“This was supposed to be a date,” he hissed. “But then she showed up with Bethani and the moms, and all my plans for the day went up in smoke.”
All three of his friends stared at him with a range of expressions from stunned—Tyler—to confused—Zach—to straight up uninterested—Chad.
“I feel like I’m missing something here,” Zach said. “Didn’t you guys go on some hella romantic sunset cruise last night? Shouldn’t you be shopping for rings and naming your children?”
Chad snorted, and Jack punched him in the arm. “It was hella romantic,” Jack said wistfully, then sobered. “Until it wasn’t.”
Quietly, he explained to them what had happened, and was greeted by a collective groan of embarrassment.
“Dude, no.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“No wonder she doesn’t want to be alone with you.”
“I don’t get it,” Jack said, pulling off his ball cap and scrubbing his hands through his hair. “Aren’t girls supposed to be into all the mushy-gushy feelings talk? How is it possible that I found the one girl who ran when I basically told her I wanted to give this thing a shot when we go home?”
“DeLuca…” Tyler sighed, Jack’s last name full of pity. “Did you ever stop to consider that maybe she’s not looking for a relationship? And despite the fact that your chemistry is palpable and you two look disgustingly good together, that’s not enough to translate into a ‘real world’ relationship?”
Jack pondered that. Tyler’s words combined with Jessica’s comments last night had him starting to think that, maybe, she was right. Vacationwasa bubble, and everything inside of it was heightened. These emotions he experienced for her could very well be the real deal, but they could just as easily be something fleeting, lasting only for this week and disappearing the moment they were back on U.S. soil.
“You might be right,” Jack said finally.
Before any of his friends could respond, his mom shouted his name from the end of the lobby, Tyler’s mom in tow.
Apparently, all ten of them were heading to the market.
For the early part of the day, Jack gave Jessica her space—though he couldn’t help but track her every move from the corner of his eye.
They’d wandered in and out of all the shops and stalls along Mercado 28, the moms loading themselves down with souvenirsand laughing about how they’d fit it all into their bags to take home.
“Maybe I’ll leave Jack here and use his suitcase for any overflow,” his mom said with a laugh.
“I mean…I’d be fine with that,” Jack said, grinning at her. “This place is paradise.”
“It really is,” Michelle said, stepping out onto the cobblestones and spreading her arms wide, the breeze blowing her blonde hair in a twister around her head.
The rest of the group filed out of the shop a moment later, right as Michelle’s gaze landed on a bar across the way.
“Let’s go do a tequila tasting!”
“Are you serious?” Jessica asked her mom, stepping close to Jack for the first time in hours.
“Why not?” Michelle asked, turning a wide grin, so like her daughter’s, on them all. “When in Mexico, right?”
Chad raised his hand. “I’m in!”
The rest of the group echoed Chad, and Jessica’s protestation was lost to majority rule. Jack gave her a small smile and grabbed her hand, tugging her across the street after everyone.
The little bar—if it could even be called that—was a tequila lover’s dream. The walls were lined with rich mahogany shelves that held endless bottles of tequila in all shapes, sizes, and colors. There was reposado and blanco, añejo and extra añejo, and cristalino. Jack wasn’t overly familiar with the differences, but he quickly learned that blanco was white, reposado was darker, how the different types are aged in different types of barrels for different lengths of time, and that cristalino was the boujee tequila commonly found in the VIP club scene.
After a brief explanation of how tequila was distilled, the man working set them up at a long table in the back and brought them each a flight of five shots—one of each type.
Before downing their first, Chad raised his over the center of the table, encouraging everyone else to follow suit.
“To Mexico!” he said, then slammed his glass onto the table before tossing it down his throat.
“To Mexico!” they shouted back and followed suit.
