Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Page 19

  “You are working so hard, being such a good activist.” Pride showed through Mama’s voice; tears pricked Amara’s eyes. A frothy mixture of love, gratefulness, guilt, and sadness. Everything about her future came from trying to avoid the mistakes of the past. And that included pickiness with men. She wouldn’t repeat her mother’s pain, not even anything similar.

  “I’m trying.” She squeezed her shoulder and stretched out on the opposite couch. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “I had a little snack, but I’m not very hungry tonight.” Her mother’s gaze slid back to the television screen. In the glow, she looked older, garishly illuminated by the dancing colors. Like the chemo was aging her tenfold.

  “I’ll make us something, even though it’s late.” She checked her phone: 8:20 p.m. The long days were taxing but worth it. Almost twelve hours at the job was something she could do only when in love with her position.

  “Was Eddie home already?”

  “He came back in the afternoon. He’s in some sort of mood today.”

  She groaned as she roused to standing, her body wanting to stay sprawled on the couch until morning. Preferably in Travis’s arms again. Though who knew when would be a good time to venture back over there. The fence with Eddie needed mending first. And then she had to figure out what the hell Travis even meant to her.

  She wandered into the kitchen, perusing the cabinets and fridge until she found a tasty, easy meal to whip up: soft-shell tacos with leftover veggies and guacamole. She served up two for herself and one for Mama and returned to the living room.

  “Miguel came over today to drop off some tamales. Did you see them in the fridge?”

  “No, I didn’t. How nice of him.” Miguel was a family friend who, in the earlier years, had been like a stand-in father for her and Eddie. He had never married, and Amara often wondered if he and her mother had maintained any sort of relationship in secret throughout the years. Whatever it was, it was still going strong. Those are the relationships that count.

  “He took me to my appointment, too, since Eddie wasn’t back in time.”

  Amara chewed on her taco thoughtfully. She’d lied to her mother to be able to go sleep at her lover’s house. Taking her mother to appointments wasn’t her responsibility, but she was missing quality time with her. During her recovery, when she was most vulnerable, most needy.

  And wasn’t that why she’d moved home?

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t around last night too.” A wave of guilt crashed over her. “I should have been.”

  “You needed to stay closer to work. I understand, mija. No te preocupes.”

  “It wasn’t that.” The words burbled up out of her core before she had a chance to stop them. “I stayed at a guy’s house. The guy I’m seeing.”

  Mama set her plate down, eyebrows lifted. “Oh? This is the person you’ve been texting?”

  She nodded, suddenly not hungry. She set her plate down beside her on the couch. “Yeah. I really like him. But I should have told you.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t.” Though her mother had been raised in a conservative home in rural Mexico, she had an openness with Amara that ran contrary to the rest of their family. Spending a night out of wedlock with a man wasn’t so dramatic and evil as other relatives might believe; in fact, Mama often encouraged nontraditional behavior, because she always said, “Look where following the rules got me.”

  “I wasn’t sure about him. I didn’t want to… I don’t know.” She gnawed at her lip, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not sure where it’s going yet.”

  “I think my daughter wants to fall in love.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled as she brought the taco to her mouth. “I can’t blame you for that.”

  After a few pleasant moments of silence, their eating interrupted only by the murmur of the television, Mama asked, “So when can I meet him?”

  Amara bit back a grin. “Actually…you already know him.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Travis.”

  Her mother gasped, eyes lighting up appreciatively. “That handsome man! Does Eddie know?”

  “Yes, actually. He found out today. And not in the best way.” She wiped at her mouth with a napkin. “He’s mad at us.”

  “He won’t be forever.”

  “We’ll see about that, I guess. And I really am sorry, Mama.” Amara shoved a piece of hair behind her ear. She’d always been sensitive to letting her down—when Papa walked away, she’d done everything possible to never make her mother sad or upset. The feeling persisted into her adult life, would probably be with her until she died.

  “Mi amor, don’t be so triste.” Her mother tutted. “You have your own life. Whether you spend the night with a boy or with a friend, it doesn’t matter to me. You are twenty-six years old. You have your own life. I want you to have one, you know.”

  Amara pinched her eyes shut, tears arriving. But you almost died…and I would have never had more time with you. “But I want to be here for you.”

  “And you are.” Her mother creased her brow, sending her the closest thing to a stern yet loving glare possible. “Don’t forget it. Here we are, right now.” She tutted again. “I love you, mija. No more tears.”

  Her mother knew her too well. She laughed, wiping away an escaped tear, and got up to hug her.

  When she pulled away, the front door opened. Eddie crossed the threshold, eyes narrowing.

  “What happened?”

  “Just loving each other,” Amara said, smiling up at him. “Like we all love each other.”

  Eddie frowned. “I’m not talking to you right now.” He tossed his keys on the table and headed down the hallway.

  “Eddie.” Their mother’s voice was stern, a tone they didn’t hear often. “Come in here and say hello to your sister.”

  Eddie didn’t respond immediately. Amara snuggled closer to her mother, relishing her warmth, the faint beating of her heart. Finally Eddie emerged from the hallway, frowning at both of them.

  “Did she tell you what she did?”

  “Yes. It sounds romantic.” Her mama patted her on the head.

  “It’s not romantic; it’s weird. And it’s like…a little fucked up.”

  Their mother tutted. “Language.”

  “Well, it is! You both were lying to me. How long has this been going?”

  She sighed, picking at the edge of the couch. “I don’t know. I feel like it started as soon as I laid eyes on him.”

  Their mother murmured with appreciation.

  “It was unavoidable! I swear. I knew how you felt. I just… I couldn’t stop it.”

  “That’s how you know it’s love,” Mama cooed.

  “Mama, stop.” She swatted her hand in the air, like batting away the suggestion. “I don’t know what it is. I’m seeing.” It was supposed to be just sex. Now it’s something else…and I don’t know what. But she could never admit that to either of them.

  “What’s next? Travis doesn’t work out, you wanna try Lex? Maybe Geo? Hell, let’s try out the whole crew, Mar. That’s all I keep ’em around for, so you can pick whoever you want. Apples in a tree!”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s dramatic and you know it.”

  “Whatever. I’m pissed.” He stomped away but quickly returned. “Now shit’s always gonna be weird with the guys. Forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “Yes.” Eddie threw his hands up in the air. “Best friends don’t mix with siblings. It’s a fucking rule.”

  “Eddie,” their mother hissed.

  “Maybe in your rule book,” Amara countered.

  “It’s in all the rule books. Because if he hurts you, I’ll have to kill my best friend. And I will do that.” He stomped off again, and this time didn’t return quickly. Amara sighed, snuggling back into her mother’s embrace.

  “He’ll get over it,” Mama murmured. “In time. The anger will pass.”

  Amara retired to the bathroom to take a shower. While she eased out
of her clothes, a text from Travis came through. Can you talk?

  About to get in the shower. Eddie’s home too.

  Travis sent a fast reply. Fuck. How bad is it?

  She sighed while she typed her response. He’s pissed. Says if you hurt me, he’ll have to kill his best friend. He’s not above doing that.

  Hurting you is the opposite of what I plan to do.

  She smiled down at his message for a while, pondering her response. She could see him being a doting boyfriend. Someone who might make her perfectly happy for a perfectly long time.

  You saw the spot?

  She nibbled on her lip, doubt clouding her bliss. How could she politely say she’d seen a side of Travis that made her belly hurt? Her fingers hovered over the keys.

  You looked good. That, at least, was true.

  Then got the even better idea to take a special picture for him. One that he might drool over. One that might divert the conversation back into a territory she knew how to manage. She held the camera in front of her, facing the mirror, tilting her head, letting her dark hair spill over one side of her body.

  His response came fast. Babe. You’re killin me. Too sexy to handle.

  A picture message came through—it was Holt’s legs splayed out on the couch, a crotch shot from above. This is where you should be.

  She giggled. I’ll be there in my dreams tonight.

  I’ll be sure to save all my sweet juices for you.

  Lifting a brow, she tapped out a response. Kinky.

  Another picture message came through: a half-empty gallon of orange juice. She laughed, shaking her head. Those juices do a body good, but the other kind does a body better.

  Travis wrote back a moment later: You’re gonna force me to come to your house and kidnap you if you keep talking like that.

  She got into the shower with a permagrin. He was the first man in a long time to consistently spark butterflies in her belly. And in the wake of Eddie’s discovery, even though it had seemed like a good idea earlier that day, even though she still didn’t know how to reconcile his career with hers…one-and-done wasn’t even an option when it came to this man.

  * * *

  Travis huffed as the phone clicked over to voice mail again. His call history showed the embarrassing truth—fifteen unanswered calls to Eddie since yesterday morning when he’d discovered the truth about Travis and Amara. And at this rate, it seemed like his best friend would never call him back.

  Travis pocketed the phone. Today Eddie was scheduled to come in…but Travis doubted he’d show. Not if he was pissed enough to ignore fifteen phone calls over the span of a full day.

  Travis pushed through the heavy doors into the track room. It was quiet and a bit cooler in there, the infrequent sounds of shoes scuffs and heavy breathing echoing through the air. He tossed his phone and office keys into a cubby and tore off his shirt. It was time for a midday break; he had a lot of energy to burn off.

  He pushed himself to a run, practicing what he might say when Eddie finally came around to listening to him.

  Amara and I get along really well. Like…freakishly well. I feel so comfortable around her. She’s gorgeous, she’s kind, she’s smart, she serves others…

  The sound of his feet against the rubber track provided a steady beat to his thoughts. I’ve never met anyone quite like her. You should know how cool she is, after all. You love her more than anyone. Except maybe your mom.

  Maybe Eddie would laugh at that part. Provided he stayed to hear past Amara and I.

  I’m so sorry you found out like you did. But it’s been happening. And you should be happy for it. Because you’re my best friend. You’re the most important guy in my life.

  He pushed himself faster, the anxiety of his imagined dialogue urging him along.

  I know you’ve always said Amara is off-limits. I tried to ignore her; I really did.

  Sweat prickled at his temples. He began to lap the other runners.

  Just hear me out, buddy. I know this is crazy to even think about, but hang with it, I swear. He tried to imagine the protests, the anger. I’m not gonna hurt her. I’m not playing her; I’m not in it for sex. This is serious.

  He pushed himself to sprinting as he crested the curve.

  I love your sister.

  His legs wobbled, and he veered off the course, struggling to slow down, regain control. He stumbled to a stop, heart racing, resting his palms against the back of his head.

  Could that be true? So soon? He squatted, touching the ground with his fingertips to steady himself.

  Whatever the hell was going on inside him, it needed time to chill. He took a shaky breath and rose to standing, heading for the cubbies by the door. Runs tended to clear his mind, help him find answers. But this run left him feeling more untethered than ever before.

  I love Amara.

  The thought drifted through his brain like snowfall in LA—strange, dazzling, completely unheard of.

  That was enough for today. Tugging on his shirt, he headed for the front desk, where Melanie sat. “Let me know if Eddie shows up. I’ll be in my office.”

  He retreated to his office, checking his phone. Amara messaged, as though she’d been with him on that run, listening to his thoughts.

  Eddie is still mad. Barely talking to me. I feel like I shouldn’t come over until this smooths over a little bit.

  She was right; Eddie needed time to cool. And it would only make it worse if Amara holed up at his place in the interim…even though he was desperate for that very thing.

  Anxiety licked through him. How long could this last? At the outset, forever had seemed like a possibility. But now that he was in the thick of it—now that he could even think of her name and the word love in the same sentence—he convinced himself that Eddie would forgive him. See it as a mere misstep that could be accepted and absorbed into the fabric of life, like a jagged edge worn smooth by erosion.

  Life had to go back to normal.

  He wouldn’t lose his best friend.

  Because who would you choose now?

  There could never be a choice. The equation had mutated too far, the two parts had become incomparable. Both Amara and Eddie were invaluable in their own right, and Travis couldn’t operate without either.

  He needed both Valenzuelas in his life. And he was determined to keep them there, come hell or high water.

  Chapter 15

  That night, Amara returned home on eggshells. It had been a day and a half since Eddie’s inglorious discovery, and he hadn’t spoken to her since his heated words yesterday. And as sort of a penance, she’d decided that going to Travis’s couldn’t happen until everyone made nice.

  Besides, she needed to figure out what the hell was eating her alive on the inside. That prefight sportscast hung like a storm cloud in the back of her mind, threatening to turn into a tornado. Why should she care about it? It was his life. His career. He could do what he wanted.

  But you want him.

  It was two puzzle pieces that refused to fit together, an insolvable riddle that tormented her in the quiet moments. She wanted Travis more than what made sense. But being with him was like an endorsement for violence, a secret thumbs-up behind the curtain of her career.

  She didn’t have the answers. Just an insistent pulsing between her legs, especially whenever her thoughts wandered to Travis, driving home the need to make nice. She might not make it more than a few days without seeing that dirty-blond, muscled hunk again.

  When she pushed into the apartment, Eddie and Mama sat on the couch, watching television. She forced a bright smile, like her demeanor alone could convince Eddie that everything was perfectly fine, and always had been. “Hey. I’m home.”

  Mama turned to look at her, waving her nearer. “Amara, mija, come here.”

  Eddie didn’t look at her, but he grumbled something resembling, “Hey, Mar.”

  Amara sat on the couch next to Eddie, staring at him, daring him to make eye contact. He wouldn’t meet her ga
ze. “What’s up? How was your day?” She nudged Eddie. “Have I told you recently how good you’re starting to look? My God. This workout routine is really working.”

  Eddie sighed. “You don’t need to go overboard.”

  “I’m not. It’s all true. You look great.” She paused, settling back into the couch. “Seriously, I would tell you that even if I weren’t desperate for you to acknowledge my existence.”

  Their mother murmured her agreement. “It’s nice to get a compliment from your sister, Eduardo. Especially when she feels guilty.”

  Eddie cracked a grin, playing with the shoelaces of the foot crossed over his knee. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Your brother and I have been talking,” Mama said, her gaze drifting back toward the television. “Because I won’t live with this sort of tension in my house anymore.”

  Amara leaped for joy on the inside. If anybody had the power to guilt-trip Eddie into getting the hell over this, it was their mother. “And you shouldn’t have to. Not when you’re recovering.”

  Eddie cast her a dirty look. “Just so you know, I’m talking to you for her sake.”

  “Good,” Amara said. “Whatever works.”

  “And this tension wouldn’t be here if you had left my friends alone like I told you to since you were literally fifteen.”

  Amara fought the urge to roll her eyes. And it was back to her fault again. It was sorta her fault—but how could she control attraction, anyway? God, it was such an infuriating setup. Her only salient defense was, Well, why did you have to find a best friend who makes celebrities weep?

  A thick silence settled among them while Amara counted to ten. Best not to lash out and push him away. “I’m really sorry about how you found out. I didn’t want it to happen like that.”

  Eddie’s mouth was a thin line as he picked at something on his shoe. “You both lied to me.”

  Her chest tightened. “By omission, yes. But we didn’t know what was happening. It happened so fast.”

  Another tense silence bore down like a fist closing at her throat.

  “So are you together now or what?”