Page 130 of Stolen Bases

“Maybe?” She shrugs.

I completely understand why she thinks I have reservations. Our relationship is a secret because her brother hates me. As does her mom, who thinks we broke up. I wasn’t surprised she reacted the way she did.

Talia and I have had a lot of deep conversations about her childhood and the relationship she has with her mom and brother. From an outsider’s perspective, her mom choosing Nico’s side is par for the course. I don’t think Mrs. Romero realizes how badly it hurts Talia when she does that. How it makes Talia feel less important. Second best.

It fucking kills me. Which is why I need to fix this shit with Nico before we tell him about our relationship. The last thing I want is for this amazing woman to be in pain. I refuse to cause her any more suffering. She’s my world, and I will do anything to ensure she’s happy and safe. I will always put her first.

“I’m not worried. I can’t wait for my entire family to meet you. They are going to fall for you just like I did.”

“But…”

I pull her ass to the edge of the bed and grip it tight. “I promise it will be different with them. My family will support us. We can just be us. Will you please go with me to my niece’s birthday party next month? Please?”

A slow smile takes over her face. It’s happy, bright, and blinding. It’s a smile I want to keep permanently on her face for the rest of my life.

“If I can switch my shifts around, I’d love to go with you and meet your family.”

My heart fucking lurches over itself, and I can barely contain my grin. I tackle her to the sunbed and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her. “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”

“You make me happy too.” Her silver eyes sparkle as she looks up at me in awe.

I know I can make Talia happy, but how long will that happiness last if her family doesn’t accept our relationship? If they cut her out and break her heart?

I carry my girl back to bed, and before I worship every inch of her body, I make a silent promise to do what I can to make sure Talia stays happy. She means everything to me, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

Even mend the burned bridge between me and her brother.

thirty-one

Talia

“Knock, Knock.” Zia Rosewalks inside my bedroom without invitation, closing the door behind her. Her sweet, floral scent fills the room in a cloud around her. It’s as bold as her personality and brings with it a sense of familiarity that calms my nerves.

“You know it only works if you actually knock on the door, right?” I tease.

My aunt is hardly ever up before the sun rises. Working late hours running a restaurant has turned her into a night owl. There’s only one reason she’d be up this early—to talk.

It’s been weeks since everything went down with me, my mom, and Cam, and things still aren’t back to normal. Not that I expected them to be. Mom made her stance against me and Cam being together, and I refuse to give up the man I love. As far as she knows, we aren’t together, and my attitude towards her has been… Let’s go with frosty.

I’m still hurt. So, I have made myself scarce to avoid the tension between us. I’ve also declined calls from Nico, so I don’t have to lie to his face.

“And risk you ignoring my knocks and waking everyone else up? Pass.” Zia Rose sits on the edge of my bed and crosses her jean-clad leg. At fifty-six, she has all the swagger and elegance of a much younger woman. With the Romero trademark raven hair,gray eyes, and curvy features, she still turns heads wherever she goes.

She watches me as I slip into a clean pair of scrubs and brush my hair. I avoid looking her in the eye when I step in front of the mirror and plait my long locks into two French braids.

“So that’s how you want to play this?” she asks, brow arched.

When I was younger, I’d be spilling at one lift of that perfectly manicured brow. My aunt has always been the one I talked to about stuff. Not that I can’t talk to my mom about anything; it’s just easier with my aunt. But I can’t do that now. I don’t want to put her in a position where she has to lie for me.

Steeling my nerves, I turn around to face her, keeping my face as neutral as possible. I refuse to break down and show her my cards. She might have an inkling that I’m still with Cam, but she doesn’t know for sure.

“I’m not playing any games, Zia.”

“No. You’re not.” She nods, picking her words carefully. “That’s not your style. But going behind your mother’s back to see a certain man she asked you not to isn’t either. So…” She shrugs, lifting her hands in the air. “Maybe you’ve changed.”

Have I changed? Or am I finally growing into the person I’ve always meant to be?

I’m not sure. What I know is that I have always been the one to apologize first and keep the peace. I’m the good girl.

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