But like she’d said—they’d known each other for seven years. Anissa should know by now that Miri didnotget her freak on. Not now. And certainly not in the time they’d been friends.
“Ah, yes, because you know me. So much freaking happening.”
“Gah!” Anissa said, excitedly yanking on Miri’s arm. “It’s about time! My girl’s finally gonna pop her cherry.”
“I’m not a virgin, Anissa,” Miri said, tipping her head down and folding her arms.
Anissa pursed her lips and raised her brow. “Could have fooled me.”
Miri would have protested had Anissa not already been well aware that Miri suffered from a chronic case of no-date-itis.
“So when did you have time to meet this mystery man?” Anissa continued. “Didn’t you just get here this afternoon?”
“I met him at the airport.”
Simple. Truthful. That’s all she needed to say.
“And he ended up in Manacapuru, too?” Anissa cocked her head to the side.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter, because clearly he’s not going to—” Movement caught her attention in the mirror behind the bar. Rafa. “You came,” she said into the reflection and not to Rafa walking up behind her.
“So did you.” He pulled out the stool to the other side of her, opposite Anissa, whose lips pulled in a tight line, clearlydyingto say something, and he motioned for the bartender as Miri’s heart rate increased. She stared at his strong profile, accentuated by the soft hue of the red lights overhead. Thank God for this lighting and its ability to mask her blushing, because seeing him up close again sent a fire roaring over her skin.Especiallywith the cat-ate-the-canary look Anissa was tossing her way.
Anissa shifted her eyes back and forth between the two of them, anticipating Miri’s acknowledgment thathewas the one she was waiting for. Thankfully, their seven-year friendship also afforded them the ability to speak with eyebrows only, and Miri used hers to signal,yes, now please get the hell out of here.
The bartender came over with Anissa’s order to go, then turned to Rafa.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, gesturing toward Miri. The bartender gave a quick nod, then walked away to prepare the drink.
“AndI’lltake this as my cue to leave. Have fun, you two,” Anissa said, barely able to keep that goofy-ass grin off her face.
Just as Anissa turned away, Miri addressed her one last time by eyebrows—I’m going to kill you.
Anissa simply blew her a kiss, then whisked off toward the hotel lobby. Leaving Miri and Rafa in awkward silence.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Miri said once Anissa had gone.
“And I half expected you to be on a plane back to the States right now,” Rafa responded.
She winced.
“Can we not talk about that?” she asked.
“You mean not now, or never?”
“Give me a few minutes at least.”
The bartender slid a drink in front of Rafa and he picked itup, raising it to Miri. “All right. Shall we drink to something, then?”
She picked up her glass. “To fanny packers anonymous.”
He wryly chuckled. “To fanny packers anonymous.”
They toasted and took sips in unison. Awkward silence then settled between them. So many questions swirled through her head. Questions about who he was. Questions about whoshewas, as if he held the answers. Questions about what they were doing there. In the bar, that was. On a…date?
“I take it you’re not actually a backpack consultant?” He broke the ice with a smile, instantly calming Miri’s nerves.
Miri laughed and ducked her head. “Oh jeez, was that a ridiculous response or what?”
