“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.”

“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.”

“A cell phone rings. I can feel the vibration through Brittany’s pants. “It’s hers,” I say.“Answer it,” Isa Instructs.I already feel like I’ve kidnapped the girl. Now I’m gonna answer her cell? Shit. Rolling her a bit, I feel for the bulge in her back pocket. “Contesta,” Isa whispers loudly, this time in Spanish.“I am,” I hiss, my fingers clumsy as I fumble for the phone.“I’ll do it,” Paco says, leaning over the seats and reaching toward Brittany’s ass.I whack his hand away. “Get your hands off her.”“Geez, man, I was just tryin’ to help.”My response is a glare.”

“A Mexican guy named Sam pushes Gary Frankel next to Isabel. "This guy can break your arm with one snap, asshole. Get out of my sight before I sic him on you," Sam says. Gary, who's wearing a coral shirt and white pants, growls to look tough. It doesn't work.”

“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.”

“Marry me, Kiara,” he blurts out in front of everyone.“Why?” she asks, challenging him.“Because I love you,” he says, walking up to her and bending down on one knee while he takes her hand in his, “and I want to go to sleep with you every night and wake up seein’ your face every mornin’, I want you to be the mother of my children, I want to fix cars with you and eat your crappy tofu tacos that you think are Mexican. I want to climb mountains with you and be challenged by you, I want to argue with you just so we can have crazy hot makeup sex. Marry me, because without you I’d be six feet under … and because I love your family like they’re my own … and because you’re my best friend and I want to grow old with you.” He starts tearing up, and it’s shocking because I’ve never seen him cry. “Marry me, Kiara Westford, because when I got shot the only thing I was thinkin’ about was comin’ back here and makin’ you my wife. Say yes, chica.”

“I let it all out--my mom's date,my dad's conversation,my confusion about it all.Caleb doesn't laugh,he doesn't pull away,he doesn't talk .. He just lets me be me.When I settle down,I lean back and witness the mess I've made on his shirt."I made ur shirt all gross," I say between sniffles."Forget the shirt.What's going on? I could.nt understand a word you mumbled into my chest." Now I'm half laughing and half crying.”