We're in the library and I'm sitting in one of two stuffed chairs staring at a wall of books. Gomez hands me a shot glass after filling two.
"Tequila, drink it."
I down the glass without a second thought and he downs his. There's no lime to disguise the taste or help the burn and I can't stop from doing the funny twist thing with my mouth. He ignores this, takes the glass out of my fingers, and refills both. We drink another shot together.
"You've made a real f*****g mess, pequeña."
My head feels decidedly fuzzy. "I swear if you're calling me 'little sister,' I'll bite you again."
A chuckle escapes him. "It means 'little one.' You f*****g fight like a wildcat, though."
"What good did it do me? I'm still here," I pout. He refills my glass, we drink, and he walks over to the house phon
