“We are?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice.
Carolynda beams, probably glad that for once we’re not fighting. “Have fun.”
“But keep your phones on.” Dad gives us both a pointed look. “If I call, you’d better answer.”
Have I ever ignored his call? No. “We will.”
“Come on.” Vivian grabs my arm and pulls me away. My skin tingles at his touch and my heart flutters a little as if it believes Vivian actually wants us to spend time together. My heart can believe what it wants. My brain knows better. As soon as we’re away from the parents, Vivian is going to interrogate me.
Am I ready for that conversation?
He pulls me to a spot away from the crowds, but we can still see some of the parade. It helps that we’re tall enough to see over the crowds. At least I am.
Vivian swirls around, getting in my face, confirming my brain was spot on. “What’s going on?”
The sun feels hot on my skin. Hopefully, it hides the heat in my face. The intensity in his eyes has me shifting my stance. “Can we…eat first?”
“Now?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry, Jonah.” He lets out a frustrated sound that makes my hunger for food seem less important than my need to kiss him.
What the hell?
Focus on food, Jonah.
I bite my lip and bat my eyes. “Please?”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” I ask innocently.
“Ugh. Fine.” He grabs my arm again and drags me around the crowd toward where the food trucks are set up.
The current between us is back, spreading from his hand to my arm and then the rest of my body. We slow our pace and people start to move out of our way. Vivian seems oblivious to the looks he’s getting.
He’s beautiful. I’ve known that since the day we met. But I forget how startling it is for other people when they see him. His dark hair and flawless complexion. His beautiful dark eyes. Those impossible cheekbones. But it’s also the way he carries himself with confidence and a hint of vulnerability.
They can’t know Vivian’s real beauty. He’s intelligent. Sarcastic. Funny. And caring. I never realized until this trip how caring he is.
People stare at him, and it’s borderline rude. I used to blame him for that. As if he wanted all this attention and would do anything to get it. And when he didn’t acknowledge the staring, I assumed he thought he was too good for everyone else.
I was completely wrong. Vivian doesn’t want the attention. In fact, he often tries to hide himself.
My stomach growls in complaint. Too much heavy thinking before lunch.
We scan the food trucks, and after agreeing on barbecue, we head for the back of the line.
As we’re passing by a few guys, they reach out as if they’re going to touch him. I glare at them, and they hold out their hands in a no-worries type gesture. Thankfully, Vivian doesn’t notice.
The guy right in front of us is a blond Adonis. Seriously, it’s not fair that some people look this good. I mean, sure, it has something to do with working out and taking care of yourself, and skin care—according to Vivian—but some people just have that beautiful gene. Totally not fair.
And some people know how gorgeous they are, which takes their attractiveness down a notch or two for me.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” the Adonis says to Vivian, looking him up and down.
I resist the urge to growl at him, but I do turn my arm so I can grab Vivian’s hand.
