Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

Oddly I feel self-conscious of the fact that my place is super dude-like, your stereotypical bachelor pad, and I wonder if she’s going to judge me for not being more mature.

Not that she is—she lives with her brother, for crying out loud.

Still, I feel like a man playing pretend house with his big kid couch and his big kid kitchen, all the while feeling like I don’t know what I’m doing.

True walks to the dining room slash kitchen table and looks down at the spread, humming with pleasure.

“Wow, Mateo, this looks amazing.”

She looks amazing.

A bit more put together than the night we went for pizza, True has on jeans and a light pink button-down shirt that looks silky and soft. Her long hair is down, wavy. It’s dark and glossy, and I speculate about my chance of being able to touch it at any point this evening.

“Are we eating, like—right now?”

God I hope so. I’m starving. “Only if you want.”

“I could eat…it is six o’clock. Usually I’ve had dinner by four—no joke.”

I pull out a chair so she can take a seat, ever the gentleman, and offer her something to drink from the bar.

She glances up at me, doe eyes bright. “Water is great, thank you.”

“One water, coming right up!” With a flourish, I stroll to the kitchen, search for a glass with no water spots, fill it with ice and water from the purifier. Pour a second one for myself, because who wants to drink alone at a dinner party?

I serve her dinner, spooning food onto a white, round plate before settling into a chair myself.

“So how has it been living with your brother? Is it weird?”

“It’s not the worst. I thought it would be…” She shifts in her seat. “I thought he would be in my business more than he has been, but it’s been alright. Or maybe he’s just too busy to butt in like he usually does.”

“I cannot imagine having any of my sisters live with me. Not only do I not have the space, each and every one of them is obnoxious—as you probably gathered.”

As you probably gathered?

Who says that!

I want to facepalm myself for sounding like such a tool.

“I liked your sisters. They’re funny.”

Funny-looking, I want to say, but I realize it would sound childish. “Yeah, they’re funny alright.”

“What was it like having all those sisters growing up? I only had brothers, and they were hardly around. Both of them knew pretty early on they wanted to be athletes when they grew up, so I was kind of left in the dust.”

“Well.” I wipe the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “I played with lots of Barbies.”

True chokes on her enchiladas, sauce dripping from her lips as she sputters. “That is not what I was expecting you to say.”

“Barbies, My Little Pony, and what else…let me think. We played quinceañera.”

“What’s quinceañera? I mean, I think I know what it is, but I don’t have any experience with one.” She’s stuffing rice in her mouth by the forkful.

“It’s basically an elaborate birthday party, a celebration when a girl turns fifteen, but my sisters liked to pretend they were throwing them for funsies, or just to make my life a living hell. They’d dress me up and I’d have to pretend to escort them to the living room, and they’d sing and dance. Kind of like a pretend wedding, but louder.” I think for a second. “Oh, and they put me in dresses sometimes, too. The older ones didn’t give a shit about my masculinity.”

True laughs. “Better than having too much of it, like my brother Tripp. He used to refuse to cry because he thought it wasn’t masculine—I can’t imagine being in a relationship with him. Chandler sure has her work cut out for her.”

“Is she around a lot?”

“Not really. They spend a lot of time at her place since she actually lives in the city and he’s at the stadium or wherever the team practices. Molly takes care of his dog most of the time, and now me, since I’m there.”

“Remind me again who Molly is?” I feel like she’s mentioned her before.

“The neighbor girl. She’s taken it upon herself to be indispensable. I think we’re all kind of excited for the day she gets her driver’s license so she can run Tripp’s errands. No lie, if her parents don’t get her a car, I swear my brother will.”

“Dang, I wish I had a Molly.”

True is spooning barbacoa onto her plate now, inhaling the fumes and rolling her eyes back. Heaven. “Maybe if you lived in a house, you’d have a Molly. Condos are tough—I lived in one too and never knew another soul in the building.”

“It sucks, but it’s also nice. Everyone here gives me my privacy.” I pause. “Except my sisters, who drop by unexpectedly whenever they feel like it.”