Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(3)


“Do you need something?” he repeats with an air of annoyance.

That gives me the courage to speak. “Actually, yes. I wanted to talk to you.”

He makes a gesture for me to continue.

I frown. “Are you using my Wi-Fi?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer.

“Without my permission?”

“Yes.”

God, his audacity is infuriating. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know.” He shrugs, showing me how little he cares.

“How do you have my password?”

“I have good computer skills.”

“You mean you obtained it in some fraudulent way.”

“I hacked into your computer.”

“And you can say that so calmly?”

“Honesty is one of my best qualities.”

“You’re an . . .” He waits for my insult, but his sharp gaze affects my mind, and I can’t think of anything creative, so I go for the traditional: “You’re an idiot.”

His lips curve upward in a small smile. “What an insult! I thought you’d be more creative after discovering your password.”

My cheeks heat up, and I can only imagine how red I must be. He knows my password. My frustrating childhood crush knows my ridiculous Wi-Fi password. I’m doomed.

“No one was supposed to know about it.” I lower my head. Ares closes his laptop and focuses on me, amused.

“I know a lot of things about you that I shouldn’t know, Raquel.” Hearing him say my name sends butterflies to my stomach. I try to stay cool.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like those websites you visit when everyone else is asleep.”

My mouth opens in surprise, but I quickly close it. Oh my God, he’s seen my browsing history? I’m so embarrassed. I’ve visited several porn sites out of curiosity. Just curiosity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” Ares smiles.

I don’t like where this conversation is going. “Anyway, that’s not the point, stop using my Wi-Fi and stop making noise.”

Ares stands up from the small chair. “Or what?”

“Or . . . I’ll tell on you.”

Ares bursts out laughing. His laugh is hoarse and sexy. “Are you going to tell your mom?” he asks in a mocking tone.

“Yes, or yours.” I feel safe standing at my window, but I don’t think I’d be so brave if we were facing each other in the yard.

He leans back in his chair. “I’ll keep using your Wi-Fi, and you won’t do anything about it.”

“Really?”

The challenge in his eyes is overwhelming. I know mine must be the same.

“There’s nothing you can do. If you tell my mother, I’ll deny it, and she’ll believe me. If you tell yours, I’ll show her the pages you visit when no one is watching you,” he says.

“Are you blackmailing me?”

He strokes his jaw as if he’s considering my question. “I wouldn’t call it blackmail, but rather coming to an agreement. I get what I want, and you get my silence in return.”

“Your silence about information you got by hacking me. That’s not fair.”

Ares shrugs his shoulders. “Haven’t you heard that life isn’t fair?”

I grit my teeth. Jerk.

“If you have nothing more to say, I was doing something important.” He sits up and opens his laptop.

I stare at him like a fool, not knowing if it’s because he’s that much of a jerk or because the feelings I had for him as a child haven’t completely gone away. Either way, I have to get back inside; the cold breeze isn’t pleasant. I close the window and defeatedly crawl back between my warm sheets.

My iPhone vibrates on the bedside table. Who could be texting me at this hour? I open the message and gasp in surprise.

Unknown Number: Good night, Witch.

Sincerely yours,

Ares.

I groan in frustration. Who is he calling a witch? And how the hell does he have my number? Apparently, things with Ares are nowhere near over, but he’s sorely mistaken if he thinks I’ll sit by and do nothing.

You messed with the wrong neighbor!





THREE


   The Soccer Practice




“You what?” Daniela, my childhood best friend, almost spits her soda in my face.

We’re hanging out in the most popular café in town, hiding away from the summer heat. God bless the AC. We love it here. The calm music and dimly lit surroundings create a soft, comfortable energy, and it’s become our favorite spot to hang.

“Yes, I did exactly what I said,” I sigh, playing with the straw of my orange juice.

Daniela grins broadly as if she’s won the lottery. Her black hair falls to the sides of her face, framing it perfectly. She has that kind of hair where even if you don’t comb it, it still looks good. I’m so envious! But it’s the good kind of envy, of course.

Daniela has been by my side for as long as I can remember. Our friendship started in kindergarten when she stuck a pencil in my ear. Yes, it was an unconventional way to start a lifelong friendship, but that’s us: unconventional and crazy. Somehow, we adjusted to each other in a perfect, synchronized way. If that’s not true friendship, then I don’t know what is.

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