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I feel like I ate a lemon.

“It’s nothing. I lost my train of thought.”

I don’t know why I’m mad. I never had a chance. That’s why she ran back to him Christmas day and again today.

I go back to my blueprint. This is a good reminder. This is just a job. Treat it as so.

Don’t fantasize about her. Stop remembering the flirting. It comes easy to everyone. You just need to concentrate on making things work with Lyssa.

6

Oliver

The Baltimore sun rages through the windshield of my car. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature it’s the first week of April, not the dog days of August. I’m okay with that, though. My Caribbean soul wouldn’t have it any other way. These days remind me of being that little kid playing baseball with the neighbors in the yard, pretending I was Manny Ramirez at the plate.

“You’re not going to be late, right?” Ayla asks. Her voice is soft, but the tentativeness is there. Her lucky socks, made from my old ones when I played pro baseball, are in my backseat.

“You know what I’ll say to that, señorita?”

“Oliver Amador is a punctual man of his word.” She giggles at the end, sounding more like an eight-year-old than the thirteen-year-old who now wears lip gloss and takes forever to get ready in the mornings.

“That’s right. Now, go warm up that arm, Ace. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up and turn right onto Divello Road to enter the newly built community, an oasis in the middle of downtown. The single-family brick homes are beautiful with their orange brick exterior, white frame steeple, and black shutters, bringing a stark contrast to the surrounding rowhome areas. These make excellent rental properties. I’m happy I followed my instinct and invested early on.

I pull into the only available space and park. I unlock my phone, but I don’t get to go into the messages app. The flash of the red flowing dress catches my eyes, and I get caught in the curves, the jiggle of full breasts, the come-hither smile that activates the sucio in me.

The sucio is my alter ego, the entity that possesses me when I’m alone with the woman I’m seeing or want to be with. He’s different than the good dad that’s there for his daughter or the encouraging coach of a girls’ baseball team.

Lyssa walks up to the driver’s side and leans in, her lips grazing the side of my mouth. “Thank you for bringing my phone back.”

“No problem,” I say. My eyes glide over her brown skin, traveling from her wide-set eyes to her perfectly shaped mouth, and finally lingering on her chest. “I’m glad we got to have lunch together and clear the air.”

She sighs and leans in, running her hand over my cheek. “I can’t stay mad at you. You know, Robbie is at his dad’s tonight. Maybe you can come by later, and we can really make up. Do it like last time where we got it on against the door ‘cause we couldn’t wait.”

I remember that vividly, like her hands are still clawing at my back. I run my fingers over the back of her hand. “I can’t tonight. Ay has a game, and I’m taking her to dinner after.”

“Oh,” she says, like I didn’t tell her this earlier.

I take her face in my hand and press an open-mouthed kiss against her lips, searching her mouth with my tongue until she sighs. “I’ll come back tomorrow. We’ll make last time look like a quickie. Now I really have to go.”

“Okay.” Her eyes narrow, and she points to the backseat. “What’s that?”

I follow the direction of her gaze to the garment bag hanging from the hook of the backseat. “My suit for Chase’s wedding.”

“Ayla’s going to be a bridesmaid, right?” Her tone is light, and her lips curve lightly.

I nod, which reminds me that I need to ask Adri if she can take her to the last fitting in two weeks along with her and Bron.

“Who’re you going with?” Lyssa asks, sounding a little disinterested, but hope echoes in the way she says it.

“By myself.”

“Are you sure?” Her gaze narrows, bouncing back and forth between me and the garment bag.

Mierda mano.

I take her fingers in mine. “Yes, I’m sure, Lyssa. You’re the only person I’m seeing.”

“Yet, you never asked me to come with you. You don’t have to go alone.”