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“I’m not.” My voice held more bite than I’d meant it to. “I told you we didn’t get phone numbers or anything, and I have to focus on work.” I tossed my blanket over the sheets. “And on making enough so you can have your space back.”

Even in the dim lighting from her twinkle lights, which hung as a makeshift headboard, I could make out my cousin’s frown. “You know you can stay here as long as you’d like. And meeting people is a good thing, not a distraction. What are you planning on doing? Working all the time and never having fun? Or getting laid? A novio? Life’s about more than work, Ariella.”

I dropped onto my makeshift bed. The well-worn cotton sheets were like a warm hug, the checkered fabric cool against my skin. I lay there, cocooned in that familiar fabric, feeling a gnawing restlessness I hadn’t anticipated. Tonight shouldn’t have affected me this way. Yet there I was, wondering if Gracie had a point.

Fucking mescal.

After a while, my cousin’s even breathing told me it was safe to whisper out my insecurity. The one I kept buried deep inside.

“I don’t know how to do both. And I don’t want to get stuck like our moms.”

My lids fluttered shut, the buildup of emotions draining me and pulling me under. But right before drifting off, a cha-ching sounded from my phone, and my eyes flew open.

EIGHT

ARIELLA

SEEEE? IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD

At first, I was confused about who’d be sending me money, until I remembered Dalton had scanned my CashPay in the car ride over to the restaurant.

CashPay:

$15 from Dalton55

CashPay:

$1 from Dalton55

The first one was for the ride. This one is because I apparently have to send you money to message you, and I had a feeling you’d skewer my balls if I sent you more than a dollar. Thanks for the best date I’ve had in my life. Good night, darlin’.

Butterflies went wild low in my stomach as I read the message over and over. Damn it, why did he have to be so charming? I gnawed on my lip until the point of pain, fingers typing and deleting messages for a solid five minutes until I tucked my phone under my pillow.

As I drifted off into a restless sleep, images of a chiseled jaw peppered with stubble popped into my mind.

This was the only place where I could have Dalton—in my dreams.

NINE

DALTON

LISTEN, I KNOW BOYS ARE DUMB, AND VIOLENCE IS BAD, BUT GOD DO I LOVE IT WHEN THEY GET ALL AGGRESSIVE OVER THE GIRL...

There was something seriously wrong with me.

All weekend, I’d sent Ari messages via CashPay, hoping for some kind of response. The fact that she hadn’t sent back the six dollars was a good sign…right?

“You alright, Cap?” Jimenez asked as I scrubbed my palms over my face, trying to shake off the mental hoops I was putting myself through.

I’d considered asking his advice, since he was the team’s self-proclaimed expert on women. But I didn’t know if his advice was the kind I was looking for. Plus, what would he say when he found out I was messaging her through a payment app because I didn’t have her number? And worse, that she hadn’t even responded.

What was the line for moving into stalking territory?

“He’s probably tired from the action he got Friday night,” Roberts shouted from across the locker room. “Did you see her, Jimenez? Damn, she was fine.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Up-Chuck? Cap here didn’t get any pussy Friday night.” My best friend turned to me, lowering his voice. “Did you?” he asked, almost hopeful.

I yanked on the ties of my sneakers a little harder than necessary. “No, I didn’t sleep with anyone Friday.” Just another disappointing reminder that I hadn’t asked Ariella to come home with me. I’d replayed it a hundred times, all the things I could’ve said. But if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want her as a one-night stand.