not what feels responsible. Always lives in the moment. Your mother at least tried to keep us in line.”

“It’s a bit rich to be talking about my Tía Sofia not being responsible when you’re downing a bottle of Patrón.”

Chuito sighed, looking so very tired all of a sudden. “She wouldn’t go to Puerto Rico.”

“?Me cago en ná!” Marcos shouted at him. “You were supposed to make her!”

“Shh.” Chuito held a finger to his lips and then pointed in the direction of his neighbor. “She’s sleeping.”

Marcos lowered his voice. “Why didn’t you make her go?”

“Because, like you, she’s stubborn and doesn’t want help,” Chuito growled at him. “I can’t make her do anything. Dealing with both of you is like trying to harness two hurricanes.”

“It’s the eyes,” Marcos admitted as he took another drink. He couldn’t down this stuff like Chuito, but enough of it was in his system to let him pretend it was rum. “They make us sexy.”

“They make you crazy. She’s got some chico she thinks she’s in love with. She’ll be done with him in a week.”

“Why are you always downing on your mother? The eyes make the chicos want her just like they make the chicas want me. Maybe if you had them, you’d understand.”

“They get you in trouble. Do you know him?”

“Fernán, yeah? He’s okay. For a Cuban.”

“Co?o.” Chuito dropped his head to his folded arms on the table. “A Cuban. That’s worse than your gringa.”

“Do you really have the cojones to give us shit about that? You have your own gringa problems.”

“I don’t have a gringa. Alaine’s got a boyfriend,” Chuito said into his arms. “Some gringo named Edward. She’ll probably marry him.”

“Does Edward know she’s slipping into your room every night?”

“It’s not every night.” His voice was suddenly anguished. “God, I hate that pendejo. I know he doesn’t appreciate her.”

Marcos took another sip of his drink as he eyed his cousin. “Who’s crying now, chica?”

Chuito just lifted his hand and flipped him off rather than respond.

“Go down on her. She’ll forget about Edward.” Marcos emptied the glass because he clearly needed to catch up. “Have you fooled around with her?”

“No.”

“I’m starting to think you need some tips in this department.” Marcos mused and then poured himself another drink. “Next time she comes in your room, no more talking. You don’t ask, you just do it. Spread her legs and put your face in her *. She’ll like it. They all like it.”

Chuito lifted his head and looked at him. “How did you get that teacher to like you so much? You’re the last guy she should want.”