Page 76 of The Right Garza

Me: I’m fine. How have you been? And Slim?

Ellie: Better! Slim’s the same. He’s taking 80% now, but at least I’m making money again.

Me: That’s good, hun. Take care of yourself.

Ellie: I saw you on Maggie’s IG. You two linkedup again?

Me:Yeah, we’re working on a project together.

Ellie:For your friend that helped us?

I’m typing out a reply to her when my phone starts to vibrate with an incoming video. The only people I take video calls from are Mama and my sister whenever she remembers I exist.

The number on the screen is unknown so I assume it’s either the latter, seeing as she moves around often, or Ellie. But when I swipe to accept the call, a face I don’t expect fills my screen.

A face I could have gone the rest of my life never seeing again.

I’m instantaneously pissed.

“Lexi.”

“How inthehell did you get my number?” Then I laugh without humor and add, “Right. Silly question.”

“Lexi—”

“So, yeah, you can flex your investigative muscles all you want and dig up my info, invading my private life, butIget to decide if I want to give you the time of day or not. And Idon’t. So please donotdial my number ever again, okay?Buh-bye.”

Without giving him a chance to get a word in, I end the call and toss my phone on the bed. The nerve of that dirtbag. Calling me. What did he think I was going to do, smile and ask how he’s doing?

Sure, it’s been years since our breakup, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s hold a grudge. And he knows that.

Trent strides into the room right then, carrying a tray with a mug of hot cocoa and slices of banana bread.

I frown as he sets the tray down on the bed-end bench. “Where did you find banana bread?”

“I brought it.” He straightens and looks me over. “What’s wrong? Who were you talking to just now?”

With an irritated wave of my hand, I pad to the bench and pick up a slice of banana bread, taking a big bite. “Your cheating scumbag brother.”

“Tor?”

“Yep,” I answer with a full mouth.

“I see.” The sudden iciness in his tone prompts me to glance up just in time to catch his jaw pop, then tighten.Oh, for shits sake. “What did he want?”

“Who knows? I didn’t give him a chance to tell me.” I lower to the bench and pick up the hot cocoa. “I told him to never call me again and hung up.”

Trent grunts and disappears into the bathroom. He’s upset, and I feel the urge to go and hug him and assure him that there’s nothing there for his brother anymore, but if I do that, then it’ll make this ‘thing’ we have going seem more serious than it is.

It’s the job of agirlfriendto give him assurance, and that is not what I am to him. Though a large part of me has been trying really hard to convince me that is what I want—him,to be his, exclusive, more than what we are now. I’ve resisted from entertaining such thoughts, so far.

I’m too much of a directionless mess right now. I’ve got a lot to figure out and a serious relationship would be nothing but a destructive distraction.

After next week, both this project and our fling will be over. I’ll either ask Mama for some shifts at her restaurant or hop on a plane and go try my luck somewhere else.

Trent comes out of the bathroom and lays across the bed, throwing his arm across his eyes.

As I sip hot cocoa and eat his banana bread, I feast on him as well. So artfully built.Chiseled thighs, deeply defined abs, bulging biceps. Masculinity defined and every sculpted line under taut brown skin. Slow and appreciatively, I drag my gaze over him as if I’m seeing him for the first time.