Page 68 of The Bronze Garza

Fake smile at the ready, I glance up. And just like that, I’m doing it.

Comparing myself.

She’s gorgeous, no doubt about it. And Latina, I’ve learned. Tits, hips, and ass. All of which I also have. Except where I’m tall and gawkish, she’s short and petite. All adequately proportioned, better packaged.

“I thought I’d bring you this,” she says of the small bowl in her hand.

She sets it down on the table and I see it’s a fruit cocktail, covered over with a cling-wrap.

“Oh, thank you. I’m sure you’re very busy and all, so it’s nice of you to take the time...” I don’t even know what I’m saying. Her presence is making me nervous.

“Eh, it’s nothing,” she says, lowering down in the other chair. “But I also came because I got the feeling you’ve been deliberately avoiding me.” She crosses her legs and looks at me straight. “Have you?”

I think about lying, to continue faking it. But that’s never been who I am. “Yes.”

She seems surprised by my honesty. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to remain neutral toward you,” I reply. “I don’t want to hate you, or be jealous of you, or compare myself to you.”

She’s nonplussed. “You’ve completely lost me. Why would you be...” She trails off and her hazel eyes narrows hard on me. “Do you know my fiancé or something?”

“Who’s your fiancé?” Then I remember the kiss and ass grabbing in the parking lot. “The serious twin?”

She bursts out laughing. “By that description alone, you’ve dispelled my suspicions,” she says. “Yes, my fiancé is the ‘serious twin.’”

“Oh, well no. I only met him once and he was terribly ill-mannered.”

“Yep, that’s him all right.” Her confused expression returns. “If this is not about Trent, then...” She trails off again and her eyes widen a fraction. “Oh...oh.”

“He loved you,” I blurt.

“Sure, and that’s why he cheated on me.”

“He cheated on you?”

With a disappointed shake of her head, she sighs as if I’ve let her down somehow. “Girl, take my advice andrunin the opposite direction. That one is scum.”

“I—”

“Speak of the devil,” she bites bitterly, and I glance up to see Torin striding out of the condo toward us. “Look, I despise this man with the fire of ten thousand suns, so I’ll catch up with you some other time.”

She’s up and moving before I can respond. “Stay off my property, Demon Garza!” she barks at him as they pass each other.

He throws her an apathetic glance, but doesn’t break his stride, his attention fixed on me. And dammit, he’s still as hot as he was two mornings ago. Olive-green tee, dark denims, sunglasses, a small paperbag in hand. Couldn’t a cat have attacked him or something? Mar that perfect face of his, even if only temporarily.

“Hey,” he says when he gets up to me.

“To what do I owe this fine pleasure?” I ask through a sheen of sarcasm.

He offers the paper bag. “Jo wanted me to give you this. Said you didn’t finish reading it.”

Frowning, I take the bag from him and peek inside. It’s a garbage book that I didn’t finish readingon purpose. Jo knows that, because we both agreed it was garbage. I specifically remember telling her that there’s nothing I hate more than the use of mental illness as a plot device, so Jo sending me a book I dumped is baffling.

“You could have sent this with one of your subjects, you know,” I say, tossing the book onto the table only because there aren’t any bins nearby. “You didn’t need to disrupt your precious vacation with a book delivery.”

He removes his sunglasses and hooks it onto the front of his tee. “Was making a stop nearby so it’s no skin off my nose.” He eyes the fruit cocktail on the table. “You remembering to take your supplemental vitamins?”

“I’m not a child, Torin. You don’t need to supervise me.”