“No, we didn’t. And believe me, we tried. You leaned into the curve, your gloved fingers caressing the concrete, and my idiot buddy was so impressed, he tried the same thing but scraped up his fingers.”
“Let me guess, he wasn’t wearing a glove.”
“Nope, he wasn’t, but that’s just Emilio for ya. He’s the biggest idiot of us all. Don’t worry, you’ll never meet that guy.”
He finally picks up his burger, diving into it with a relaxed sense of ease as if everything has been resolved. It’s easy to see how good he would be for me. He doesn’t take things too seriously and quickly lets things drop or pass, not wanting to dwell on them.
In contrast, I agonize over and scrutinize every little thing. He’s right that this is not only about trust but also about losing control over things beyond my reach. He has friends, and they share in each other’s lives. If I accept him, then I must accept that as well.
“They were pretty impressed with you, even Dominic. And nothing impresses that guy.”
He grabs the ketchup, squirts a massive glob onto his plate, and drags some french fries through.
“Well, that and you’re Doctor Rossi’s daughter. He’s into chemistry and science, so I’m sure he’d love to meet your dad sometime.”
This conversation veers off course, yet that seems to be how it is with him and me. Concerns and worries fall by the wayside when we are together.
I watch him, the tension in my chest warring with the flicker of hope his words spark. Trust doesn’t come easy, not after what’s happened, but something in his eyes pulls at me and makes me want to believe that maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out.
“So, what do you say, Iz? Can we get past this and go back to being complicated?”
His hand moves toward mine, an invitation and an olive branch.
“Are you really graduating after my class?”
“Things got kind of messed up with my accident, but yeah, then onto grad school, but here in town. So you’re not getting rid of me. You’ll just have me exclusively in run-down roadside dives until December, and then we’re free to be together anywhere in public if that’s what you’re getting at.”
I wasn’t.
I appreciate his willingness to keep us quiet rather than a secret since a couple of other people already know. My worries, which tried to rally once more, are finally quiet in my head.
“Okay.”
He stares at me, leaning in and tilting his ear toward me to point out how lowly I said it.
“You’ve got to do better than that, especially after the grilling you’ve given me. Not to mention making me sweat it out for days.”
My mouth opens to defend how many tears I shed over him, but then he winks.
“I’m kidding. If you say okay, then we’re okay.”
He smacks the back of his hand on the table, insisting on mine, and I oblige. When our palms connect, the heat from his runs up my arm and through my body.
“That’s my girl. Now Iz, promise me after finishing this rank food, we will celebrate properly by letting me fuck you across your new bike.”
I blink at him in disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
He squeezes my hand and releases it. A smug grin spreads across his face.
“My new bike? What are you talking about?”
He shifts from his side of the booth to mine, draping his arm along the back, our bodies pressed together.
“It’s not the pink you like, but we can wrap it if you want. I do like the white and red, though, so maybe a new color for our new beginning? I was going to get you a new helmet, but I couldn’t find one with the ponytail, and again, what color?”
He shrugs as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me.
