Through My Window (Hidalgos #1)(68)

“No. I’m disappointed.” The coldness in my own voice surprises us both.

“I . . .” He scratches the back of his head, messing up his black hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

He frowns. “Okay? Raquel, talk to me, I know you have a million things to say.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Not really.”

“You’re lying, come on, insult me, shout at me, but don’t be silent. Your silence is . . . agonizing.”

“What do you want me to say?”

He turns his back to me, holding his head as if he doesn’t know what to say. When he turns to me again, his voice is soft. “I’m really sorry.”

A sad smile forms on my mouth. “That’s not enough.”

“I know. I know it isn’t. Just . . . give me another chance.”

My sadness grows. “That’s what this has become, an endless cycle of opportunities. You hurt me, you apologize, and I come back to you like it’s nothing.”

“Raquel . . .”

“Maybe it’s my fault for having high expectations when it comes to you.”

A grimace of pain crosses his face. I turn around and start to walk away. I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going, but I need to get away from him.

“Raquel,” he calls me back. “Wait.” He grabs my arm, turning me toward him once more. “This is all new to me, and that’s not an excuse. I’ve never . . . tried anything serious with anyone before. I don’t know what to do. I know it seems obvious to a lot of people, but it’s not to me.”

I wiggle out of his grip. “It’s common sense, Ares. You have the highest IQ in the county, but you can’t figure out that it would be a bad idea to take me to a place where there are two girls you’ve fucked?”

“Two girls I’ve fucked?” He looks confused. “Oh, Natalie . . .”

He really didn’t remember?

“How do you know . . . ? Ah, shit, I forgot about that. It was a one-night thing, nothing important.”

“Of course.”

“What else did she tell you?”

I lift my chin. “She also told me that you used to make fun of me with your friends . . . about my crush on you.”

He doesn’t seem surprised.

“That was long before I talked to you. We hadn’t even met.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Why wouldn’t you believe me? I’ve never lied to you.”

“Of course, I forgot that honesty is one of your qualities.”

His blue eyes are full of sincerity. “I know that was sarcasm, but I’m really not lying to you. Natalie never meant anything to me.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “And what am I to you?”

He looks down. “You know what you are to me.”

“After tonight I have no idea.”

He looks up, his eyes are shining with a feeling that makes my heart race. “You’re . . . my witch. The girl who cast a spell on me. Who makes me want to be different, to try new things that are scary but worth it, because of you.”

The tickling in my stomach is unbearable. “Nice words, but they’re not enough. I need facts. I need you to show me that you really want to be with me.”

“I’m learning. What else do you want me to do?” He looks so vulnerable right now.

“That’s on you. You’re used to getting everything the easy way, but not this time. If you want to be with me, you’ll have to fight for it and earn it. We’ll start as friends.”

“As friends? Friends don’t feel the way you and I feel. They don’t desire each other the way we do.”

“I know, but you need to earn things after all the times you’ve ruined everything.”

He runs his hand over his face. “Are you telling me I won’t be able to kiss you or touch you?” I just nod. “Are you leaving me in the friend zone?”

“No, not really. Well, yes, but with the possibility of getting out if you learn.”

An ironic smile fills his lips. “No one has ever left me in the friend zone.”

“There’s always a first time.”

He gets closer to me. “What if I don’t agree to be your friend?”

“Well,” it takes all my strength to continue, “then, unfortunately, you are out of my life.”

“Wow, I really hurt you this time.”

A car passes by on the street next to us, the streetlights cast shadows on the side of his face. It’s getting colder. “Yes, or no?” I press.

“You know very well that I’ll take anything you offer.” He runs his hand through his hair. “All right, we’ll do it your way, but on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“During this period of ‘friendship,’” he makes quotation marks with his fingers, “you can’t date other guys; you’re still my girl.”

A couple walks past us, laughing, and continue down the street. I wait and then whisper: “Why are you always so possessive?”

“I just want to make it clear that, although we’re starting over as friends, that doesn’t mean you’re going to be able to date other guys. Got it?”