Page 47 of The Overdue Kiss

“Are you sure? Because if I go in there, they might think there is something between us when you’ve told me before there isn’t.” He leans on his gas tank. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Another question I hadn’t been expecting today. My breathing picks up along with my heart rate. I’m not ready to decide.

“Um . . .”

“Hey,” he whispers and takes my hand, drawing me into him.

This time I don’t hesitate, seeking the comfort of his embrace. It’s as natural to wrap my arms around his front as I do when we’re riding. Only this time it’s different because his strong arms are tight around me too, almost desperate, like he’s been wanting to do this for a while.

“Hey,” he repeats, a warm whisper in my ear. “You don’t have to decide anything, okay? I also don’t want your family to force you to admit to something when you’re not ready. Maya, you are 100 percent worth waiting for—every second.”

I squeeze him tighter, and his helmet knocks into my temple.

“Gah. Sorry. This is the worst time to be wearing this. Let me... just try... to take...” He fidgets with the strap as I step away. “Wait... give me a second.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure at least three of my cousins have their noses pressed against the window staring at us right now. The longer we wait out here, the more questions they’ll have.”

His shoulders slump. “Stupid strap.”

“I got you.” It takes me a second to unlatch his strap. “It’s about time I did it for you for a change.”

He lifts his helmet off his head. The longer blond curls on his head bounce with their freedom, which he immediately runs his fingers through. We head up the path where my mom’s creepy gnome army greets us before we step up onto the porch.

“Last chance to run,” I say.

“Tempting, but I’m ready. Just, uh, don’t leave me alone too long.”

I smile up at him. “I won’t.”

As I open the door, Latin music and multiple voices slam into us. “Bienvenidos a casa de Santos.”

“Welcome to the Santos’s house. How close am I? My high school Spanish is rusty.”

I clap my hands. “Well done.”

“I have a funny feeling I’m going to need to practice more.”

“Luckily you’re a smarty-pants.” I unzip my jacket and shrug it off, setting both our gear on the entryway bench. “It should come naturally to you.”

“With numbers, yes. But I might need a brown-eyed tutor on the side for Spanish.”

“I think I know someone who fits the bill.”

“Me too.” He tugs on one of my curls and lets go so it coils back into itself.

“Stop stalling,” I say and point a finger into his chest. “You are going to get me into trouble if we don’t go greet everyone.”

“What if I like trouble?”

My skin warms at his stare. “Oh, and I hope you came hungry.”

He lifts his brow, confused, but doesn’t have time to ask as the rumblings of a stampede echo toward us.

My three little cousins beeline to the door, nearly trampling us to get outside to play. They scream a quick “hola” before bolting out the door.

“That’s Javier, Louisa, and Olive. The girls are?—‍”

“—‍your brother Andre’s. And Javier is your cousin Ruth’s.”

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