Blocked (5 page)

“Yeah,” he said. “I have a couple more days before I go back to school.”

My
inteligente
brother was about to start his second year of medical school at Johns Hopkins. “So…” I prompted. “Mom?”

“She’s stressed. She said the photos of her at the Detroit rally made her look huge, and she won’t leave the house until she loses fifteen pounds.”

I frowned. My mother had been overweight her entire life, but it never was a big deal to me—she gave great hugs, made the best taquitos I’d ever eaten, and never seemed to get sick. I admired her strength. Her weight didn’t seem to bother
her
that much, either, until the Republican primaries hit this year. My dad’s closest opponent had a wife who was a stick, and Mom had felt intimidated by the national scrutiny. MSNBC had been merciless.

Alex continued, “I can handle her crazy diets, but when I caught her smoking—”

“No!” I cringed. “Not that again.” My mother had quit cigarettes approximately sixty-seven times in the past eighteen years.

“I know. It’s so nasty.”

“Alex? I wonder if we should just let her smoke until the election is over. It’s gotta be tough on her.”

“And let her set a bad example for Mateo?” he huffed. “No way. He could
die
if he started smoking, you know.”

I knew my younger brother Mateo picking up cigarettes certainly wouldn’t
help
his diabetes, but it’s not like it would kill him on the spot, right? Alex had a flair for the dramatic. And a flair for the overprotective, which started when Dad hadn’t been around much after he’d been elected governor of Texas more than three years ago. “How’re Matty’s sugars?”

“Okay, I guess. He won’t tell me the numbers.”

I grinned. Mateo had already complained to me about our brother hovering over him at every turn, with texts like:
Why can’t he play doctor with ANOTHER patient?
Alejandro’s one year of medical school had added to his already elevated sense of authority over us.

“Maybe you could give Matty some space?” I suggested. “He’s
sixteen
. He won’t act civilized for at least a couple of years.”

“Maybe. Wait a minute…are you implying that
you
behave in a civilized manner, Ms. Eighteen-Year-Old?”

“Girls mature faster than boys.” When I found myself sticking my tongue out at him—a useless gesture over the phone—I considered retracting that statement.

“Speaking of immature…” He paused, like we’d arrived at the crux of the conversation. “Have you run into Douchebag yet?”

My heart rate sped up. If Alejandro ever found out how I truly felt about Dane Monroe, he’d fly here immediately and lock me in a convent. He’d threatened about as much when the nerdiest boy in school had taken me to senior prom last year. And
that
boy had been a Republican.

“Yep, ran into him twice already—at a compliance meeting and at practice. Unfortunately we have to share the same gym while they renovate the arena.”

“But isn’t the guys’ season in the spring? Why’re they practicing already?”

“Welcome to Division One athletics. There
is
no off-season.”

“Sounds almost as bad as med school. Will you have time to study if you’re practicing all the time?”

I was starting to have the same worries.
Will I be able to get
anything
done if I’m too sore to walk?
I dreaded having every minute of my day scheduled for me, including forced study time for the freshmen once school started. “Well, we have mandated study tables every night, to ‘help’ us study.”

“Right.” He caught my sarcasm and chuckled. “So did Douchebag dare to say anything to you?”

I hesitated. Alejandro already hated Dane, simply because he was a liberal. To add fuel to the
fuego
by sharing his aggressive introduction hardly seemed wise. “He, um, he didn’t seem happy I came to school here.” Remembering those deep blue eyes made my breath hitch.

“Probably doesn’t want anyone nearby to catch him in his lies and manipulation. The whole administration’s corrupt. Can you believe Cannell refused to answer the special committee’s questions about Yemen?”

He droned on about the latest scandal involving the Secretary of State, and all I could think about was Dane’s sturdy body next to me on the gym floor, so close, emitting heat and strength. He’d stared down at me with a playful smirk as he clutched the towel in his hand—the towel he’d used to wipe the floor and keep me safe, despite what he’d said. Tingles had crept up my spine from his mere presence.

“Lucia!”

“Huh?” My brother’s voice snapped me back to the empty hotel room. No sweaty muscles in sight.
Bummer
.

“Are you listening? I asked if you could stay away from Dane. I don’t trust him or his family.”

Could I stay away from Dane Monroe? Probably not.
Would
I stay away from him? Definitely not. “I don’t trust him either,” I said, to placate my brother. But I definitely wanted to see him again. Soon.

There was a knock on the door. “I think Secret Service is here.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m glad they decided to protect you.”

“
I’m
not.” I tossed my legs over the side of the mattress and headed to the door. “Will you have to be under protection in Baltimore?”

“Last thing I heard was no, not all the time. Apparently I’m not as high profile as a Highbanks student-athlete.” His tone was teasing. “They’ll just catch up with me for public appearances, and Mateo has Mom’s detail, so we’re all good.”

I peeked out the peephole and saw my two constant companions there. “Gotta go, okay?
Te amo
.”

“Love you too, Lucy.”

As soon as I opened the door, Frank asked, “Did you get some rest?”

“A little.” I stepped aside to let them in. “Any luck finding an apartment for me?”

“We found the perfect place!” Allison gushed.

I sensed some tension between them, and Frank looked away. I frowned. “When can I see it?”

Allison glanced at her watch. “How about tonight, after you’re done with all your practices?”

“You sure that’s okay with the other party?” Frank asked her. “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.”

I looked back and forth between them. “
What
other party?” Frank went back to averting his gaze, which made me tense.
Why won’t Frank make eye contact?

Chapter 4

T
HAT
E
VENING
, A
FTER
L
UCIA
R
AMIREZ
dropped a bomb on my day, I finally had some time to chillax. I sank back onto the sofa, and the black leather made a satisfying crunch as it absorbed my freakishly tall body. Good thing my grandfather was loaded. His money had furnished this sweet house in style, turning it into my tricked-out bachelor pad. After I unleashed a monster, burrito-flavored burp, I patted my gut.

I scooped up the remote and flipped through my recorded programs on the DVR.
What?
My thumb locked in place over the remote as my chin retracted into my neck. Why the fuck was
that
on the list?

“Braaaad!” I hollered.

Silence.

“China?”

More silence.

Awesome
. The fuckers were all over my case when I wanted privacy, and now when I needed help, they’d entered stealth mode. Was the stupid TV broken? I blew out a heavy breath and clenched my teeth, but I was too tired to move my ass off the sofa to call the cable company. Instead, I scrolled down and clicked on my favorite show.

Once the familiar music played, I eased into a smile and propped my feet up on the ottoman. Damn, my feet were huge—I could barely see the screen over the top of my toes. And you know what they say about guys with big feet…Oh,
yeah
. I sure was proud of my pocket rocket.

My grin faded as my little sister Jessica’s words echoed in my mind. “
You’re such a nympho
,” she’d said when she found a porn magazine in my backpack a month ago.

“And
you’re
a prude
,” I’d replied. “
It’s normal for men my age to think about sex.”
I’d learned that fact in psych class. But when her mouth had contorted to convey her shock, I’d ripped the magazine from her grasp. Thinking about it now, maybe I didn’t mind her prudish nature. She was only sixteen, after all.

There was a teenage character on my favorite TV show, too, only the actress playing her looked about twenty-five. No way those tits were real, but did I care? She was
hawt
. Josh would give me shit for the rest of our volleyball career if he ever discovered I watched this inane crap, but I couldn’t stop. Not only was the actress smokin’, but I
had
to find out what happened with the teenage pregnancy storyline. Damn Jessica for getting me addicted!

I was so engrossed in Marlena and Roman’s argument that I barely noticed when Brad breezed into the room. “Dane, buddy, we gotta talk.”

Fast as a quick-set, I stopped my show so he couldn’t see it and glared at him. “Why the hell is Bill O’Reilly on my DVR?” I demanded.

He took a step back and paused. Then he gave an innocent shrug.

“It was
you!”
I gasped. “You programmed that show.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Dude, you suck at lying.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t me. That’s your DVR.”

“Okay.” My eyes narrowed. “You won’t mind if I delete it, then.”

When his attempt at nonchalance epically failed, I struggled not to laugh. I clicked on the button to bring up the list of recorded programs, but inadvertently hit play instead.

Shit!
I shut it down in an instant but I could tell the damage was done.

Brad grinned. “Relax, little girl. I already saw that soap opera on the recorded list.”

“Stay out of my DVR,” I growled.

He laughed, and I folded my arms across my chest. This faux pas did
not
earn me a good score on the cool meter. “Don’t tell China,” I said.

“Why do you care if China knows you watch
Days of Our Lives
?”

Because she’d mock the hell out of me.
“Because I don’t want her lusting over the same chicks on the show as I do.”

He rolled his eyes. “You got something against gay people?”

“What? My mother freaking
led
the crusade for gay marriage! You’re the one who should answer that question—not me.”

“And why’s that?” A huge neck muscle bulged over his collar, and I hoped he wouldn’t stroke out on me.

“You tell me, Semper Fi.”

Brad studied me for a moment and finally said, “China’s my partner now. Therefore, she’s cool. I don’t care about her personal life.” He cleared his throat. “
Your
personal life, however, is my concern. And I got some news about that.”

“News?” I got the niggling sense something bad was about to go down. Maybe it was Brad’s uncharacteristic fidgeting. But before he had the chance to lay it on me, a buzzing sound filled the room.
Somebody at the security gate
.

“The news has arrived.” Brad shuffled from one foot to the other, and I heard China’s voice from the hallway, likely speaking to the arriving guest over the intercom. She sounded eerily friendly.