Arnold looks between us with an unreadable expression before he nods and heads back in the direction he came.
Janelle waits until he turns the corner to let the corners of her mouth tip up again. “Guess you got me for a little bit longer then.”
Exactly how I want it.
We head to the concierge desk to pick up two bikes and then make our way to town.
The streets of Tulum are paved with palm trees and fairy lights. The cars are bumper to bumper so I’m glad we opted for bikes instead of driving. We pass by several storefronts selling things from oranges to clothes to scooters.
Once we get to an empty stretch of sidewalk, I pick up the pace to ride alongside Janelle instead of behind her.
She reaches her left hand out to me, keeping a tight grip on the handlebar with her right. I match her and take her hand in mine. We ride in silence with our hands intertwined for three blocks before we come up on a mother and son walking down the street and need to separate.
I get her to pull over with me because I need to grab my phone and look up the place Arnold sent me. We stop at a stand selling guava and some other fruit.
“I think my legs are about to fall off,” Janelle says, bending over at the waist and grabbing her knees.
“J, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Ifsomeonehadn’t tried to kill me earlier with fucking Bulgarian split squats, I’d be a lot better.”
“Ah, we back to that, huh?” I drop to a squat, rubbing my hands along her legs.
Her eyes drift close. “We never left that. Who the hell voluntarily does Bulgarian split squats?”
I shrug and stand to my full height, hovering over her. “Me?”
“I’m never working out with you again.”
“You gonna act like you didn’t like our workout?”
She peers up at me through her curvy lashes. Her lips fall open slightly. “I mean, I didn’t say all of it.”
Not wanting to resist anymore, I lean down and kiss her.
“Disculpe,” one of the men working at the fruit stand interrupts. Janelle tucks her head against my chest in embarrassment before looking at him. “Fruta?” he asks.
“Oh, um, well.”She walks over to the line of fruit, observing the guava but taking an interest in the fruit next to it. “Um. Oh shit, how do you say it? Qué es eso?” she asks, pointing to the fruit.
He tells her it’s a tuna fruit and rather than trying to explain further he simply grabs a pair of gloves and one of the fruits. He grabs a knife from his cart and slices the ends off the fruit then carefully peels back the skin. He slices a piece and hands it to her and she eats it in one bite.
Moaning around it, she looks at me with wide eyes. “This is so good!”
The man behind the cart looks pleased and offers her another piece which she shares with me.
“Quieres comprar uno?”
“Should we get some?”
“Is that what you want?”
She wrinkles her nose and looks carefully at the fruit. “Yeah, it is.”
“Then it’s yours.”
She tilts her head from side to side and then bows her head. When she pulls her backpack around to her front and pulls out her wallet, I put my hand on her wrist. “Janelle. Don’t insult me.”
“I can pay for some fruit, Rome.”
