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Bad Cruz(78)

Author:L.J. Shen

“Oh, Nessy, I heard he’s still gorgeous! A friend of mine saw him at a steakhouse out of town and said he’s a real dreamboat. You should totally go for it.”

She looked so relieved, so happy to share a piece of gossip so normal between sisters yet foreign to us, for a moment, I was actually tempted to.

Okay, not, but still.

Trinity threw her arms around me, squeezing me into an excited hug.

“Think about the story. Robert Gussman came back after all these years and got his family back! That’s practically a fairytale.”

Robert Gussman never had his family in the first place, but now wasn’t the time to correct her.

“Yeah.” I smiled, patting her back. “That’s a nice story.”

“Just stay away from Cruz. We don’t need that kind of drama on our hands.”

“Sure don’t.”

My promise to stay away from Cruz Costello lasted for a little over twenty-eight minutes.

Twenty-seven and fifteen seconds, if I were counting, which clearly, I wasn’t.

Not my fault, seeing as I walked through the door—to my house, mind you—and there he was, perched on the couch next to Bear, both of them holding joysticks, staring at the TV, wide-eyed, shouting at each other both directions and profanity in decibels more suited for Madison Square Garden.

“Take him. Take. Him. You have enough dexterity. I got your back, dude. Just aim for the heart,” Bear practically growled, elbowing Cruz. “Do you know where the heart is?”

“Yeah, jackass, I’m a doctor.”

“Well, good thing Mom takes me to Dr. Finch outta town, because your degree says heart, but your aim says leg.”

“I’m trying to get to the center, but the bastard keeps on throwing spike-bombs at me.”

“Dude!” Bear screamed, punching his joystick’s buttons with his thumb. “I’m a bastard.”

My throat clenched in horror, shame, and…yup, there it was, guilt, too, like I had a choice in the matter. I’d tried to shield Bear from this term for so long, had done my best to ensure he never felt less-than…

Cruz rolled his eyes, still staring at the TV as he moved his joystick from side to side. “If you’re looking for sympathy, better try next door. Here. I finished him off for you, n00b. Now let me trail back and find some life potions before I fucking expire.”

That finally made me snap out of the weird haze that had taken over me.

“Language!” I roared, slamming my purse against the credenza by the door. “This house is an F-bomb-free zone.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Cruz murmured, eyes still glued to the TV. He then threw Bear a side-eyed smirk. “Your mom’s cute.”

“Shut up, dude,” Bear snarled, hitting Cruz’s arm with his joystick.

Cruz chuckled. “Payback’s a b—witch.”

“What are you doing here?” I strode in and stood in front of the TV, blocking their view of medieval-looking characters in capes running through a dark maze while fire bombs landed all around them while they shouted at me being in the way.

“Well, I live here.” Bear threw up his arms in surrender, as if he wasn’t at fault for letting Cruz in.

“And I gave him a ride because I saw him walking with a broken skateboard under his arm while I was on my way back to work.”

“Yup.” Bear looked up at me innocently. “That happened, too.”

“How’d y’all get from Dr. Costello giving you a ride to Dr. Costello sitting on your couch, helping you stab a gory monster to death?”

Also, I so didn’t have any extra money for a new skateboard. Was I going to have to take out a loan?

I spun around to turn off the TV, aware Cruz’s eyes were probably focused on my ass. I was still mad at him for hanging out with Rob and calling Gabriella, and frankly, for simply hogging oxygen on a planet where our resources were slowly but surely dwindling.

Note to self: donate to an environmental charity when and if I get my bleep together and pay back my debt.

“Bear said he was hungry, so I offered to make him dinner.” Cruz smiled winningly, undeterred by my less-than-eager reception.

“Good news is Bear is not three anymore and can make his own food.”

“But it’s better when other people make it for you,” Bear pointed out.

“Which reminds me.” Cruz stood up, throwing the joystick on the couch. “I need to check on the pasta sauce and chicken nuggets. Be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” I volunteered.

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