Remembering her comment from way back about talking too much and having no secrets when she drank, Nine poured her a generous amount. All he had to do was be cool and wait for the wine to kick in, and he’d have the unspoken upper hand again.
“Curious,” she said as he handed her the glass of wine. Nine looked her straight in the eyes, ready for whatever it was she might hit him with. “Earlier you made a comment about being stuck in here with a hot girl.” The way she was looking at him, brow arching even, felt like she’d just become as determined as he was of keeping the upper hand here—if that’s even what they were doing. “But prior to that, you were going to say beautiful, only you changed your mind. Why is that?”
Gulping, Nine took a deep breath then a swig of his wine. She’d been right. The wine was the perfect balance of sweet and dry. Only at the moment he couldn’t even enjoy it. He was too caught up in the way she was searching his eyes and waiting for a response.
Chapter 6
Drew
It was a valid question. This was in no way flirting or fishing for compliments. Drew really was just curious. It seemed odd that he’d start to say it then take it back only to replace it with a different compliment.
Nine did the same thing she’d seen him do more than once today. His initial reaction to her question seemed to catch him off guard. But just like all the other times she thought maybe she’d hit a nerve or even caught him blatantly checking her out, he recovered fast enough and was even grinning now.
“My moms told me way back that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Being beautiful is not the same as being hot. Sure you can be both, but you can also be the plainest-looking person on the planet and yet be the most beautiful person on earth—to the right person, that is.” He touched his chest with a grin. “Beauty comes from in here. But you have to get to know someone a lot better before you can know if they truly are just hot or beautiful in every way.”
“So hot is less than beautiful?” Drew asked, wondering if maybe she should feel even a tiny bit slighted.
“Well, yeah. In this day and age, with all the drive-thru plastic surgery clinics and photoshopping, there’s a shit ton of fake hot people out there. The right clothes, hair, and makeup, and few shots of Botox here and there.” He snapped his finger in front of him. “All those things can make the most ordinary person look hot. But there’s so much more to being beautiful.” He took another sip of his wine before taking a seat in the sitting area and then going on. “Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t take it back because I’m saying you’re not beautiful. All I’m saying is I don’t know you well enough yet to make such a declaration.”
Drew took a seat across from him, taking in what he’d just said as casually as she could in spite of her thudding heart. She glanced away, looking at her watch in the process.
“How long we been here?” he asked.
“Not sure how long we’ve been here,” Drew said with a frown. “I’d say at least a half hour, but we’ve been away from the rest of the party for over an hour.”
Drew sipped her wine, hoping it’d help ease her nerves a little. Not that being stuck in the cellar was really all that unnerving. Someone was bound to notice them missing eventually and come looking for them. The latter was actually what had her more nervous. All she could hope was it’d be one of the help coming down for more wine or just one or two people that found them so it wouldn’t be such a big deal. She knew she was doing nothing wrong by hanging out with him, and she’d certainly not planned on getting stuck in there with him. But too many hearing about it might get tongues wagging, and that could lead to unnecessarily having to explain this to Brad.
Brad hadn’t had an issue with her having sat in the car with Nine the night she had. She’d been completely honest about having to text him a few times when they were dealing with Ali disappearing, and he’d been as understanding about it as he should have been. But since then, Nine’s name had come up in conversation a couple of times, when they’d been around Ali and Beast. In each instance, while it was in the most casual way, Brad had asked her if she still talked to the guy.
Technically, she knew she’d done nothing wrong by agreeing to do the treasure hunt with Nine. But what she felt every time he indulged her with one of those smiles and what she was beginning to feel now that she was getting to see a new side of him was starting to feel not-so-innocently curious.
Of course, Nine didn’t seem worried about how long they’d been away from the party in the least. “Maybe they’ll send someone to find us.” He downed an even bigger swig of his wine. “This shit is good.”
Drew smiled, nodding as she sipped her glass again. “Yeah, well, enjoy it because, if I’m not mistaken, I think that’s at least a seventy-five-dollar bottle. Just take it slow.”
As expected, his expression soured, and Drew had to laugh now. After being around him for just this long, she was beginning to pick up on the kinds of things that would have him scrunching up his nose, like he’d just smelled something pungent. She’d already been expecting this reaction from him. “You’re shitting me? Why so much?”
“That’s not even near top shelf,” she explained. “Some bottles are priced upwards of thousands. I’m telling you wine is a big business.”
“Shit.” Nine sniffed his glass of wine. “This is good, but not no seventy-five bucks worth. I might pay that for a few cases, but even then, I’d have to love the stuff, and I only have wine occasionally.” He held his glass up. “Or when there’s no other choice. But I’m more of a beer man if I’m not drinking whiskey.”
He filled his glass again and, before Drew could protest, filled hers as well. “If this is a seventy-five-buck bottle, then we have to at least finish it.”
With no other recourse, since he’d already filled her glass, Drew lifted it at Nine. “To your new business, may its success only continue to get better.”
“Here, here.” He clinked her glass with his then took another sip.
Drew had only had one glass, and already she was feeling the familiar warm fuzzies in her belly and head.
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring Chelsea.” Nine sat back in his chair, peering at her. “I mean this isn’t such a grown-up party. She probably would’ve enjoyed all the games.”
Drew wondered if his comments and questions would ever stop surprising her. First, he remembered Brad’s name and now Chelsea’s. It wasn’t unheard of, she supposed. He just didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who’d bother remembering the names of even the women he slept with. Much less details about a girl he’d met and hung out with for a few hours, months ago. “Oh, if it’d been my weekend with her, I would’ve.” Drew smiled. “Even when it isn’t my weekend, if something is going on that I want her to be there for, Phoenix is more than accommodating. But they had plans from a while back to see Wicked today.”
“Wicked? Is that a movie?”
Shaking her head, she refrained from acting appalled as she might if he were a girl. Not everyone was into plays, and she could hardly expect a guy like Nine to know about this. “It’s a play about the witches from the Wizard of Oz. It’s really good. Phoenix took me to see it once, years ago. If it hadn’t been for this shower, I might’ve agreed to go with them tonight.”
Just like her comment about the price of the bottle of wine, she’d already known he’d have a reaction to this too. He lifted both hands in the air, doing the best impression of a time-out sign, given that one hand was still holding his wine.
“You mean to tell me, if it weren’t for this shower, you’d be out watching a play with your ex and kid like a happy little family and Brad would be okay with this?”
“Absolutely.” She took another sip of her wine, this time covering her mouth when she nearly spit it out after seeing that expression on his face again. “Oh my God.” She held her hand over her lips as Nine handed her a paper towel. “Do you have to look so disgusted?”
“Hell, yeah, I do!”
Even through the
disgust, a glimmer of a playful smirk slipped as he went on, a bit animated. “I mean, okay, like that night your daughter was sick, I guess I get him being okay if you’d stopped by your ex’s at that ungodly hour of the night. But going on a date—”
“Who said anything about a date?” Drew giggled even more, well aware she was getting a little too giggly. “I do things with them all the time. Brad’s known this from day one. Chelsea likes when both her parents are there for some of the more fun things like theme parks and even seeing a movie she knows we both want to see with her. But it’s harmless.”
“Harmless my ass.” He looked her over again then shook his head. “But I won’t argue. All I know is any girl of mine won’t be dating her ex while we’re together.”
“It’s not dating,” she insisted even as he continued to shake his head adamantly.
“Bullshit.” He leaned over to pour himself more wine, and before she could even think to block her glass, he was already pouring more in it as well. “Say you and I go watch a play and then what? Probably go eat after and hang out for a bit?”
Drew was still staring at her newly filled glass of wine but nodded. “Probably.”
“Then I don’t care what you call it. I’d call that a date. But I know, I know . . .” He shook his head, rolling his eyes as he sipped his wine again. “You and I are way too different, so moving on.”
“No, no.” Drew shook her head as she carefully picked up her glass of wine. “You said stuff like this last time, and quite frankly, I resent such racist remarks and implications.”
“Racist?” Drew refrained from giggling at his over-the-top expression but nodded with conviction. “What are you talking about? I’m practically the least racist person on the planet.”
Drew’s mouth fell open. “I beg to differ.”
“Well, you can beg all you want. I’m telling you I ain’t no racist.”
“Um, when someone says someone else is the way they are because of their race, that’s racist.”
“It’s not if it’s a fact.”
Now Drew had to laugh. “Really? So it’s a fact that only white folk are okay with their partners keeping a relationship with their exes?”
“Truer words have never been spoken.” His self-satisfied grin should’ve annoyed her. Instead, it made her smile. “But those are your words, not mine. All I’m saying is”—he held up a hand before she could protest—“if I had my phone, I’d show you because I actually looked this shit up. Statistics show ninety percent of swingers are affluent white Americans in their—”
“Swingers?” As mad as this should also make her, it only made her laugh more. “Oh my God! Are you calling me a swinger because I stay in touch with Chelsea’s—”
“No, no, no.” Nine laughed now too. “All I’m saying is white folk are just different when it comes to matters of the heart. You’d never hear of a Latina woman even entertaining the idea of another, much less several, wives she’d be sharing her husband with, and yet every instance of a polygamist family I’ve ever heard of or read about in the States—white.”
“I’m sure there—”
“None. Any husband stupid enough to ask his Latina wife if she’d be okay with him bringing another woman into their family better be talking about his mama or be ready to be shanked at the nut sack. Okay, okay.” He lifted both hands in front of him, shaking his head. “Maybe not all Latinas, but I know the Mexican ones best. You don’t even play with that shit. Same as no guy in my world would ever deal with his girl going on dates and hanging out at her ex’s. Just not a thing we put up with. It’s all I’m saying, and these are hard facts I’m giving you.”
“Oh really?” Drew sipped her wine again, not even bothering to hide the roll of her eyes. “Hard facts from where? Facebook? Social media memes? Reality TV shows?”
Nine sat back in his chair, making himself more comfortable with a big grin. “Just saying. I’ve been around Latinas my whole life. I was raised by three women, and they were hard as nails.”
“Most women are,” Drew said proudly. “That’s not a Latina thing, and that’s a fact I can vouch for firsthand.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, looking amused. “You a tough girl, Dee Dee?” Her expression must’ve been as confused as his calling her that made her, because he smiled sweetly, explaining, as indifferent as ever. “Your first and middle names. Anyone else call you that?”
“J-just my dad.” She cleared her throat when she realized she sounded too blown away by something so trivial. “But not always.”
Why it took her breath away that not only had he remembered but had taken it upon himself to nickname her, she wasn’t sure, but she was determined not to be so obvious.
“I’m partial to nicknames.” He shrugged as if reading her mind, smiling a bit bigger, her reaction clearly amusing him. “Beast, O . . . Nine.” He shrugged this time, grinning a bit sweeter. “Maybe just Dee is better. So seriously, Dee, you a tough girl?”
The way he asked, it was obvious he so didn’t buy it. “Well, I can be.” Drew tried to shake off what hearing his nickname for her again did to her. Then she remembered something and had to laugh. “I took care of a bully today.”
“Did you?” He looked as surprised as she expected him to be, given where they were.
“Yes, I did,” she said with conviction. “That big ass aquarium in the hallway between the kitchen and the bathroom. There’s a very bad fish in there, bullying all the others. I’d seen him in there before, and I saw him again today, totally bullying the other fishies.” His expression was as strange as she expected it to be with this nonsense. “So, I took matters into my own hands and bullied him right back.”
“Wait, wait, whoa.” His playfulness waned, and he stared at her, strangely serious. “You did what?”
“I bullied him right back,” she said with as much conviction as she had when she was in that hallway, being a total lunatic. “I flicked the glass, startling him, then all the way around the aquarium as he tried to swim away.” She motioned with her hand, all aggressive, as she had with that stupid fish. “And I chased him around and tormented him the way he was doing to all the other fish. I’m a mother, Nine, and if any kid did that to mine, I’d be all over—”
His laughing out loud so heartedly had Drew stopping, but she went on, despite feeling stupid. “It’s the truth. When you have kids—
“No, no.” He shook his head. “This is some crazy shit. I did almost the same thing not too long ago. Bullies are bullies. I don’t care if they’re in an aquarium or in a school yard. I just can’t . . . You really did that?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling less stupid now and a strange giddiness in her belly. “You did too?”
He nodded, staring at for a moment without saying anything. Drew could only pray he didn’t notice the goose bumps all over her arms, especially when he smiled so sweetly—so unlike him again—as he stared at her as the silence went on. It had her clearing her throat and going on, speaking a little too fast. “The other poor fish looked like they’d been tormented for so long. I’m actually gonna talk to Ali about it after today. Lila and Sonny probably don’t know.”
“You should.” The way he said it so matter-of-factly made her feel even more justified in what she’d been certain would make him think her insane. “People get aquariums because they look nice but don’t bother researching what types of fish they can put together. They just pick them by the color and shit. My moms have an aquarium, and any time they add any new fish, they make sure to at least ask down at the pet store which fish are compatible with each other.”
Drew stared at him for a moment, warmed by this side of him, but she was curious about something else now. “Your moms?” she asked, tilting her head. “So you were raised by your mom and a sister or your grandmas? Is that it?”
“No.” He shook his head without flinch. “Well, my grandma was one of them, but the other two were just two women who fell in love, decided to get married, and have a baby. L
esbians.” He paused as if to assess her reaction, which was nothing more than a wide-eyed stare. “And they’re still in love,” he continued. “They’ve been together over thirty years now. Grandma’s still around, only she’s in a home now. But, yeah, I still have my two moms. Although one of them stopped talking to me for a while there, we’re good now.”
Drew wasn’t sure why she was so floored. She’d refrained from explaining about Phoenix earlier because, despite Nine’s obnoxious blanket statements, she was beginning to get to know another side of him she enjoyed. She’d been afraid he might make a close-minded comment and really ruin it, since she wouldn’t let anything mean he said about Phoenix slide.
His opinions on how different Latinos were from white folk weren’t too far off anyway. Sure, he was generalizing, but more than once, her own mother had made a few similar blanket remarks. The moment Drew finished high school, she informed her mother she was moving to live with her father in Los Angeles, and the first thing her mother had warned her about was all the Latin lovers out here that would surely break her heart.
Of course, Drew had tried to wave her mom off, calling her crazy and even scolding her for making such statements since Los Angeles was, after all, a melting pot of different cultures. Then just a few months out here, Charlee fell head over heels over a Latino boxer. Now, the two were married and even Drew’s life revolved around the East Los Angeles gym swarming with what seemed like every hot Latino in the Los Angeles area.
“Chelsea has two dads,” Drew said simply.
Nine was about to take another sip of his wine but stopped and peered at her instead. “She calls Brad “Dad” already?”
Drew shook her head a bit nervously, bracing herself for all the conclusions she knew Nine would be coming up with once she explained this.
“Phoenix.” She took a much-needed sip of her wine then cleared her throat. “He’s in love and in a relationship with another man.”