Chapter 2

Hailey's POV

Liv's voice echoed in my room as I placed her on speaker while I put my clothes away. "I don't know what to do, Hails. He looked so sad."

"Hey, you already did what you needed to. You invited him out with all of us. I think it's a great way to introduce him to more people. Maybe he'll hit it off with someone." I called out, struggling to shove my clothes into my already bursting closet. I may have a bit of a shopping problem.

"I hoped maybe you two were going to hit it off, being my best friends and all."

"Liv, we may love you, but the guy is as dull as a rock. I tried to burst him out of his bubble, but he's harder than you were." I reminisced about when we first met and how quiet Liv had been. It didn't take too long or much effort to get her to be a Chatty Cathy with me. "I'll keep trying if you want me to."

"Yes, please!" I chuckled at how desperately she jumped at the suggestion.

"Alright, but don't blame me if he doesn't want to see me again after tonight. I'm going to be pushy and annoying as hell. I'll burst his damn bubble if it kills me."

"Thank you, Hails! I love you."

"Love you, too. See you tonight."

I collapsed onto my bed, gazing up at the ceiling, taking a moment to catch my breath before I cranked up the Gypsy Kings' "Volare" and began cleaning. There's nothing like some upbeat music to get you in the cleaning mood. My hips swayed to the fast rhythm as I tidied up my room. Once that was done, I moved on to the kitchen, which was a disaster after my failed attempt at cooking dinner the night before- never again. Perhaps a cooking class or two is in my future. As I finished cleaning up, the doorbell rang, catching me off guard. I didn't bother to pause my music, as my phone was across the room. Whoever was on the other side of the door was in for a cultural treat.

"Coming!" I yelled as they impatiently rang the bell again. I swear, some people could use a lesson in manners. They rang it once more, just as my hand landed on the doorknob. "Demonios, {Oh, hell}, didn't I say I was coming?" I answered the door, highly annoyed now, until I saw her Colgate smile. She rang it one more time to annoy me further. I was too excited to care, screaming and jumping up and down in the hall. "Christin, you're here!"

Before me stood my hilarious and utterly witty cousin, whom I hadn't seen in years. Her presence alone brought a burst of joy, and I couldn't help but notice how she appeared somehow younger than our last encounter. It could have been the deep burgundy bangs she had dyed, a striking contrast against her natural black, wavy, short hair. With an excited beam on her face, she stepped into my penthouse, and we immediately embraced in a warm, tight hug.

As we entered, the lively tunes of the Gipsy Kings filled the air. "Were you cleaning?" she asked, a knowing smile on her lips. She always had a knack for understanding me.

Overflowing with excitement, I bombarded her with a flurry of questions, unable to contain myself. "When did you get in? How long are you staying? Where are you staying?"

She patiently answered each question in order. "I arrived this morning, and I'll be here until I decide to move again. And I'm staying here with you, duh."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you're moving in?"

"Sure am! So, will you have me? I'll take charge of the cooking, unless, by some miracle, you've improved."

I shook my head, a sheepish grin spreading across my face. "Nope, still as bad. Maybe even worse. Teach me your ways." I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes, and she burst into laughter.

"Cooking lessons in exchange for rent? Sounds fair to me."

As we caught up on the events of the past few years, I helped Christin unpack. She hadn't brought much with her, but that wasn't an issue since I have a bit of a shopping problem.

"Oh, my gosh! You should come out with me tonight and meet all my friends," I suggested.

"I'll pass this time. The journey has left me quite exhausted, and I'm not quite up for meeting new people just yet."

I sighed, understanding that she had moved across the country from California, so I couldn't hold it against her.

"Fine, but you'll be meeting them soon!"

"You sure you want that? They might end up liking me better," she teased with a playful smile on her face.

She chuckled. "You may be pretty fabulous, but it's hard to outshine me. Thank you very much."

In a mischievous mood, I couldn't resist grabbing one of her shirts and tossing it at her face, starting an impromptu clothing war between us. Laughter erupted as we gleefully hurled garments back and forth, our aim becoming increasingly wild and erratic. Eventually, we found ourselves collapsed on the floor, tears of laughter streaming down our faces. After we regained our composure and tidied up, Tinita, my endearing nickname for her, headed to the kitchen to whip up a delicious dinner.

The mouthwatering aroma of her cooking filled the house, enveloping my senses in a delightful embrace. I couldn't help but marvel at her skills in the kitchen, recognizing her natural talent. It's ironic how her dream is to become a chef at one of my father's restaurants, while I struggled to conjure up even the simplest of meals. I wondered if Tinita could share some of her culinary magic with me. My mother, always nagging in Spanish, never missed an opportunity to remind me of my lack of kitchen skills, emphasizing the importance of learning it.

"¿Cómo puedes ser una Latina y no saber cómo cocinar, mija?" she would chide, her words laced with a mix of exasperation and playful teasing. Translation: How can you be a Latina woman and not know how to cook? She never let me forget it, just as she never missed a chance to remind me I hadn't found a boyfriend. But I wasn't in a rush to dive into a relationship. During my college years, my focus was on my studies, and now that I have graduated, my sights are set on launching my career as a fashion designer. Breaking into the industry in the bustling city of New York is no easy feat, given the fierce competition that surrounds me. Nevertheless, I held firm in my belief that when the time was right, God would place Mr. Right on my path.

"Stop worrying. He said he was coming, so he's coming," Lucas reassured Liv, sensing her anxiety as she scanned the area for Ian.

I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with how Lucas handled the whole Ian situation. Being the guy who entered the story late, there must be some insecurities there. Honestly, Ian and Liv's past sounds like the perfect setup for a romantic, drama-filled movie. But you know what? Lucas and Liv's love story is something special. It's a love so pure that it burns like a bright flame, visible to anyone who cares to look. The way they support and uplift each other is just... amazing.

"Yeah, but he's not usually late. What if there was some kind of accident?" Liv asked nervously, her mind racing with worry.

"Calm down, Liv. Despite our pasts, not everyone gets into horrible accidents on their way to have a good time," Leo interjected, trying to soothe our dear friend, who had a tendency to overthink.

"Look, there he is." I spotted Ian from a mile away, his tousled long blonde hair standing out in the crowd. He was politely trying to push his way through, but he wasn't making much progress. I let out a sigh. He's too sweet for this city. Determined not to wait forever, I made my way towards him, pushing through the crowd. Suddenly, someone intentionally grazed their hand against my bottom. I turned to confront the culprit, but I couldn't tell who it was. "Carajo. If I figure out which one of you did it, expect a 6-inch heel to dig into your groin!" I warned, my anger simmering just below the surface.

I strode purposefully towards Ian, but two imposing figures who refused to budge obstructed his path. Undeterred, I reached between them and firmly took hold of Ian's hands, which felt pleasantly warm and soft. The sensation of our fingers intertwining sent a slight tingle coursing through my skin. Despite the grumbling protests of the two burly men, I confidently led Ian away.

"You know, you've gotta grow a backbone if you're gonna survive in this city," I remarked, offering a playful challenge.

"I have a backbone," Ian replied defensively.

"Then use it. Push through the crowd without asking for permission or saying excuse me."

Taking my words to heart, Ian took the lead, pushing past people with more force this time. It was as if he had rescued me from the throngs of people, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as I realized his bubble of timidity was susceptible. Perhaps I could finally burst it by injecting him with a little liquid courage. As we approached the group, Ian let go of my hand, and I was surprised to find myself slightly disappointed by the loss of contact. Oh boy.

As we entered the club, my face lit up upon hearing one of my favorite songs, "Niña Bonita" by Chino & Nacho, playing in the background. It was Latin night, and it seemed like no one in our group had realized it yet as they looked around, unsure.

"Oh, no, you don't. We're here, we're staying, and we're dancing. Come on, Liv! It's my favorite song!" I exclaimed, not giving her a chance to reply as I eagerly pulled her away from her husband and onto the dance floor. I laughed as she looked at me, mortified.

"Come on, swing your hips, and let the music flow through your soul."

"I'm white, Hailey. My hips don't sway like that," she remarked, a hint of self-consciousness in her voice.

I couldn't help but laugh at her comment, placing my hands on her hips and swaying them for her. At first, she seemed stiff, but as we moved together, I could see her starting to loosen up. Our eyes met, filled with excitement and joy, as we got lost in the music. Closing my eyes, I let the rhythm take over, feeling it resonate deep within me. This was my kind of music.

When I opened my eyes again, I noticed Lucas wrapped around Liv as they danced together. They were undeniably adorable, but a twinge of sadness washed over me. I realized I couldn't have my best friend all to myself, even for a single song. Soon enough, Leo and Rachel joined in, and it was clear that something was going on between them. The way they stared at each other gave it away. Meanwhile, Ian stood awkwardly on the sidelines, so I made my way over to him, keeping my promise to Liv. I playfully tried to coax him onto the dance floor, but he wasn't in the mood to play along.

"Come on, you're no fun," I pouted, trying to entice him.

"I am a terrible dancer. I'll probably step on your feet more than anything," he replied, shaking his head and standing awkwardly.

The next song started at a faster pace than the last. I wasn't taking no for an answer, so I pulled him onto the dance floor behind me. He reluctantly followed, standing awkwardly as everyone danced around us. I rolled my eyes, feeling a bit annoyed that he wouldn't let loose. Taking both of his hands, I placed them on my hips, over my short red skirt. Gripping his arms, I popped my hips along with the rhythm. Ian followed along, but he kept his gaze fixed on his feet for most of it. I couldn't help but laugh, placing my hand under his chin and lifting it up, forcing him to look into my dark eyes.

"I'm up here, not down there," I teased, trying to redirect his attention.

"I don't want to accidentally hurt you," he admitted, his concern evident.

"You're doing just fine. Just let go, Ian. Feel the music. I swear, you and Liv are quite the pair," I said, shaking my head disapprovingly at their rigid antics. "Now come on, let loose. This is supposed to be fun!" I felt him gradually loosen up as the song continued, and when it changed again, he was really getting into it. I couldn't help but exclaim, "Ha, you're a natural, Ian. Are you sure you don't dance?"

A lopsided grin formed on the corner of his mouth, revealing that he knew how to dance just fine. I playfully hit his arm as he showed off his moves.

"I'm rusty. It's been a few years since I've danced salsa," he admitted, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Show me what you've got. I think you've been holding back on me," I challenged him, sensing his daring mood. His eyes lit up, and for a moment, I wondered if I had bitten off more than I could chew.