Page 51 of Raspados & Regret

Then part of his jaw while his hand covers half the camera while he mutters, “Shit.”

I bite back a laugh. “You video called me and don’t know how to hold the phone?”

The camera shifts, and then there he is.

Fabián.

Fresh from the shower, hair damp, peach-fuzz head catching the warm light from wherever he is in his apartment. He’s wearing a white tank instead of a crop top, which should be less offensive but somehow isn’t. His silver hoops are still in, but his chain’s gone. His shoulders look unfair and his face even more so because he is not scowling all the way.

Only halfway.

Progress.

His eyes move over the screen, and then his expression freezes.

I remember, too late, that I am lying on my bed in bright orange boxer briefs and glasses.

His eyes flick down, then back up again, slowly.

I sit up so fast my knee hits the side of the bed. “You called me.”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

I fumble for some kind of intellectual words, but I land on, “So don’t look at me like I broke into your phone half naked.”

“You answered… like that?”

I grunt as I reach for a blanket to cover myself up with. “You called without warning.”

“Hey, you offered me soup.”

I blink. “That’s why you called?”

His jaw shifts. “Maybe.”

I stare at him, and he stares back.

This man is going to make me climb through the screen and shake him.

“Fabián,” I deadpan.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, his eyes only breaking from mine for half a second while he tries not to look down.

“You video called me because I offered albóndigas?”

Then he smirks. “I wanted to know if you meant it.”

The room goes quiet, and my joke loads and dies in my throat because he doesn’t say it like a joke. He says it low, almost awkwardly, like the question cost him something. Like he is not used to people offering to bring him food unless it comes with an obligation tied around its neck.

My chest does a strange little squeeze.

Absolutely not.

Tenderness—who the fuck invited this sneaky bitch?

“I meant it,” I say, softer than I intend.

His eyes lift to mine through the screen, and for a second, neither of us speaks. Then, because silence makes me itch, I add, “My mom always makes enough for the whole block. You can totally have some. Unless you’re scared of big balls.”