An Extra Pump of Sugar

Chapter 26

After the show, Theo did everything in his power to lift my spirits—which meant buying me two cocktails on top of the spiked thermos we'd shared during the event.

Slow and uncoordinated, we'd stumbled our way to our hotel room, giggling our way up the elevator and ignoring Jay's criticisms about our embarrassing alcohol tolerance. Then, in our massively incapacitated state, we decided to venture to the rooftop pool to wind down.

Given that most of the tourists were still living up their spring break in the club, we figured we'd seize the opportunity for some alone time. That is, if my drunken ass could get my bikini top on. The outfit offered little coverage and a shit-ton of aesthetic straps, and I finally accepted that sexy clothing rarely doubled as pragmatic.

Or comfortable, for that matter. 

I turned to Theo with a pouted lip, dropping my mangled elbows in defeat. "I think I need some help."

He laughed and crossed the bedroom to release me from my straitjacket of a swimsuit. "You're a mess."

"A hot mess."

"Well, that goes without saying."

Beyond our door, I heard Jay speaking in a low voice. He mentioned something about his diagnosis and his choice to stop treatment, and I blinked up at Theo as he rearranged the swimsuit over my breasts. "Who's he talking to?"

"Ian."

My eyes widened, and as soon as Theo freed my arms, I moved closer to the door, straining to hear the private conversation.

"...not asking you to leave your job and take care of me," Jay was saying, "but...I thought you ought to know. I guess...give you a chance to say goodbye."

I stared at the wall, then at Theo—perplexed and amazed by my uncle's change of heart. "Was that you?"

The barista sat down on the edge of our bed. "I jus' talked about how much it meant to me...to be there for my mom's final moments," he explained, his voice laden with the liquid depressant. "I felt like I got to help her a little...actually feel useful, y'know? And those last few weeks with her were special. They meant a lot." His gaze rose from the carpet. "Also...I told him if he called his son, I'd pay for a stripper."

My eyes felt too heavy to roll, so I tossed him a flat look. "You're serious?"

He shrugged. "He's on his way out. He deserves to see some ass."

"I mean, I guess. Do you plan to partake?"

His smile widened, and I hated how transparent I was in this state. Drunk me was incapable of keeping her emotions in check—including unwarranted jealousy. "Why would I?" he asked, and his eyes roamed over my figure and the small strips of fabric concealing my privates. "I've got the hottest stripper in town, and she's all mine."

I made a face.

"What? It's true."

"You're drunk, Theo."

"Two things can be true at once..."

His reply pulled a reluctant grin out of me, and I threw a large t-shirt over my bikini before walking out the door.

Jay was sprawled out on the suite's couch with a popcorn bag in his lap and a fresh joint on the coffee table. My cousin's face lit up his phone screen, and the two Rivas boys smiled through their tears, exploring the heavy medical decision together—free of judgement.

I gave Jay a thumbs up, and he huffed, waving me and my pride away. But he seemed happy with his decision to expand his support group, despite the drama that unfolded at my mom's, and it soothed the lingering ache in my chest.