“I’m not going anywhere until you hear me out.”Oh, please no. Anything except having to listen to her lecture. I push the button that calls the nurse.“Can we help you, Alex?” a voice bellows through the speaker.“I’m bein’ tortured.”

“Alex and Carlos—the tag team from hell. They’re the last people I need shit from right now. If they decide to trail me, too, I’ll have an entire entourage.“I’m fine.”“Then sit up and talk to us.”“Okay, in that case I’m not fine. Go away.” I moan. “Unless you want me to puke all over you.”

“The reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, um..." "You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?" "Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before." "Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open. Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on.”

“Where's my cell phone?" I ask. "And please put a shirt on." He reaches down and grabs my phone off the floor. "Why?" "The reason I need my cell," I say as I take it from him, "is to call a cab and the reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, urn . . ." "You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?" "Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before." "Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open. Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on.”

“I like that girl more than I can remember likin’ anything in my life. I’m not about to give her up. I’ll start carin’ about what other people think when I’m six feet under.”

“Didn't you learn anything from my mistakes?" he asks.Shit, when Alex was in the Latino Blood back in Chicago I worshiped him. "You don't want to hear my answer to that.”

“You can’t keep her.”I know that. But I’m not ready to give her up just yet.”