“Well, yeah. If you were any younger, I would’ve pitched myself straight off the Brooklyn Bridge for being a total creep.”
“How old are you? You can’t bethatmuch older than me.”
“I’m thirty-two.” He closed his eye, and she didn’t need to be able to see it to know he’d scrunched his face up in shame.
“I think eight years is fine, Theo. I’ll only give you a little bit of grief for being an old man. It explains why you think Humphrey Bogart had such good game, though: turns out he’s your contemporary.”
He groaned and she continued to needle him for a few minutes, but he was saved additional teasing by the door bursting open again and Tío descending the truck’s steps, carrying a heavy paper bag and two drinks nestled into a cardboard carrier. Theo pulled out his wallet when the older man approached, but he only laughed and shook his head.
“Nah, Teds, put that shit away. Your money’s no good here. It’s on the house.”
“Thanks. And tell Ricky I said hi.”
Tío motioned over his shoulder. “He’s too busy stressing at the plancha to come out right now, but swing by when it’s slow and he’ll want you to test the new recipes.” Audrey peered around him and spied a tall, lanky blond man frantically slinging steaming tacos on the grill back in the truck. He did, in fact, look fairly stressed, butshe could hardly blame him—the line on the other side of the truck waslong.
Tío handed them the food and drinks before fist-bumping Theo again. “Ahí las ves, eh? Don’t be a stranger.”
“Yeah, definitely. Catch you later, Tío.”
Theo waved and led Audrey away from the food truck, turning the corner onto a quieter neighboring street. There was a little alcove behind one of the restaurants with an empty picnic table and benches tucked into it, and he sat down and began spreading the food out on the table.
“This is where the restaurant employees eat sometimes,” he explained as he removed what seemed like box after box of food. “The owner is a frequent patron of the food truck himself, so he’s cool with it. Jesus, Tío went nuts tonight, didn’t he?” he muttered to himself as he sorted through all the boxes. “Did he give us the whole menu? He must’ve raided some already cooked orders to get us all this so quick.”
“How do you know him?”
Theo opened one of the boxes to check inside and slid it over to her. “He’s Diego’s uncle—I grew up with him. And I also did branding work for him and his partner awhile back when they first launched the truck. They’ve since been featured in a whole helluva lot of magazines and blogs and food write-ups for the city, so my secret spot got outed, but they still like to feed me from time to time.” He pointed at the box. “Try those first.”
For the second time that night, he unhooked his mask and this time removed it completely, tucking it into his jeans pocket before greedily turning to a box of his own. The lighting behind the restaurant was dim enough to obscure his face, partially bathing him and his scar in shadow. But Audrey was just glad he felt this comfortable around her after today. They tapped their plastic margarita cups together and dug in.
They were the best tacos she’d ever had.
Every bit of that food was incredible.
They stuffed themselves on birria tacos and flautas, chips and salsas, elotes and quesadillas. Tío had also included some flan for dessert, and despite the fact that Theo inhaled enough food to feed four Audreys (she knew it, he’d beenstarving, popcorn aside), neither of them even managed to touch the tortas. When they were finally defeated, he packed up the rest of the food and tucked the leftovers and her bouquet neatly back into the bag, tossing their trash in a nearby bin before replacing his mask and taking her hand in his. She was so full, she was suddenly having trouble keeping her eyes open.
“Food coma, huh?” Theo snorted. He must’ve noticed her sway on her feet when she tried to get up.
“Oh my god, I’m going to sleep for three days,” she moaned. “Just roll me down the subway stairs. I’ll tumble onto a train headed home eventually.”
“I could never. I’d rather carry you home if I needed to.” He paused and considered her for a moment before reaching up and untying the scarf from around his neck. “And it’s getting chilly.” He wrapped it back around her, looping the ends through and tucking it carefully around her neck to lend her maximum warmth. “Let’s get you home.”
Her scarf still radiated his heat, and Audrey closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It smelled like him too, warm and clean, spiced and woodsy, like a sun-kissed pine forest in autumn. She could burrow into that scent and never leave. The urge to bathe in it was overwhelming.
“All right.”
They made their way to the train and rode back to Brooklyn. Theo wouldn’t hear of her walking home alone, despite the fact that she did it nearly every day herself and had done it even later than thisplenty of times. He walked her all the way up to her stoop and shifted awkwardly on his feet while she searched her bag for her keys.
“Theo, that was—”
“That was the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he blurted at the same time.
“Yeah.” Audrey beamed up at him. “It was for me too.” She found her keys and wound them between her fingers, trying to delay actually putting them in the lock.
“No, Audrey, you—” He drew in a deep breath. “You don’t understand how good of a day this was for me.” He set the bag of leftovers down on the stoop and buried his face in one wide palm. “I don’t get days like this anymore.”
“Well, maybe you should. We can have more, you know.”
He uncovered his eye slowly and gazed down at her before stepping closer. “Yeah? You want to do this again?”
