Birdy (Upper Echelon Duet Book 1)

I’m surprised she made it out of her clothes and into that oversized white T-shirt she’s sporting. My lil’ sis parties hard—harder than I did in my day.
"He started it," I tell her, sipping my coffee as she ambles between us to the cupboard.
"I don't really care who started it. Just shut the fuck up, and we’re good. I'm surprised you didn't wake Ma up yet."
"She's not here," I inform, noting how Tommy takes her presence as his opportunity to escape. "It's Sunday…you know where she is."
Noely puckers her lips and nods enthusiastically as she goes about preparing her coffee. "Oh, she for sure won't miss la misa nowadays."
La misa—church.
My brow arches. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Snickering, she pulls out a spoon from the drawer in front of her. "You remember Mr. Delgado? El Colombianito chiquito?” The little Colombian man.
"Yeahhh..." I drawl.
She is not about to say what I think she is...
My sister tips her head again as if reading my mind and takes her first sip. "Well, I think she has a crush on him. You should see how red she gets when I bring him up. It’s so cute."
My mom...and Vicente? She has a crush on him? "What the fuck! Ew! Since when?"
Noely laughs, sending her eyes for a spin. "She's not dead, Benni. She's allowed to be happy again. It hasn’t been too long anyway, maybe a few weeks. Nothing serious yet."
A few weeks? Wow... I mean, I agree that she’s allowed to be happy—and she should be—but, why am I just finding out about this? "That’s so..."
"Weird?” she finishes for me, humming in agreement. “I know. She hadn’t looked at a single man after Dad, and then, all of a sudden, boom. She really does seem happy, though, and it might be a good way for her to stop worrying about you.”
My face melts in pure dismay, head falling to one side. "Oh my God, you too?"
"Sorry, hermana...” she pats my shoulder on her way around me, “but he’s got a point. It's exhausting listening to her bitch."
"Do you guys realize that it could literally be so much worse?” Setting my mug down, I follow her out of the kitchen. “Like, I could actually be a crackhead or a whore on the corner. I know what I'm doing, bringing home that money for all of…"
The way she stops dead in her tracks stalls the words on the tip of my tongue. Her brown eyes, ones far kinder than my brother’s, meet me from over her shoulder. "Not everything is about the money, Benita…remember that. He only gets on you about this shit ‘cause he loves you and doesn’t wanna see you trapped in a cage. None of us do."
And then she’s gone.
I stand there staring at the ghost of her form, her words playing on repeat. I know my brother loves me. Hell, I love him fiercely, too, but the righteous big brother act drives me up the wall when he hasn’t made—and still doesn’t make—all the right decisions. The only difference between him and me is he’s never gotten caught.
Trudging back into the kitchen, I swipe my mug off the counter and down what’s left. It’s cold, but I don't have time to warm it up. It’s almost eleven, and I still need to make the drive out to the port.
I still need to come to a final decision, too.
The thought vibrates my throat with a frustrated groan, and as I’m setting out to wash my mug, I see another one appear in the sink and feel soft lips press to my cheek.
Tommy.
“No seas cabeza dura.” Don’t be hardheaded. “I’m just trying to save you, Benni Bear before it’s too late.”
“I don’t need to be saved,” I mutter, “but I love you, too, Tommy.”

♫ Bad Things - MGK & Camila Cabello
Ten minutes later, I’m on the road, braving the busy Sunday streets rather than hopping on the highway. A bad idea on my part, that’s for sure. I shouldn’t have gone this way. It’s taking longer than necessary to get to my destination, but I needed these red lights, needed the time to finally dissect and pick apart my current situation—layer by layer—and come to a decision.
Because this is it.
Ángel’s leaving in just a few hours’ time, and he wants an answer.
At this point, my biggest fear isn’t even caving against rationality and taking the risk—it’s how he’ll respond if I don’t give him the answer he wants to hear. He could choose to end this entirely, and while I truly don’t think that we’re ready to jump into something more just yet, the thought of losing him altogether makes my insides hurt.
Because you want him, that little voice in my head whispers.
I do. I know I do, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I probably shouldn’t. It also doesn’t negate the fact that he could prove both my mom and all of my reservations wrong by turning out to be everything I want.
Everything I need.
I guess that’s how taking risks work, right? It’s a gamble either way.
The sunny Miami scenery blurs past me as I make my way closer and closer to the port, catching more of the green lights than not. All the while, I weigh out my options, give myself a mental list of pros and cons to consider. The problem? There’s plenty in both columns, evenly balancing out the proverbial scale. With each mile, I grow more and more frustrated—more anxious. A resolution just seems improbable, and yet, half a mile away from the warehouse, it finally hits me.
Middle ground.
Compromise.
A happy medium without tipping said scale.
And I’ve got just the thing...I think. The minute I park in my usual spot, I’m yanking my phone from my purse and dialing Ángel’s number. Whether or not he can meet me before he leaves will determine when I’m gonna lay it on him.
He answers after only the third ring.
“Mami, you okay?” The smooth timbre of his voice assaults me