The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

15. Gabriel

gabriel

. . .

I’m stretched out on the couch, my phone in one hand, half-listening to Julio and Deacon argue about some soccer game they’re rewatching. The faint hum of the TV mixes with their voices, a background noise I’ve gotten too used to. Felix is at his parents’ visiting his sister. Atticus had some study group thing, so it’s just the three of us.

Should be a pretty chill night. But I’m restless.

Scratch that—I’m agitated.

I haven’t had a minute alone with Cecilia all week, and it’s driving me out of my damn mind. Every time we get together, we’ve got an audience. My roommates are home, or it’s her parents, hovering like she’s going to break at any second.

I need to figure out a way to maneuver some alone time with my girl.

My phone buzzes, yanking me out of my thoughts.

Cecilia: Hey, Adriana and I were thinking of doing a double date Tuesday night. Is that okay?

A double date? I swipe my thumb over the screen, reading the message twice. I was hoping for some one-on-one time. Just us. Instead, I get to share her. Again. This time with Adriana and whoever’s dumb enough to think he can keep up with her.

I drag a hand over my face, the slightest chuckle slipping out before I can stop it.

“What’s up?” Julio asks, his voice cutting through Deacon’s ongoing commentary on the screen. He’s leaning back, arms crossed, the black ink of the rosary on his right hand standing out against his tan skin. I’ve always found it ironic—he’s got that cross and beads tattooed, but I’ve never seen him step foot inside a church.

“Just got a text from Cecilia,” I mutter, tossing my phone onto the coffee table. It clatters against the wood, and the sound pulls Julio’s eyes away from the screen for the first time since they put the game on. “She’s setting up a double date with Adriana and some guy.”

Julio’s posture shifts, subtle but telling. His shoulders stiffen, his jaw ticking like he’s just bit into something sour.

“Adriana’s going on a date?”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Tuesday.”

“Who’s it with?” he asks, trying for casual, but his tone? It’s anything but. The edge in his voice is sharp, and the way he grips the couch cushion has me intrigued.

“I don’t know.” I sit up a little straighter, smirking. “You jealous or something?”

Julio shrugs, but his eyes flick toward my phone like he’s thinking about snatching it from the table. “No. Just ... curious.”

Curious, my ass.

I lean forward, elbows resting on my knees, my grin spreading. “Uh-huh. Sure. You’ve got no reason to be wound up, right? You and Adriana never dated or anything.” I pause for effect. “It’s not like there’s any unresolved feelings there.”

“Drop it, Gabe.”

“Nah, I think I’m onto something.” I can’t resist poking the bear. “You and Adriana? You’ve always had that weird vibe going on. It’s been years, but some things never change.”

Julio glares, jaw tight, the muscles there working overtime. He moves to stand, but his knee knocks into the coffee table, and the sound echoes louder than I expected.

“There’s no vibe,” he snaps, but the way he fumbles over the words tells me otherwise.

“There’s totally a vibe,” I press, leaning in, my grin widening. Deacon’s snickering from his side of the couch, clearly enjoying the show. “Come on, man. You’ve been acting weird about her for months. Ever since Cecilia brought her back into the fold.”

Julio pushes to his feet, his movements jerky, almost panicked. “It’s nothing.” His voice wavers, though. He rubs the back of his neck, his fingers brushing over the ink of the loteria cards there. The tattooed cards and roses stretch up his throat, dark and bold, as much a part of him as his obvious irritation is right now. “And I’m not jealous, alright? Just—whatever. My bad for being concerned. She was your friend before, too. We don’t know who this guy is. What if he’s just some asshole looking to take advantage of her?”

I snicker, unable to help myself. “Man, you’re really in your feelings. Maybe you should just tell Adriana you’re interested.”

Julio spins on me, dark eyes flashing. There’s heat behind that look, something more than just annoyance. “Shut up, Gabe.”

I throw my hands up in mock surrender. “Just sayin’. It’s not that deep.”

Julio doesn’t respond. He storms out of the room, footsteps heavy against the hardwood, his presence gone in a matter of seconds. The door slams behind him, leaving an odd tension in the air.

Deacon leans back, a smirk still tugging at his lips. “He’s totally into her, right?”

“One hundred percent,” I agree, shaking my head. I grab my phone from the table, unlocking it with a swipe of my thumb. “And that fucker is definitely jealous.”

Deacon chuckles. It’s low, but it carries through the room, mixing with the static from the soccer game playing in the background. “What’s the story there?”

“It’s his to tell whenever he pulls his head out of his ass.” I scroll through my texts, opening up the message from Cecilia again.

Me: Who’s the guy? Anyone I know?

Her response is immediate, like she’s been waiting for me to ask.

Cecilia: Kenji Yamada. Hockey player at PacNorth.

The name doesn’t ring a bell. Not that it would. Hockey’s a different world, and I’ve got enough guys on the soccer team to keep me busy without branching out.

Me: K.

Cecilia: So you’re in?

Me: Sure. Sounds fun.

Since I’m not a complete asshole, I open a new chat and type out another message, this one for Julio.

Me: Kenji Yamada. Hockey. You’re welcome.

I watch as the message changes colors, letting me know he read it. No response, though. Figures.

I shrug, tossing my phone back on the table. Guess he can’t say I never did him any favors.