Leo had avoided it on the rare occasions that he’d been back in Beaucoeur over the years. But tonight, after choking down food that tasted like sawdust, he’d needed some sweetness on his tongue, and this was the only destination he could think of.
Unfortunately, the hot fudge in his cup was overpowered by the long-ago memory of Faith’s mouth, cold from ice cream and sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted. The hot bolt of longing for those days was so intense that it took him a long moment to recognize that the sound he was hearing was his phone vibrating against the wood of the table.
He glanced down and heaved an affectionate sigh before bringing it to his ear.
“Hola, Mami.”
“Mijo! Are you in town? You didn’t call!”
“I am.” He pivoted on the splintery bench so he was sitting with his back against the table. Beaucoeur in June was warm but not too humid yet, and he sucked in a lungful of his hometown air, allowing himself to relax for the first time in forty-eight hours.
“Sorry. I was running late and had to go straight to the restaurant.”
“It’s okay. How was the flight? How was the dinner? When are you coming over?”
He set the ice cream bowl down next to him and stretched out his legs, seeking relief for muscles that were still twitchy from the cramped plane. Under ideal circumstances, flying from Manaus to São Paulo to Miami to Chicago to Beaucoeur was a full day, but when you added in countless flight delays thanks to a tropical storm and three—three!—mechanical issues, he’d been traveling for a little over two days by the time he made it to the country-club lobby.
“Dinner was good.” Dinner was awkward as hell. “I can’t wait to see everybody, but I need to get settled at my new place tonight.” And hopefully sleep for a full day before he rejoined the warm embrace of his family.
His mother clicked her tongue. “It’s silly for you to rent. You can stay with me, or one of your sisters would have room.”
A burst of applause punctuated her words. Like every Puerto Rican of her generation in Leo’s family, Luisa Morales was on the phone with the television blaring—a game show, based on the racket—while the radio was also on and pumping out music, which meant his father was likely listening as he puttered around the kitchen. Leo couldn’t have asked for a better, more loving childhood, but was it any wonder he’d escaped to the serenity of the rainforest the instant he was able to?
“I appreciate that, but work set me up. My boss gave me the keys tonight.” He didn’t have any details beyond the address and the fact that it was furnished and the rent was affordable, but it didn’t matter. Pretty much anything would feel luxurious compared to his old digs.
“The boss, how was he? Was he nice?”
His new boss was not nice. He’d spent the evening with prissy disapproval stamped all over his fleshy face while he lectured Leo about the dignity of his new position and eyeballed Leo’s untamed Boricua hair.
He’d already been anxious about the dinner—about taking the job in the first place even—and then every fucked-up step of his travel over the past few days had ended with him running so late that he hadn’t had a chance to clean up or change. Not that he’d had anything to changeinto, what with his luggage being lost somewhere between Brazil and Illinois. He should’ve just asked to push the dinner back, but he hadn’t realized until too late how close he’d be cutting it between his arrival and the dinner. Calculating fucking travel times had tripped him up again.
And ofcoursehe’d needed a jacket at that nightmare restaurant. He’d known that, just like he’d been painfully aware as he stood in the lobby that he looked exactly like what he was: a man who’d been digging holes in a jungle the day before he hopped a plane to start a whole new career that he wasn’t at all prepared for.
Just like he hadn’t been prepared forher.
Seeing Faith had knocked him sideways. Once he’d realized who the thick-bodied blonde in the lobby was, it had all hit him in a rush: the urge to kiss her, to take her someplace private where they could catch up on the past dozen years. He wanted to tell her about the career he’d chosen, the work he’d fallen in love with, the new job he was equal parts proud of and terrified about. And he wanted to hear everything that had happened to her since they’d last spoken.
Then, just as quickly, he’d rememberedwhythey’d stopped speaking. Her shock at discovering her broke, brown-skinned ex-boyfriend standing in a country-club lobby had helped.
“Mijo?” His mother’s voice pulled him back into the conversation. “Your boss?”
Right. She’d asked him a question. “My boss seems like he’ll be…”
He lifted his gaze, and every thought in his head evaporated at the sight of the phantom from his teenage years come to torment him. Had the strength of his memories conjured her somehow?
“Mami, tengo que colgar,” he said hastily, eyes not budging from the figure in front of him. “I love you. Hablamos mañana.”
He hung up the phone and stared. It wasn’t a phantom after all but the adult version of his high school fantasy, frozen in midstep and holding a twist cone. Faith looked different and the same after all this time. Familiar and foreign at once. This wasn’t the willowy high schooler he’d loved. This wasn’t even the meticulously coiffed country-club member he’d tried to cut down earlier tonight.
She was in flip-flops, and she’d unbuttoned her ugly pink jacket to reveal a tight black tank top underneath. She definitely didn’t have all those curves the last time he’d been in a position to examine them. In fact, she’d filled out everywhere since high school; in place of her angles, she was soft all over. Abundant.
And then there was her hair. God, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was the same platinum blond it had been when he’d spent hours tunneling his fingers through it, and it still fell long and straight past her shoulder blades. But now two bright blue streaks framed her face and reflected the color of her eyes.
Eyes that were sparking with fury.
“Oh perfect,” she spat out. “Just…ugh. Just scoot over.”
She stomped up to the table and glared until he shifted to give her room to sit next to him.Therewas the brash girl he remembered. If he had to guess, she was as embarrassed as he was to be caught visiting their old make-out spot, and just as she had in the past, she was covering her discomfort with attitude.
