Page 5 of Disciplined: His Forbidden Crush

Summer felt his cheeks heat up, and he shook his head shyly. “Not really. None of them are really my type.”

Coco raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what exactly is your type, Summer?”

Summer hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Oh, I don’t know. Someone who’s seen a few things. Not so clean-cut.”

“A tough, rugged, older man?” Coco asked cheekily.

“Sure,” Summer agreed, feeling his face heat. “With a few scars and tattoos.”

Summer realized with a start that he was describing the kind of man who worked for his father, the rough, hardened men of the cartel. He wasn’t sure what to make of this revelation.

Coco seemed to sense his unease, and she placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their preferences.”

Summer nodded, trying to push the thought from his mind. He didn’t want to dwell on his past or the kind of men he had grown up around. Tonight was about enjoying the present, about being “Summer” instead of “Verano.” He would worry about the rest later.

He lost himself in the pulsing beat of the music. His body moved instinctively, his hips swaying and his arms raised above his head. He caught Coco’s eye, and they grinned at each other, reveling in the shared moment of pure, unadulterated fun.

Suddenly, Lila appeared at Summer’s side, a mischievous glint in her eye. She leaned in close, her voice barely audible over the music. “Hey, I just met this really hot guy at the bar. I think he’s totally your type!”

Summer’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “Lila, no. I don’t need you playing matchmaker for me.”

But Lila was already dragging him toward the bar, a triumphant grin on her face. Summer groaned internally, plastering a polite smile on his face as the man smiled back at him.

He had to admit, the guy was attractive. Tall and muscular, with chiseled features and a confident swagger. But there was something about him that didn’t quite fit Summer’s preferences. He was too polished, too artificial. Summer felt immediately out of his depth.

“Hi there,” the man said, his voice smooth and charming. “I’m Jake. Your friend Lila said I should get to know you.”

Summer shot Lila a pointed look before turning back to Jake. “It’s nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Summer.”

Jake’s eyes raked over Summer’s body, taking in his tight jeans and plunging neckline. “Summer. What a beautiful name for a beautiful man.”

Summer felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t entirely genuine. Still, he didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you,” he said awkwardly.

He shot a glare at Lila, who gave him a thumbs up and bounced off to wrap herself around Coco on the dance floor. Thanks a bunch, Lila.

“Really,” Jake said, smiling. “Your hair is gorgeous.”

Self consciously, Summer pushed his hair back over his shoulder. It was long, and the source of one of the ongoing arguments he’d had with his father. Back home he’d braided it, but now he let it fall loose down his back in soft, auburn waves. Not very macho, he thought, but he liked it that way.

Jake grinned. “Let me buy you a drink,” he said.

Summer accepted a Mai Tai, and perched on the stool to watch the bartender make it. He tried to muster up some enthusiasm. Maybe Jake had hidden depths. “So, Jake, what are you all about?” he asked, his voice taking on a playful tone.

“I work in direct sales,” Jake said. “So I’m basically my own boss.”

Summer nodded, not at all sure how direct sales differed from other sales. “What about for fun?” he asked flirtatiously.

Jake grinned, leaning in closer. “I’m a big fan of firearms. I spend a lot of time at the shooting range, honing my skills.”

Summer felt his smile stiffen. “Oh, really?” Summer said, feigning interest. “What kind of guns are you into?”

He watched as Jake puffed up, looking like a pigeon. “Handguns. Magnums. You ever fired a gun?”

Hesitating, Summer wondered what the best answer would be. “Sure,” he said in the end. Americans didn’t think that was weird, did they? Weren’t they all into guns?

Jake didn’t seem suspicious. “Where did you learn to shoot?”

Summer shrugged, trying to brush off the question. “My father has a large property in the country.” In truth, he had been handling guns since he was a child. Growing up in the cartel, it was a necessary skill.

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