He held up his phone screen for us to see, still smiling wide. It was open to an Instagram account and on the screen there was a photo of a familiar-looking woman holding out one of Nesto’s burritos for the person who took the photo. The caption read,
Spent the afternoon in the Finger Lakes Wine and Brew Festival and was blown away by the amazing wine, beer, and food being offered. This is me doing a happy dance before digging into my second burrito of the day from @OuNYeAfroCaribe. If you are at the festival this weekend,stop by their stand for life-giving burritos with amazing Caribbean flavors.
The one in the photo is The Marley, inspired by the flavors of Jamaica, including haddock fried in a Jerk and Red Stripe batter. SO GOOD. The couple who run it are two lovely men, who had me literally eating out of their hands. If you are in the area come GET YOUR LIFE with their incredible food. #NYMagazine #OuNYeAfroCaribe #BestName #FingerLakesWine&Brew #Foodstagram #Foodie #FoodCritic
I looked at her face again and realized she was the woman I’d talked with that afternoon. She was wearing the same flowy top and Yankees baseball hat. Apparently she was a critic for New York Magazine and had over two hundred thousand followers. The photo with Nesto’s burrito already had more than three thousand likes.
“Wow,” was all I could say. I passed the phone back to Nesto and he immediately started tapping on the screen. After a few seconds he looked up at me, smiling. “We’ve had like three hundred people follow the account since she posted that.” He leaned over and kissed me hard on the lips. Then looked back at Juanpa and Milo who were busy checking their phones, I assumed reading the post as well.
“That’s the lady Jude helped at the stand today, bruh. I told you guys he was mad good with her.” Nesto always fell back into his Bronx accent when he was happy or excited.
“Oh I don’t know about that. If the food wasn’t amazing, no amount of charm could’ve made her post that.”
Nesto nodded and conceded the point, looking more than a little proud of himself. “True. True. My food is dope, but there were alotof vendors there, and other than a couple wine and beer places, she didn’t feature anyone else from the festival, and that’s huge. Babe, this is the kind of exposure we need. Stuff like this is what puts a business like ours on the map.”
He leaned in again to give me another kiss. I had not missed the fact that he used the words “we” and “ours,” or that the critic had assumed we were a couple, but I wasn’t going to go down that rabbit hole right now either. The conversation with Camilo was enough to have me fretting for days.
Milo was still looking at his phone as he talked. “Nes, you should see the other places she’s been posting about, like major foodie spots. This will bring you some attention for sure.” He snapped his head up. “You need to repost this on your account, keep the buzz going a bit.”
“I will,” Nesto said, quickly tapping on his phone screen. “But let’s get back to work. We only need a few more things prepared and can go get some rest. Hopefully we’ll be doing lots of business tomorrow for when Mr. Sheridan stops by,if hestops by.” A frown shadowing his handsome face.
Milo laughed. “Now you just want attention. He’ll come by. Didn’t Jude say like ten times the guy’s known in town for being great to work with?”
I nodded. “That’s true.”
Nesto relaxed, and before going back to his station he stopped and asked quietly, “You still want to hang out afterward?” His lips lightly grazed my ears as he talked. The fluttering in my stomach was getting ridiculous.
“Yes.”
“Good.” After another kiss he went back to work.
I looked after him, thinking about the conversation with Camilo, and how much I wanted what he said to be true. Nesto’s “we” sounded so natural.
chapter eighteen
nesto
“So where do you want that back rub?” I asked quietly as we walked into Jude’s house. It was only 10:30 p.m. With all the extra hands, we’d managed to get everything done in just a couple of hours, which meant I had a bit more time to hang out with Jude tonight. But now I was buzzing with energy, especially after seeing the post from the food critic, my adrenaline was through the roof.
Jude closed the door, turned around, and put his back against it as I walked into his arms. He ran his hands over the back of my head and looked up at me with a smile.
“If you really are going to give me a massage, you can pick.” He was looking at me with such tenderness. He looked happy and tired, his blue eyes a bit hazy. He’d worked hard today. For me.
I ran my hands up and down his arms and put my forehead against his.
“Couch?” I asked and he gave me another one of those lazy smiles and shook his head.
“Ummm well, the best place is the bed.” I paused at his comment, because in the weeks since we started seeing each other we’d been intimate plenty of times. I was pretty much addicted to his dick and mouth at this point, but so far his bedroom had been off limits. We’d gotten into my bed andmessed around on his couch a bunch of times, but I hadn’t been invited into his.
I hadn’t asked either. I mean I got plenty of action on his couch and at my place, so why get pushy, right? So, this casual suggestion felt like a big fucking deal. All night I’d been grappling with the feeling that today had changed something for us. I assumed it was him finally meeting the guys and how well they all seemed to gel, but now I knew he must’ve been feeling it, too. I lifted an eyebrow in question, and asked, “Are you sure? We can do it here.”
He grabbed my head, pulling me down for a kiss, as he nodded in answer to my question. He licked into my mouth, searching for my tongue.
I loved kissing him.
His lips were thinner than mine, but they were shaped perfectly. He moaned into my mouth and lifted his leg, hooking it with mine. “I want you in my bed, Nesto. I’ve been wanting you there for weeks, from the first night.” Then he laughed and shook his head. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Oh shit.
