Page 194 of Mexico Can Choke On It
He whirls her around so fast it’s a miracle she doesn’t go flying.
“Oh, for the love of—” he groans, fake-gagging. “Don’t look, sweetie. Uncle Gavin needs to have a deeply uncomfortable chat with your parents about appropriate party behavior.”
Bryce clears his throat. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Ten,” I say, wiping lipstick off my chin.
Gavin sighs. “Once again, you’re violating the Overshare Treaty we established. Happy for you. Deeply disturbed. Never want to talk about this again.”
Bryce moves to close the closet door, but Gavin stops him and points. “Not so fast, Sterling. I’m here because the princess puked on her dress. That’s above my pay grade.”
“Oh, baby girl,” I coo, taking her from him and holding her at eye level. “Daddy’s about to have the worst case of blue balls in Beverly Hills, and it’s all your fault.”
Ruby responds with a perfectly timed burp.
Gavin claps Bryce on the back. “You’ve got two women in your life now pulling the strings. God help you.”
The bitter edge in his voice hits me hard. It’s been a year since Fiona was dragged away in handcuffs during what was supposed to be their “I do” moment. Now Gavin treats love like it’s a pyramid scheme designed to separate fools from their dignity. He’s thrown himself into Heartvest with the intensity of a man trying to escape his every thought, working eighteen-hour days and treating every business deal like personal vindication.
The worst part? He’s convinced himself he’s better off alone. Claims romantic relationships are just elaborate cons waiting to happen. I want to shake him until he snaps out of it, tell him that not every woman is a sociopathic, money-laundering con artist. But when Gavin’s in full defensive mode like this, it’s like hugging a porcupine—painful for everyone.
I hope he’ll find his way back to love. Because giving my heart to Bryce? Having Ruby? It rewired my soul, and I want that for my brother.
Hours later…
Party stragglers have claimed our driveway, setting up camp in a semicircle of mismatched chairs, surrounded by half-eaten food. As the sun dips below the horizon, the streetlights flicker on, their light slowly replacing the natural glow of dusk.
I’m curled up in Bryce’s lap, his arms around me like a security blanket. Across from us, Hana cradles a zonked-out Ruby in one arm while gesturing wildly with the other mid-story—she’s sharing an animated tale of her solo travel adventures.
“Last month, I spent two weeks in Bali,” she continues. “I stayed at this incredible resort where they bring you breakfast on a silver tray every morning, and the infinity pool overlooked the most gorgeous rice terraces…”
I bite back a smile. Hana’s version of “adventure” involves room service and spa treatments, which is way different than my college days of hostels and questionable street food. But I’m not bursting her bubble. She’s happy, she’s free, and she’s figuring out who she is. That’s worth celebrating, even if it comes with a five-star price tag.
“Gavin, you simply must try solo travel,” she gushes. “It’s life-changing.”
“Not a chance. The last thing I need is to end up alone in some foreign country with a beautiful stranger who sees me as a walking ATM. Been there, done that. I don’t repeat my mistakes.”
His response only fuels Hana’s determination, and I lean back, happily settling in for the show. Their verbal sparring is like watching a black hole try to devour the sun.
I glance around at the aftermath—tipsy balloons, murdered cake, and the smell of celebration still clinging to the air. My heart is obnoxiously full. Like stupid-happy, can’t-believe-this-is-my-life full.
“Thank you for my do-over graduation party,” I say, gently kissing Bryce’s lips.
His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer. “Love you, Pip.”
“Hey, Wildcat?” Gavin’s voice cuts through my post-kiss haze.
“Yeah, bro?”
“Your car’s being towed.”
WHAM.
I shoot up so fast, I headbutt Bryce under the chin.
“OW, Pip!” he groans, hand flying to his jaw.
“Sorry, Moneybags.”
