Dusk Until Dawn Read online

And going off of him without all the information made her trashy and impulsive. Fine to crush beers with and have a laugh, but not wifey material. She was a hot head, and truly a bitch when she put her mind to it. Maya was not the kind of woman who married into one of Miami’s royal families. She was the kind that got kicked to the curb for a debutante. Or the kind of broke a debutante’s nose in a fistfight.

  And would she have wanted Javi to choose her knowing that it would probably have ended with him cheating on her, like it had for Karrie? Would she ever have been able to let him go? Or would she have sat waiting at home while Javi did God knows what, with God knows who all over Miami? She sneered at that pathetic mental picture.

  Javi had saved her years ago by rejecting her love. If he’d accepted it, she would be nothing right now. A shell. Just like her mother. Thinking about her mother’s unhappiness ached.

  Silently, she said her last goodbye to Javi. She let her expression soften and she drank him in, more handsome than ever, even though he was a royal dick and probably a cheater. He stood there, as if he was waiting for her to say something else. Like this was a cheery fucking reunion.

  She turned to leave and his hand wrapped around her bicep to stop her. The rough skin of his fingers and palm lit sparks underneath her skin. He stepped close, the scent of vodka laced his breath mixed with some Javi-specific pheromone cocktail. “You’re not going to leave without a word. Not after you fucked up a $10,000 suit and told me to ‘spew shit on my mother.’”

  “Javi, I—” She had nothing. Nothing adequate to say that would wash her words away. She was used to the hit-and-run—lovers, apartments, jobs. Never stay in one place too long. Let no one in, and don’t get hurt.

  Touching Javi, who didn’t actually smell like pussy at all, really hurt. Him touching her let the full nightmare of seeing him again seep into her bones. The sting spread from where his fingers grazed her bare skin and wrapped around all the way into her heart and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe.

  “Let me go.” He might not have heard her whisper over the pounding hip hop, but he hesitated. His skin seared to hers, and she still felt that thing that scented the air whenever they were together. She didn’t know how to describe it, but the atmosphere shifted when he touched her. Like the air just before a lightning storm. Being close to him certainly shifted her personal humidity.

  Still he responded, his cigar-rough voice in her ear. “That’s what I promised you, didn’t I? I promised to let you go, and I did.”

  She nodded, afraid she would choke if she used her words. She hadn’t wanted him to let her go. No matter what she was telling herself now, she’d needed him to say the other thing. To choose her. It had been so long that she didn’t think it could hurt anymore, but it ached. Her skin felt scarred over, stretched thin. He could tear her apart again if she let him.

  She wasn’t going to let him.

  “Even though that’s what I promised. I don’t want to let you go right now. I shouldn’t have let you go ever.”

  She gasped. Before she could topple over or—worse—turn around and kiss him, she looked at his bare left hand and said, “Doesn’t look like you keep your promises anymore.”

  She pulled her arm away, half hoping he’d stop her from leaving. When he didn’t, she got away from him as fast as she could.

  Chapter 2

  Javi felt like his limbs were weighted during his basketball game with Cole the next day. And, even with Cole’s injured shoulder, his friend was faster than him on a good day. With zero sleep and a wicked hangover, Javi had almost fallen over when Cole posted up for his last shot.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  Javi rested his hands on his knees and thought he might throw up. He wasn’t sure if it was all the vodka or the shock of seeing Maya again that had fucked him this severely. He rubbed the collar of his T-shirt over his face and smelled the alcohol in his sweat. Definitely both.

  Javi wasn’t sure he should tell Cole that Maya was in town. The three of them had all been friends while Cole and Javi were at Wharton and Maya was getting her MFA. Cole had been “Team Maya.” Javi didn’t need Cole mad at him for anything else. Cole had just forgiven Javi for clocking him the face when he found out that Cole was dating Javi’s sister Alana, he didn’t want to further strain their barely patched up friendship.

  But he had to say it out loud, so it was real for him. Maya was in Miami. She was angry with him. And he still wanted her.

  “You remember Maya?”

  Cole guffawed. “Remember Maya Pascual? I don’t know anyone who’s ever met her havin’ forgotten her.” He swung his body around Javi and took a three-point shot. “I definitely remember the purple nurple you gave me when I told you that I was thinking about asking her out.”

  Javi remembered, too. He’d just bought a ring for Karrie. And Cole thought that meant that Javi didn’t have a claim on Maya anymore. When his friend had said he was going to ask Maya to dinner, Javi had wanted to tear Cole to pieces. Even now, hot embers of jealously flared to life in his gut when he thought about Maya with someone else. Someone who wasn’t him.

  “Why are we talking about the one girl you never banged? I’m sick enough of hearing about all the chicks you do bang.”

  Javi hit Cole in the chest with the ball. “Check, asshole.” Javi hadn’t been doing a lot of banging these days, but he didn’t bring that up. It was the mayonnaise in the tired, hungover, seeing-Maya-again sandwich he’d been trying to swallow since he woke up this morning. “She’s here. I saw her last night at LIV.”

  Cole stopped defending him, but Javi still missed a lay-up when he said, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” When Javi shook his head, Cole settled in for an interrogation. “So, you have no game today because you’re tired from finally doing it.”

  “No.” He scowled at his friend and nearly choked on the memory of the disappointed look on her face the night before. He’d be happy this morning if, after all these years, he’d gotten inside Maya for the first time last night.

  Cole laughed. “What happened between the two of you?”

  Javi would never forget what she’d said to him. “I’m in love with you, Javi. I hate her because I’m in love with you.”

  He was so angry when she said it because he’d talked to Karrie’s dad and bought a ring. Why did she have to wait until his engagement was a done deal until she said anything? The way she’d looked at him, filled with hope, had him close to throwing it all away.

  He’d promised to leave her alone, and he’d promised to tell no one what she’d said. He’d kept his promise, but it had been painful, and he knew Cole had questions. Seeing her again had him confused. And all the pain he’d felt giving up their friendship had woken up with a vengeance.

  Deep inside, he’d known how she felt. But sitting in the empty bar, after he’d helped her close up, he’d been shocked. Surprised she had the courage to say it, but he knew that he’d never have the balls to give up the life he’d carved out. He couldn’t have backed out for the heat between them—no matter how compelling she was.

  Of course, he’d been attracted to her, but he’d never acted on it because she was too much for him. The chemistry between them had always been volatile. He’d often caught himself looking at her mouth, wondering how it would feel against his. He’d had to tread carefully because he’d had a girlfriend, and his relationship with Karrie wasn’t demanding like a relationship with Maya would be. And he’d thought he wanted that. He’d thought he needed easy, but even easy had turned out to be hard.

  Even though, from the outside, it didn’t seem like he and Maya would belong together, she felt so right. She was trouble—twisty, complicated, temperamental. And he didn’t like to work that hard. But being with her—with the exception of last night—was always like slipping into the ocean at midday in the summer. Her intensity cooled and grounded him. And he’d wanted her, so badly that he’d never let himself be alone with her. N
ot after the night he’d almost leaned down and kissed her outside of the bar. He’d known, even back then, that touching her would change everything. She would have consumed him, and he would have let her. He hadn’t wanted that, so he’d gone with simple until it blew up in his face.

  Javi and Cole gave up the pretense of the game and sat on one of the bleachers. He felt like he was going to confession. Maybe he could tell the truth to his best friend. Maya certainly couldn’t get angrier at him.

  “She was in love with me, and I told her no.”

  “Holy shit, man. That’s it? I thought you two crossed the line and she kicked you out. Or you had a fight or something. What happened when she saw you last night?”

  “She doused me with vodka and cursed me out.”

  Cole laughed again, slapping his knee for good measure. If he didn’t shut up soon, he’d get another bruised nipple.

  “What did you do?”

  Javi had wanted to rip her little panties off and rut her into the banquette. In front of everyone. After all these years, he wanted to claim her. He wanted to punch anyone who looked at her wrong. Making her mad had set something loose inside him, a throb in his chest and need in his veins—a need to possess. “I let her go. I didn’t want to, but I promised.”

  When his wife had cheated on him, he’d felt nothing but embarrassment and regret. If he’d been with Maya, she’d have destroyed him by leaving. And that’s the essence of why he’d told her no and promised leave her alone. He was afraid that if he let himself have her, he would need her too much. And she wouldn’t want him forever. She would never want to be tied down. If he let Maya in and she broke his heart, he’d never recover. He hadn’t been ready for that kind of commitment back then. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it now. One failed marriage was enough.

  If he was smart, he’d stay away from Maya. He’d let her believe that he was a philandering dirt bag. But he’d never been smart when it came to women—especially when the woman was Maya.

  The pain in her eyes last night gutted him—she’d never give him another chance. She had too much pride for that. That’s one of the things he’d always admired about her. That, and her passion. But he wasn’t sure passion was enough to bridge the gaps between them.

  Cole sighed. “Did you even apologize?”

  “No.”

  “You are both stubborn as hell.” Cole shook his head.

  Cole was right. He normally was. If he and Maya were together, it would be a constant struggle for dominance, which shouldn’t make him hot, but it did.

  “We are. That’s why we would never work.” Javi wiped sweat off his brow with his T-shirt, wanting to hide from this conversation. “We’d kill each other, too. The sex would be fucking epic, but one or both of us may not make it out alive.”

  The thought of bending her over a table and biting at her juicy, little ass as a prize popped into his head. Immediately followed by an image of one of her high heels digging into his belly while he stared up her endless legs. A smile of victory on her face. Shit. It would consume him. A few seconds of thinking about her had his dick half hard.

  “That’s stupid. You two are made for each other. If you can’t see that, you don’t deserve her. But do both of you a fucking favor and apologize. Make it right so that she doesn’t have you hanging out in the back of her head for the rest of her life.”

  Javi hadn’t thought of it that way. Cole’s words shook the porn film out of his head and he responded. “I don’t know if I can make it right. She was so mad when she saw me. Maybe it’s better if I leave her alone.”

  Cole grunted as if in disagreement. “Not going after what you want isn’t going to work out.”

  Cole would know. He’d had to work hard to win the love of his life.

  “I don’t know, man. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “Figure it out, dickhead.” Cole shrugged. “Your dad making you go to that gallery opening tonight?”

  “Yeah, apparently all I can be trusted to do is glad-hand clients.” Javi was the master of the soft-sell—flirting, making the potential clients feel important and smart. That’s why he’d been out last night. Seen her again. Why he was so fucked in the head right now. “I’m now the face of the company.”

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “I got myself into it.” By falling apart after his divorce, he’d jeopardized the family business. He had to earn back trust, and Javi was okay with that.

  They got up and headed out of the gym.

  Even though Karrie had nicked his pride, he’d fallen off in his responsibilities when she left him. And now he had to work to redeem himself. Shit had gotten so bad that he’d almost ruined his friendship with Cole over him getting involved with his sister Alana. Cole had been a man-whore, just like him, but Javi hadn’t seen at first that his friend was gone over his little sister. Javi wanted to punch his friend in the face a lot less when he realized how happy Alana was with him.

  They both stopped next to their vehicles. “Are you and Alana coming tonight?”

  “Nah, we got plans.” Cole smiled—a grin that said Javi didn’t want to know what those plans entailed.

  Javi shuddered. “Shut the fuck up.”

  * * * *

  Thank God that her brother’s boyfriend managed the bar at LIV—assaulting a VIP with a $300 bottle of vodka would have gotten her fired otherwise. But, just in case Felix’s boyfriend reduced her hours, she’d taken a catering job for her brother’s company over a night of painting.

  Surrounded by some other artist’s work, passing out canapés and champagne instead of working on her art was enough punishment. But, the room was full of people who kept discreetly heading over to the desk and passing over their credit cards. A thriving art scene was good for her.

  They also liked to drink the free bubbly. She headed to the backroom where Felix was setting up trays. “Miami is thirsty, hermanito.”

  Her little brother managed not to look frantic as he put some yummy puff pastry things out for one of the other servers. Without missing a beat, he pointed to the corner, where he had another case of sparkling wine chilling. “Pour.”

  She’d already been on her way to do that. They’d always had the silent communication thing down, and had worked well together; they’d had to in order to avoid getting their asses kicked by their father and taking care of their mother.

  Maya opened one of the bottles with a quiet pop and Felix winked at her. “While you’re pouring, you can tell me about why Rick was so pissed when he got home last night.”

  She growled, low in her throat. Felix didn’t have a sick server; he wanted a captive audience, an end-run around her reticence about sharing touchy-feely thoughts. “I ran into Javi Hernandez jamming his boner in the general vicinity of two underwear models, and he ran into a bottle of very expensive booze. It couldn’t be helped.”

  Felix was used to her impulsive behavior. After all, he had the same temper and the same issues tamping it down. He raised one brow. “How did he look?”

  “Fucking edible.” So irritating how Javi could still make her pulse zip out of control with a smirk. After ten years, therapy she could ill afford, and a slew of men she’d invited to her bed in the vain hope that one of them could make her forget about Javier Hernandez, she still wasn’t over him.

  Instead, every time one of them touched her, she would look at his hand and wish it had the same calluses that Javi’s had. Every time he’d touched her bare arm—every friendly gesture—had made her close her eyes and savor the feel of him. She’d memorized his touch and nothing else will do.

  “Not surprising. Rich bastard.”

  “He’s not like that. He never looked down on me.”

  Felix drew an obscene symbol in the air. “Bullshit. All Cubans look down on Puerto Ricans. And he turned you down, too. Motherfucker would have to be crazy.”

  “He wasn’t crazy. I’m not what his parents expected him to marry.” Ma
ya knew she was too brash, colorful, and too honest to live in the world Javi inhabited. Sure, she could visit as one of the hired help, but she would never really belong. “It hurt back then. Dammit, it hurts now. But I kind of get it.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself, Boo.” Felix popped a canapé in her mouth, and she chewed. Probably so she couldn’t deny it. “You’re beautiful, and bright, and you fucking loved that fool. He threw that away. That was his mistake. It was never your mistake to be you.”

  Hearing him say all that nice stuff about her made her tear up. She didn’t say anything, but she smiled at her brother as she filled the last glass on her tray and headed for the main room. She passed one of the other servers on the way out and smiled, thankful for the rescue.

  True, even though they were both Latino, they came from very different backgrounds. But that wasn’t why Javi looked at her and found her wanting. It was the tattoos, the swearing, and the sheer Spanish Harlem-ness of the way she carried herself. The fact that she was Puerto Rican and he was Cuban wasn’t the big deal; the fact that her mother had been a conman’s mistress for twenty years ruined everything. He probably wanted a nice, nuclear family like he’d grown up in. The two of them together would have been fireworks. Maybe he hadn’t wanted fireworks.

  She walked around the edge of the gallery, which had filled up even more, smiling and offering champagne to people who didn’t even see her. She might wear a riot of color all over her skin, but she could be wallpaper for all the attention they paid to her.

  A guy dropped a dirty napkin on her full tray of appetizers. She shot him a dirty look behind his back. She turned around to get rid of the sullied canapés when she smelled him. He didn’t wear cologne, but she’d imprinted on the smell as well as everything else about him. It perked up all her senses, like she was a sensing a dangerous predator.

  Before she could turn and run for the back entrance, they locked eyes. He stalked over to her, and she told her legs to move away. But, when her muscles didn’t obey her, she surrendered and took a good long look at him.