What’s goin’ on?” I ask as I take a seat. “Obviously not this.” He tosses me my shirt from last night. “I found it on the floor of the den. It’s obvious there was some hanky-panky going on.” Okay, so he knows we fooled around. But at least he didn’t find Kiara’s bra on top of my shirt. “Yeah . . . things kinda got a little heated after you and Mrs. W. left the den last night,” I tell him.

I tried writing adult romances, but it just didn't fit my voice.

If you can't share with your friends, who can you share with?

I want to live life on my own terms. But I'm Mexican, so mi familia is always there to guide me in everything I do, whether I want them to or not. Well, "guide" is too weak a word. "Dictate" is more like it.

Consider me your candy stripper... I mean striper.

Want to get in trouble with me, Carlos?

You know about fixing cars, you're athletic, and you know when to shut up." "That last one isn't a skill." "Honey, trust me. It's a skill.