And this was precisely why she didn’t trust people. They kept your secrets locked and loaded, ready to use against you. She’d ignored her instincts because she’d needed to feel something, anything besides rage. She should have known better than to think that salvation came in gorgeous Nathan Vasquez–shaped packages.
Being married to Matt had always been lonely. Even when he’d tried to be thoughtful and empathetic, there were parts of her that he could never understand. But Nathan had. Not everything, but more than anyone else. He knew what it was like to walk into a room of white faces wearing dark skin made of stone so no one could hurt you. He knew what it was like to love your art like it was a thing that made you, instead of the reverse. She didn’t have to explain it. He knew, and that had meant so much that she’d ignored everything else.
Now he was just like Matt. Rich and privileged. That easy confidence so rare for a guy his age was just a perk of having money.
Rachel moved in closer until they were inches apart. Even in heels she had to tilt her head back to glare at him. “Are you seriously comparing your situation to mine? If anyone finds out about us, I am done. I will be run out of town with pitchforks, and your mother will chair the witch hunt’s planning committee. I could lose everything—” She stopped when he cut his eyes in disbelief. Like he knew the first thing about her life.
“You knew who I was,” she said. “That Sofia and I are… friends. Is that why you slept with me?” She hated the quivering strand of hurt inside the question. “To get back at her for something?”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
She tried to wave him away.
“Rachel.” He grabbed her wrist. “I would never do that to you.”
He was close. Her focus narrowed to his chest, his shoulders, the musk of his aftershave. She searched for a safer place to rest her eyes, but her gaze landed on his mouth. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to be back there, sitting on his couch tracing his tattoos while he handed her pieces of himself. She didn’t want to be here. But this was the cost of letting someone in. The minute she let her guard down, they drew a map to the quickest way to hurt her. “I don’t even know who you are.”
Nathan’s eyes flashed and he put more distance between them. “Well, I don’t know you either. All that stuff you said about your husband? How you don’t love him anymore? If that’s true, then what are you doing here? With him?”
“It’s none of your business. You don’t get to ask about my marriage.”
“What marriage? He doesn’t want you. And you spent Saturday night riding my dick for hours, so you sure as hell don’t want him. How can you act like nothing happened?”
“Because nothing happened!” He blinked, his hard expression cracking. She knew it hurt, but she kept going. She had to. What they’d been doing was dangerous. “We fucked. It was a mistake. So let’s get through this, keep it professional, and move on with our lives. Can you do that?”
Nathan’s eyes glinted against the light, damp and hazy with some emotion she wasn’t brave enough to identify. Then he blinked and it was gone. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he said, and the gulf between them became an ocean.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nathan had underestimated the size of Lyric’s network. News about FireBird84’s work being featured at the gala leaked before the Vasquez Foundation could issue a press release. Sofia sent someone over to help him with public relations, and the woman hijacked his schedule so completely, a week went by before Nathan realized that he’d been neglecting his brother.
They didn’t work out on Thursdays, so Nathan stopped by The Stand, picked up Joe’s favorite lunch, and drove to his office. He was halfway through his trek across the parking lot when he spotted a tiny figure running toward him.
“Mom! It’s Uncle Nathan!”
Joe’s son had become a gangly six-year-old. Nathan crouched so Angel could launch himself into his arms.
“We saw Dad! And Grandpa! I mean, Abuelo. ?Me compró un Millennium Falcon!” Angel started speaking rapidly, and Nathan struggled to follow the confusing story about the Star Wars LEGO set Beto had bought for him.
“?Habla despacio!” Nathan finally said, and lifted palms of surrender. “I can’t keep up.”
Nathan greeted Zara, who was smiling a few feet away. “Joe hired another new tutor,” she said. “This one’s big on immersive education and wants Angel to only speak Spanish, even to family. Your dad was annoyed.”
“Are you surprised?” Beto wasn’t raised in a bilingual household like Sofia. He was like Nathan, speaking Spanish only to explain that he wasn’t fluent. Joe spoke more than all of them after taking classes as part of his business degree. Once he had Angel, he became determined to raise a son that knew his heritage.
“Maybe you can tutor me, huh?” Nathan said. Angel flushed and pretended to punch Nathan in the stomach. Nathan groaned and doubled over. “You taking boxing too?”
Angel laughed. “No! I’m too little!”
Zara asked Angel to wait in the car with his nanny. Nathan hugged him goodbye, long and tight, reveling in his nephew’s scrawny arms around his neck. He needed to steal hugs more often, even if it meant hopping on a cross-country flight.
Zara didn’t speak until Angel was in the car. “I’m so sorry about Beto. I couldn’t believe it when Joe told me.”
“Yeah, I know.” She looked like she was expecting tears at any moment. But when Nathan thought about the tumor killing his father, it felt like a story someone had told him about a weaker man he’d never met. He couldn’t believe something that small could defeat a giant. “Joe finally asked you to come home?”
She hesitated. “He asked me to send Angel with Nadia. I decided to come too.”
“Oh. Okay.” Nathan knew to tread carefully. Living with his parents had taught him that there were some things about a marriage you’d rather not know.
“We’re separated,” she said, and folded her arms around her waist. “It’s been eight months now, but he won’t talk about filing papers.”
“Divorce papers?” Saying it out loud made his chest hurt. Family meant everything to Joe. A divorce would devastate him. “Is it that bad?”
Zara sighed. “I met someone. It happened during filming. Joe and I spent so much time apart—”
“I don’t think I need to hear this,” he interrupted. Nathan loved her, but if he had to pick a side, Joe would win every time. “It’s between you and my brother.”
“He won’t talk to me.” Her eyes watered and she pressed a hand to her mouth. “I still love him. I just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to help him. He seemed fine with Angel earlier, but he always seems fine.”
Joe was usually so open about his therapy and medication that he sounded like a self-care influencer on social media. Now he avoided eye contact whenever Nathan asked how he was feeling. Joe had been looking out for him for years. It was time he returned the favor.