Page 74 of The Jack*ss in Class

Tempest’s face flushed, her eyes dropping to her plate.

Something incredibly hot and protective surged through me.

“Actually,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Ithink Tempest’s body is both perfect and sexy as hell.” I turned to look directly at her. “I’m hot for her because of her curves, not despite them.”

The table fell silent again, but this time Tempest looked up, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of surprise and gratitude that made my chest tight.

“Bien dicho,” Abuela Estrella declared from the other table, her eyes homed in on me. “I knew I liked you, young man. More of my family needs to embrace that energy.”

At least half the table had the sense to look abashed by their matriarch’s chastisement.

Ophelia stood and grabbed one of the plates stacked with grilled meats. “Who wants more food?”

The conversation shifted back to the party, everyone avoiding eye contact with me and Tempest. She leaned closer to me.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to say that.”

“I meant every word,” I told her quietly.

Something flashed in her eyes, vulnerability, maybe, before she looked away. “They’re just used to me being the odd one out. I always have been.”

“Their loss,” I said simply. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the most interesting person here. Except maybe AbuelaNovela. Where did she get that outfit?”

Her smile then was small but real, and I realized I’d do just about anything to see it again.

“Why don’t you go check on Burrito while I help clear the dishes.” She got up, taking my plate and noddingtoward the backyard where Burrito Petito was holding court in his new enclosure.

“I can do dishes.”

She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “And be subjected to more of my family? I don’t think so.”

Tío Pedro appeared beside me and jerked his head, indicating for me to follow him. I went, but was going to keep my eye on Tempest.

“She’s different with you,” he said without preamble.

“Different how?”

“More herself.” He studied me thoughtfully. “Tempest has spent her whole life trying to fit into spaces that weren’t built for her. Driven enough for her mother, academic enough for her father, fashionable enough for Catalina, strategic enough for Rosalind, social enough for Ophelia, and athletic enough for Freddie.” He shook his head. “It’s exhausting being everyone’s afterthought.”

The way Tempest had shrunk under her family’s attention yet bloomed under Abuela’s and Pedro’s spoke volumes. “She’s not an afterthought to me.”

“I can see that.” His eyes were kind but assessing. “She has gifts none of them understand. Things she keeps hidden because they’ve never been valued.”

“Her writing?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Pedro’s eyebrows rose. “She told you about that?”

“No. But I’ve noticed.” And damn if Jules hadn’t been right. “She’s talented, isn’t she?”

“Extraordinarily.” Pride colored his voice. “But don’t tell her I mentioned anything. She thinks it’s our secret,though I am sure AbuelaNovela knows too. Mamá knows everything.”

“I won’t say a word,” I promised, looking back toward the house where I could see Tempest helping clear the table, carefully maintaining that good girl persona she kept wearing like a mask. “I’d love if she’d let me in.”

Pedro clapped me on the shoulder. “Be that safe space for her like you were today, and she just might.”

The party was winding down when I finally caught Tempest alone on the back porch, away from the chaos of her family. Burrito Petito had been settled for the night, and most of the relatives had dispersed to various parts of the house.

“Sorry about all that at dinner,” she said, leaning against the railing. “My family can be a lot.”

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