Secrets & Surrender Read online

  “Yeah, let us know how we can help out with the show.”

  “What do you mean us?” I looked at Nic, panic starting to show on my face.

  “It’s for a good cause, and it’s for Juan’s school. I thought you’d be excited about this.” Nic’s brow furrowed in bewilderment.

  I didn’t know what to say. Julian stood behind him with a soft smile on his face. Why was I letting this guy get to me? I barely knew him.

  “Sure, why not?” I let out a breath. “What room is the meeting?”

  “I can’t wait!” Kristie cried, hugging me and then Nic. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “Yeah, fun.” I squeezed Nic’s hand tightly. I’m not sure why I felt the need to hold on to him at that moment. It was crazy really. I loved Nic. There was no one else for me.

  So why then did I suddenly feel a small empty space, that I hadn’t even known was there, slowly being filled with Spanish guitar music?

  chapter 22

  Mandi

  I did not want to be here.

  I had managed to distract Nic and Kristie for a few weeks, making up a number of reasons why I was too busy to help out with the talent show. When I finally ran out of excuses, I finally caved. Now here I was, trudging into the auditorium and holding on tightly to Nic’s hand. Kristie walked behind us, oohing and ahhing over the dozens of students dressed in an array of colorful costumes. Latin music boomed from the speakers lining the walls of the auditorium. There was a flurry of people around the stage. Some were busy making stage decorations. Others were practicing some dance moves. And Julian was in the center of it all.

  “Wow! What kind of dancing is that?” Kristie’s eyes were big pools of blue. I could tell she’d never seen anything like the sexy dance moves before.

  “Salsa,” I grumbled, plopping down in a seat next to Nic.

  A slender girl, who was almost as tall as Julian, was dancing with him. Shiny dark hair hung down her back in tight ringlets that swayed as she moved. His hands spanned her tiny waist. Then, in one swift move, he spun her, and her thigh-length skirt flared out with the spin.

  He was good. Too good.

  I glanced around the auditorium. Pretty much all the girls were at a stand still as they watched Julian sway his hips with his dance partner. His t-shirt, drenched with sweat, clung to his toned body.

  “I didn’t know Julian could dance. The man’s got talent,” Nic said.

  “He’s okay,” I mumbled.

  He chuckled. “Not everyone can be as good a dancer as you.” He leaned over, pecking my cheek.

  Julian did some fancy moves with his feet and the girl in his arms tried to follow. She was horrible. She took a misstep and her three-inch heels landed on his foot.

  “Son of a bitch!” Julian hopped on one foot as he grabbed hold of the other.

  I grinned. Yeah, I felt way better now.

  “Watch your steps, pendejo!” The girl placed her hands on her hips.

  “My steps? You were all over the place, Chela,” Julian growled.

  “Hey, I’m doing you a favor. Just because we’re cousins doesn’t mean you can push me around. And I’m not one of your fans, who’s going to drool all over you every time you flex your biceps.”

  “You’re doing me a favor?” He threw his head back, laughing. “Tía begged me to save a spot for you in the show. I should’ve known that you still have two left feet.”

  “Chingate guey!” Chela let out a slew of Spanish curses as she marched off the stage.

  I chuckled.

  “What did she say?” Kristie whispered.

  “She told him he was an asshole and to go fuck himself.”

  “Oh, that’s not nice.”

  Nic snickered.

  “Chela! Come back! It’s for the kids.” Julian limped after her.

  I barked out a laugh when she threw him the finger.

  Julian squinted under the bright lights, looking out into the auditorium. “Nic? Mandi? Is that you out there?”

  “Yeah, that’s them. I’m here too, Julian!” Kristie jumped up from her seat, waving.

  “Nice moves, man!” Nic called out.

  “Do you two dance? We could use another couple to do a Latin dance. And my dance partner here seems to have decided that this isn’t for her.”

  “I can barely do a two-step, but Mandi can dance. Show him, sweetheart.”

  My jaw dropped as I stared at Nic in shock. He smiled, looking very proud.

  “I . . . no . . . you . . . dance . . . what?”

  “Ooh, I want to see you dance,” Kristie said.

  Et tu, Kristie?

  What was up with them? Were they trying to get rid of me? It was like they were literally sending me to the wolves. Or in this case, Julian.

  “What about you, Kristie? I’m sure you’d love to dance with Julian, wouldn’t you?” I gave her my best you’re-my-friend-so-get-me-out-of-this-one look.

  She furrowed her brow, clueless. “What’s with your eyes?”

  Ugh! Should’ve known. Thanks a lot, Kristie.

  “Oh, nothing. I think I got some dust in them or something.” I got up from my seat and headed to the stage. I so did not want to do this. I quickly pulled my hair up into a ponytail. I wasn’t even near the stage lights and I was already hot.

  Julian gave me a sexy smirk when I approached the stage. A couple of the girls sitting in the front row literally sighed when he did that. He glanced over at them, winking. They giggled even louder.

  I rolled my eyes. I can’t believe I actually had to dance with this moron. I nearly tripped when I remembered that I had thought the same thing when I’d first met Nic.

  No. This was not at all like it was with Nic. Nic was so much better than Julian.

  “Do you know the Lambada?” Julian asked when I climbed onto the stage.

  “Yeah, but you were doing the salsa when we came in.”

  “That’s because it’s the only type of dance Chela knows.” He grinned as he leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “Stage fright?”

  I stiffened. “No.”

  “Good. I’ll get the music.”

  I took in a deep breath as I looked out into the dimmed auditorium. Nic had a big grin on his face. All I wanted was for him to be up here with me. I slipped off my sneakers. The last thing I needed was to be squeaking all over the stage. As the music began, I slowly swayed my hips.

  A couple of the girls gasped, and I turned to see what they were gawking at. Julian had tossed his shirt to the side and was turning to face me. It took a force of sheer willpower to keep my feet moving when I caught sight of a shirtless Julian. Every inch of his body was pure muscle. He held out his arms as he moved. The tattoo of the Aztec princess glistened under the lights. As he approached me, his hips swayed, highlighting every single crevice of his toned abdomen.

  When he spun around, I nearly tripped over myself as I took in the tattoo that covered his heavily muscled back. The gorgeous tattoo featured an Aztec warrior king in full regalia, carrying his bride, who had fainted in the strong arms of the mighty warrior.

  I gulped, my eyes darting to Nic.

  Julian shouldn’t be having this effect on me. I had Nic. I loved Nic.

  As Julian approached me, I tried to focus my eyes on his hips and mirroring his moves. My eyes zoomed in on a droplet of sweat as it rolled down his pecs and in between the muscles of his six-pack. When it disappeared into the waistband of his pants, my eyes flew up to his, my face heating in embarrassment.

  Catching me, he smirked, and moved closer. We weren’t even touching, and it was already torture for me. And then the music shifted, and I braced myself, knowing that we were at the part of the song where I would have to touch him.

  He reached out, grabbing my waist and pulled me against his chest. My heart pounded frantically.

  My mind screamed that I was out of shape and that was why I was out of breath and why my heart felt like it was about to explode. I kept repeating that to myself as ev
ery move he made brought me closer to him, knowing that it wasn’t true.

  His legs slid between mine. Slowly, his hands moved their way down my waist and to my backside, searing me. It was a classic Lambada dance move. It was sensuous, sexy. And I couldn’t believe I was letting him touch me like that. Worst of all, I couldn’t believe I liked the way it made me feel.

  I kept my eyes glued the floor. I couldn’t look at him. I kept my eyes down, watching his feet move. Then, placing a finger underneath my chin, he lifted my head, forcing me to look at him. My breath caught in my throat at the fiery passion I saw when our eyes locked.

  “Let yourself go. Dance for me, mamacita.” In one swift move, he tugged the band from my hair and spun me out.

  My hair flew out in a wave of black silk. And I was lost in the music that pounded in my chest. I closed my eyes and swayed my hips as the Latin rhythm pounded within me. I’d never felt so sexy and alive. I ran my hands up my body and threw my head back.

  Then I felt him behind me. Laying his hand over mine and over my stomach. Julian pressed against me, melding our bodies into a fireball. Everyone in the auditorium disappeared, and it was just Julian and me.

  He spun me again, and I slammed into his glistening chest. Holding me close, my heart pounded with his. His lips were dangerously close to mine. I breathed in his hot breath, and I couldn’t distinguish where my breath ended and where his began. Like the Aztec warrior on his back, he penetrated the shield I kept up to protect myself, conquering every fiber of my being. He was the Aztec warrior, fierce and demanding, and I melted into his arms.

  When the music finally stopped, he held on to me tightly. We were both breathing hard. My chest pushed against his as I tried to catch my breath. His lips were inches away from mine, and I felt the pull. Slowly, my eyes closed, waiting.

  There was a thunder of applause and whistles. I jerked back as if coming out of a fog and remembered where I was and who was watching. I shoved Julian away from me and looked out into the auditorium.

  “That’s my girl!” Nic was on his feet, fingers in his mouth, whistling.

  I nearly cried with relief or was it shame . . . or happiness? I didn’t know. I was so confused.

  I ran off stage, back to Nic’s side—where I belonged. I belonged with him. That’s what I kept telling myself. In between his hugs and words of adoration and Kristie’s high-pitched squeals asking me to teach her how to dance like that, I wondered why my mind kept drifting back to Julian.

  chapter 23

  Mandi

  I couldn’t believe Nic had left me.

  I sank down on the kitchen chair, exhausted. My hair was a mess, my jeans were powdered with flour, and there was some funky looking green stain on my shirt. Okay, so in reality Nic hadn’t left me. Christmas was a crazy time at my house. So crazy that when Nic told me his mother had begged him to return to Koppe and make amends with his father, I practically packed his bags for him.

  It’d only been two days since he’d left. Only two days since his lips had pressed down passionately onto mine. And I was already regretting that I’d encouraged him to go see his family. The only thing that kept me sane was the forty-eight hour cleaning and cooking marathon.

  It seemed like everyone and their dog was coming to our house for dinner. Seriously, Doña Trini was bringing her three Chihuahuas with her. She never left the house without them or her two older sisters. People were driving in from all over Texas and even from as far as LA. Mom’s tamales were famous among the Ruiz family so when Christmastime rolled around all the relatives, and even those who claimed to be related, swarmed the house. My parents welcomed them all, including Julian and his family from San Antonio.

  I wiped a cool towel across my brow. I couldn’t believe Mom actually invited Julian. It was bad enough I had to dance with him every week. Nic and Kristie were always in the auditorium during rehearsals. And thankfully, Julian was mostly all business.

  Though, there were times when I’d catch Julian looking at Nic and me with wondering eyes. I knew he was wondering why I was with Nic. It was those times that I would kiss Nic a little longer and hold onto him a little tighter.

  It would’ve been easier if Julian didn’t look so damn sexy when he danced. And what was with him taking off his shirt all the time? Would it have killed him to keep his sweat-drenched shirt on? I hated that I was getting used to the way he caressed my body against his a little longer than he needed to or how his lips always seemed to hover closer and closer with each move he made. No one seemed to notice. That was the thing about the Lambada, it was a sensual dance and he was supposed to touch me like that. Worst of all, I hated that my body was reacting to his touch. I wanted to hate him for it.

  But I couldn’t.

  The man tutored disadvantaged kids at the high school. And on Tuesdays—not that I was checking out his daily whereabouts—he visited the elementary school and read Spanish stories to first graders. And once a month, he volunteered with his brother, who was a lawyer, at a free law clinic in San Antonio. Not that I was keeping track of him or anything. I’d just happened to be chatting with Chela during one of the rehearsals.

  “No, Miguelito! Don’t stick that in your mouth.” I snatched the jalapeño out of his hand.

  “I want pickle,” he pouted.

  “Me too!” Selina cried.

  “It’s not a pickle.”

  “I’m hungry,” he whined.

  “Me too!”

  “Selina, you still have cereal in your bowl. Miguelito, you can wait a couple of hours, can’t you.”

  “No! I’m hungry now!”

  I groaned and dashed around the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards in search of something to feed to my little brother. I couldn’t blame him for being so grouchy. I was starving too. It didn’t help that the table was piled with food for Christmas dinner and the smell of all the tantalizing dishes was too much to ask from anyone.

  “Here take this.” I stuck a banana in his hand.

  “No.”

  “Eat it.”

  “No!”

  “Me, me, me.” Selina banged her spoon on the table.

  “Manuela, are you done with the corn husks? We need to get this next batch of tamales going,” Mom said as she walked into the kitchen.

  “What?” With Miguelito and Selina crying for attention and Juan’s loud music blaring from his room, I could barely hear her.

  “Los tamales?” she said louder.

  “They’re almost ready to put in the steamer. Juan! Turn the music down. I can’t hear myself think!”

  I ran out of the kitchen and banged on Juan’s bedroom door, trying to be heard over the screeching of electric guitars. “Juan! Turn that thing down and come help take care of Miguelito and Selina. I’m helping Mom with the tamales!”

  Ever since we’d moved to San Marcos, Juan had stayed in his room, listening to his heavy metal music. He kept to himself most of time. The only time I’d see him was during dinner, and Julian was the only person who he would talk to. It annoyed me to no end how much Juan looked up to him. I tried to get Juan together with Nic. Nic had even bought floor seats to a Spurs game. Yeah, that didn’t work. When I invited Juan to join us, he mumbled something about Nic being some crazy-ass white boy and slammed the door in my face. Lucky for him, Mom was in the living room when that happened because I wanted to rip his stringy, Tommy Lee-like hair out of his head.

  “What?” Juan threw the door open. His eyes were bloodshot, and his room had a strange musty smell.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  “None of your business.” I stuck my foot out when he attempted to close the door.

  “Uh-uh.” I gave him a skeptical look. “Go take care of Miguelito and Selina, will you?”

  “That’s women’s work. Call me when the food’s ready.”

  “Oh no you don’t.” I grabbed his shoulder when he turned back to go into his room. He was so tall. He seemed to have shot up over night. He was at least a head t
aller than me.

  “Leave me alone, puta!” he growled.

  “What did you call me?”

  “You heard me.” He scowled. “You think you’re better than us because you date some rich white boy and go to that fancy college.”

  “I do not. And why do you hate Nic so much? He’s been nothing but nice to you.”

  “That’s because you spread your legs for him.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Asshole!”

  “Well, its true. And that’s why you are a puta.”

  “Juan! Don’t you dare talk to your sister that way.”

  I spun around at the sound of Julian’s voice. He stood behind me, his huge body taking up most of the space in the small hallway. Underneath a leather jacket, he had on a white shirt and a charcoal tie, which he’d tucked into a pair of tight black jeans. His hair was pulled back and tied with that leather strap of his. Gloved hands clutched the motorcycle helmet resting against his hip. My heart beat wildly as I took in a clean-shaven jaw that clenched as he glared at Juan.

  Why, oh why did he have to look like that?

  I shouldn’t even be noticing what he was wearing or how good he smelled. And I definitely shouldn’t have noticed how close he was to me. My body shouldn’t have been reacting to him the way it was.

  “Julian, you’re here.” My voice was annoyingly breathless. And for some strange reason, my hand decided to go rogue and found its way to my head, my fingers brushing through my messy hair.

  I caught myself and quickly wiped them on my jeans. They were sweaty. I told myself it was from the heat from being in the kitchen all morning.

  “I hope you don’t mind. Your mother sent me to get you.”

  “Uh, not at all. If you’ll excuse me.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder when I was about to pass him. He gave me a slow smile that shouldn’t have made my stomach flutter. “I’ll have a talk with Juan. He’s having a hard time adjusting, but he shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  My eyes locked with his. I fought against the overwhelming awareness of the feel of his gloved hand. And my brain finally won.