Page 17 of #Moonstruck
I made sure to go to the opposite side of the bar from where my brothers were attempting to lure the big-brained redhead with their smooth-talking game. Or shiny objects. Whatever worked.
Rodrigo stood a couple of feet away, talking to a guy in a hat seated on a bar stool. I walked toward them and waited for a break in the conversation. I’d never seen Rodrigo look so serious before. Usually he joked around with my brothers and teased me.
When they finished, I called out, “Hey, Rodrigo, another DrPepper and root beer, please?” I passed the empty glasses to him and noticed what looked like a Korean newspaper folded in half on top of the bar.
“Sure thing, Maisy.”
“Thank you!”
The man with the hat spoke. “So you are capable of being nice.”
That voice. It seemed familiar. I noted his glasses and ball cap, and then he turned.
Ryan De Luna.
“What ... who ... what?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out my phone, then slid it along the bar. “As promised, your phone.”
I just blinked at him, then at my phone, then at him again. “Did Diego send you?”
Ryan frowned. “What does Diego have to do with this?”
A rushing sound filled my ears as I realized what had happened. “Wait. You’re the one who’s been texting and emailing me the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“I—I thought you were Diego.”
Some movement and female voices murmuring behind me drew Ryan’s attention. “Could we move this someplace else? I’m parked out back.” He grabbed the Korean newspaper, threw a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, and without even looking to see whether I followed, he left.
Part of me wanted to let him walk out of my life and pretend none of this had happened, but the rest of me demanded answers.
When I went behind the club, Ryan stood next to a silver Prius. He opened the passenger door for me, and I got in without saying a word. He made his way to the other side and sat next to me, causing the temperature to rise about ten thousand degrees. He took off the glasses and hat and threw them in the back seat.
I felt kind of rebellious doing this. On the list of Things Maisy Should Never Do, sitting in a parked car with a boy was pretty high up there. If my brothers saw us, they might possibly pull Ryan through the windshield.
“Why did you think I was Diego?” he asked. Ugh. Even his profile was handsome. I forced myself to look straight ahead so he couldn’t confuse me with his good looks.
“He had my phone.”
“You mean after you insulted me and stormed off?” He actually sounded amused. Had it been such a novel experience for him that he didn’t know he was supposed to be offended? Because I happened to be excellent at offending people.
I couldn’t help it. I had to look at him, if only for the chance to try and figure him out. He flashed me the biggest, most sincere, blinding smile. I wanted to melt.
“Diego threw your phone on the couch. I’ve had it ever since.”
The question explosions returned. Why did Diego toss my phone? He knew it belonged to me. It kind of seemed like he was hitting on me. Why would he throw it away like it didn’t matter? Not even try to get it back to me? And what had possessed Ryan to pick it up, especially given how I had talked to him? Had I really been chatting with him this whole time? This guy I was relating to, starting to like from our texts and emails ... was Ryan De Luna?
Angie’s head was going to pop like an overinflated balloon when I told her.
“Have dinner with me.”
It took me a second to make sense of his sentence. Was he ... asking me out on a date? “What?”
“Have dinner with me,” he repeated, slower this time.
“No, I heard you. I just couldn’t believe you were serious. Because I’m not even a little bit interested in signing up for the Ryan De Luna Conquest and Bedpost Notch Tour.”
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