“Not really. Just working out what you’re all about. Now that I’ve actually seen you with Vince, I’m getting a lot of conflicting signals.”
“Vince brings out a different side of me,” I tell him. I don’t know why I tell him that—I guess I don’t want him to think I’m mean. “We have a complicated past.”
Grabbing his drink and easing back on the lounger, he says, “Tell me about it.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How’d you get involved with him?”
Smiling faintly, I tilt my head to look over at him. “I probably shouldn’t say.”
“Did you know who he was?”
“Yeah. We went to school together. I was young, though. I didn’t realize how serious it was. I didn’t work that part out until Mateo showed up at my house, pinned me against a car, and then had Adrian escort me to his house so he could hold a gun to my head and threaten to kill me.”
“Sexy.” He manages to say this without even a hint of irony.
I grin, feeling more and more like he’s a kindred spirit. “Right? He could’ve just proposed right then and saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
“How long before he moved on you?”
“Not long. He was really sneaky about it, though. I didn’t actually…” I pause, debating whether or not to share. It doesn’t make me sound all that intelligent, but he seems interested, so I spill anyway. “I didn’t know it was him. Vince and I fought. Sometimes he stayed the night with Joey to get some space. At the time, Mateo was actually really friendly to me so I didn’t realize he was… you know, him. Anyway, he came to our room a couple times when Vince was out and I thought it was Vince just coming home late. On reflection, the sex was much different so I should’ve known better, but I also didn’t realize at the time he actually had the balls to do something that insane and then sit at the breakfast table with me the next morning and watch me kiss my boyfriend.” A fond smile flirts around my lips and I shake my head. “I wasn’t prepared for Mateo.”
“That’s a little sketchy,” he states.
“Maybe a little,” I agree, my head bobbing in agreement.
“This is the man you’re dying to get back to, huh?”
“This was a long time ago,” I tell him, dismissively. “He has unorthodox methods, but we’re happy now. Or, we were before this happened.”
“You don’t think you could be happy here with Vince?”
I shake my head with grim certainty. “I know we can’t. I tried with Vince back when I actually wanted to be with him. I made a deal with Mateo to get us out of his house so Vince and I could try to salvage our relationship after all the damage Mateo inflicted upon it. I gave up all the trappings Jessica thinks I care about; I left Mateo’s house for half of a duplex with four pieces of furniture, we gave up Mateo’s stream of cash—whatever Vince made from lower level work and whatever I scraped together working at the bakery is what we lived on. We were pretty close to broke. I clipped coupons. I gave up on the idea of going to college after graduation because I wouldn’t be able to pay for it without Mateo. I gave up everything to try with Vince, and it didn’t work. I wanted it to. It made me sick to my stomach to think of ending things. If I couldn’t make it work then, in that state of mind, there’s no chance in hell it’s going to work this time.”
Rafe sighs almost contentedly. “I like you so much better when Vince isn’t around.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“You’re more open. Vulnerable. I like it.”
“Do you?”
He nods. “It takes courage to be vulnerable. I like vulnerable women.”
I can’t stifle a grin. “That makes you sound like a real creep.”
“You seem to like creeps,” he states, grinning right back.
I don’t bother denying it. Before I can say anything else though, his gaze drifts beyond me and his smile dims.
“Don’t look now,” he says, his eyes still behind me, “but your captor boyfriend’s coming back.”
“His ‘Mia is enjoying herself’ sensor must be going haywire,” I mutter.
“Yeah, he’s mean-mugging me. Get up.”
I frown at his sudden shift in tone. “What?”
He nods his head, his gaze drifting back to me. “I’m thirsty. Go get me another drink. Get yourself one, too.”
Vince has already made it within earshot, but I push up off the lounger anyway.
“Where are you going?” Vince asks.
“To get Rafe a drink.”
“You’re not his maid,” Vince states. “He can get his own drink.”
Propping a hand on my hip, I cock my head at Vince. “Seriously? You’ve been treating me like a maid the whole time I’ve been here.”
He doesn’t argue with me, just nods at my lounger. “Sit back down.”