“Yeah, you mentioned that today but is his name really Nine?”
“Nah,” Byron smiled. “He’s just gone by it for years. Something about his pitching days, always went nine innings and shit, but I don’t really remember. I just met him as Nine, so he’s always been Nine to me.” He chuckled as he thought about it. “I can’t even remember his real name. Speaking of names though. What’s up with your friends name?”
“Xochitl?” she smiled then laughed sweetly when he nodded wide eyed. “When I saw the name of who I’d be rooming with I panicked.” She explained about immediately doing her research on the unusual name and even practicing how to pronounce it before she met her. “It’s Aztec and she’s Hispanic like me. You are too, obviously? Mexican cartel and all?”
“Yeah,” he nodded kissing her hand and pulling her down next to him again because he was already having withdrawals. Hearing her sweet laugh didn’t help. “Almost born in Mexico,” he said before kissing her so deep his heart was thudding again.
He was tempted to ask her what it was about her that had him feeling this way. Like she’d know. But again, the fear of freaking her out like he thought he might’ve those first few times she’d caught him gawking at her won out. Pulling away he searched her eyes and shook his head without thought.
“What?” She tilted her head.
Panicked and feeling like an idiot, he cleared his throat and glanced away. “Just trying to remember who you remind me of.” Glancing back at her he was glad for the distraction of her pulling stuff out of the bag she packed snacks in. Before she could make too much of his comment he added, “You made this?” Byron pointed at the fancy salsa that looked restaurant bought.
She nodded pulling a chip out of the bag. “Yeah, I just threw together what I could find. I didn’t have cilantro and only half a jalapeno, so I threw in some cayenne pepper, but I overdid it. Thankfully, I found a mango, diced it in there and it sort of mellowed it down.”
“You know your enchiladas are pretty much gone.” He leaned in and kissed her because he had to, then pulled away and gazed at her. “And the only other person I shared with was Nine, but he inhaled about six of them. Is that what you’re studying?”
Frowning, she shrugged as she dipped a chip in the salsa. “No. I actually haven’t made up my mind what I want to major in. For now, I’m just getting my general Ed out of the way. On paper, I’m majoring in business.”
Byron reached for one of the quesadilla slices and dipped it into the salsa. Just like her enchiladas had, the flavors exploded in his mouth. Didn’t even matter that the salsa did have a hell of a kick to it. It was still damn good.
“Well, I think . . .” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Judging just from the two things I’ve tasted you made so far, you should definitely look into majoring in the culinary world.”
Tilting her head again, she smiled. “My parents said the same thing. They . . .” She paused peering out toward the tide. “Is that them?”
Turning toward the water, Byron saw the moonlit shiny slithering of the grunion. “Yep, that’s them.”
For the rest of the evening, he decided to keep the conversation on safe stuff. He told her about the first time he’d been out to see the grunion run and then moved on to one of his favorite subjects, his nieces. He told her about their day at the Zoo and how it’d been Lucy’s first time seeing a lot of the more exotic animals.
“I’ve seen photos of my first time at the zoo.” She smiled big, shaking her head. “But I don’t remember it I was so young. The first trip there that I do remember was on a school trip in the second grade. I remember the kids snickering because we were assigned partners if we didn’t pick our own. Juan was the only boy who picked a girl—me. And we had to stick together and hold hands the whole day. It’s weird looking back now because I’ve always been so shy. You’d think I would’ve avoided holding hands with a boy because in the second grade that was just asking for merciless teasing and we did it so casually. Even became best friends after that.”
Glancing out at the grunion trying to sound as casual as the story she’d just shared Byron had to ask. “So, your best friend is a dude?”
“Was, through grade school, before his family moved back to Mexico.” She shrugged picking up one of the last pieces of the quesadilla and dipping into the salsa. “Didn’t see or hear from him again until high school and even then, it was only via social media. His parents opened up some kind of cell phone store business out there and are doing really well.” She smiled at him wiping her mouth after eating the quesadilla. “Xochitl is my best friend now.”
Done with getting tense every time they veered off any safe subjects, Byron decided he was also done with talking. He leaned in and kissed her softly. Within minutes they were laying down on the blanket doing what he now knew he’d never get enough of and he’d much rather be doing then wondering about where this might or might not be going.
Twelve
Seeing Red
Byron
For an entire week it’d been one thing after another that kept Byron from seeing Vannah again. Though they’d talked on the phone, texted and video chatted enough in the days that followed their night out at the beach. Byron had never been a phone guy, yet they’d had marathon talks well into the night all week. Then when they finally ended their sometimes hours long chats, he’d lie there for a long time pondering not just everything they discussed, but how quickly she’d seeped into his every thought. It was now almost the weekend since he’d last seen her that Monday—touched her and he was growing unbelievably anxious about when he would again.
Vannah had been busy with school, and Byron’s business appointments were heavier than the norm that week. The vacillating visit from her brother that had since turned into possibly more family members stopping by with him, didn’t help either. She’d continually been on standby only to have them cancel more than once already last minute.
To top it off, he and Vannah had finally managed to pencil in a lunch date that Friday and Byron had been more than looking forward to it when he got the call.
“I need a huge favor,” Beast said as soon as Byron answered his call.
“Sure, what’s going on?”
“Few weeks ago, when Ali sent Nat home because she was coughing and whatnot, turned out to be a lot more than just a cold. They don’t know for sure yet, but they found something in her lungs.”
It took a moment for Byron to remember who Beast was talking about—his niece’s regular sitter. He listened as Beast filled him in on how they were scrambling to find a replacement because Nat would be out of commission for a while if not longer. His pregnant wife Ali was on strict doctor’s orders to stay off her feet as much as she possibly could. She’d already gone into early labor once and she was still months from her due date.
“Lila’s stepped up already to help out with the girls until we can find a replacement, but she won’t be back in town for a couple of days. I need someone to pick them up from school today and watch them for a couple of hours until I’m done with this photo shoot.”