Alex propped himself against the metal railing where Willow had just stood. "Okay, let's get something straight," he said in Spanish."If you think I don't know you're after my girfriend, you're crazy. And if you try to put any sleazy moves on her while you're here, you're going to regret it." Seb's knapsack was at his feet. He took out a pack of cigarettes; tapped out the last one and lit it.Settling back against the door jamb, he gave Alex a considering, faintly humorous look. "Sleazy moves?" he repeated. "Don't worry, I don't do sleazy moves."
"Let me rephrase," said Alex coldly "Any moves, just keep your hands off her.
Querida, it's alright," he said. "No one has hurt me in years."
"Hey, you're supposed to be my brother," I said, trying to joke. "Brother's don't hold their sisters' hands or call them querida."
Seb smiled, his hazel eyes starting to dance. "Yes, they do," he said. "This happens all the time."
"Well I guess things are different in Mexico then," I said. "Because in America, no way. And I'm an American."
"But you're in Mexico now," he pointed out.
"Right. And you're saying here, boys holds hands with their sisters and call them sweetheart."
"Oh yes. We're very friendly, we Mexicans.
Stichwörter: willow seb la-weatherly querida
Hey, you've got the girl, I've got the picture. That's fair, right?
L.A. WeatherlySeite 1 von 1.
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