Forever Baby (9 page)

When I get to school, Nolan is waiting by one of the old lampposts at the building’s entrance.

“Hey, you. How was your night?” he asks.

“Interesting. I have a lot to tell you actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smile up at him. “I’ll tell you at break.”

Professor Gomez is lecturing about the importance that food plays into the traditions of the De la Garza family in the novel
Like Water for Chocolate
, our assigned reading this week. My mind actively wanders over the events of the previous night. I hear the professor, but I am not focusing on his words. My thoughts are immersed in the deconstruction and analysis of the past week’s events.

Nolan slides his notebook onto my desk. On the top of the page, he has written,
Dish it
.

My lips rise up into a grin. Raising my head, I see Nolan’s smirk, and his ensuing nod toward the notebook.

Okay, fine.
I write,
I kissed Andres
, and then slide his notebook back to him.

He reads my response, and his left eyebrow rises as he hands his notebook back to me. He didn’t write a response, but from his expression, I know that he wants details. I write down the bullet points of the evening.

Danced with Andres at La Jolla. He kissed me, and he’s picking me up after class today.

Upon reading my note, he turns to me, looking confused. He mouths,
Really?

Really
, I mouth back.

After class, Nolan and I head to the campus café to get coffee, and I tell Nolan about the preceding evening in more detail. I begin with the uncomfortable silent treatment between Andres and me, and I end with Andres pulling me out of the bar after a moderately inappropriate display of affection on the dance floor.

“Wow, I didn’t see that coming. I’ve never seen you two even speak,” is his reply.

“I know. It was surreal for me, too. It definitely wasn’t expected.”

“So, you like him?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t really know him well. We haven’t had any real conversations yet. So, I guess we’ll see.” I omit my immediate nonsensical extreme attraction for Andres, if solely for the fact that it verges on bizarre, even to me.

“Cool.” He looks down at his watch. “Hey, Liv, we better get to our next class.”

After our second class, Nolan is adamantly illustrating a very vivid picture of an embarrassing encounter at his apartment. He was walking down the hall after his shower last night when he stepped on a centipede on the floor.

“Fuck, Livi, this thing was six inches long with a million legs.”

“A million, huh?” I chuckle.

“A fucking lot, okay? I felt it slither under my toes! I screamed like a girl and jumped two feet off of the ground, dropping my towel. I didn’t see where it had gone, and I wasn’t going to risk seeing it again by picking up the towel. I was naked and making my way to the bedroom when Pedro comes around. He was probably seeing why I’d yelled. You should have seen his face when he all but ran into my naked ass.”

I’m doubled over, laughing, with visions of Nolan and his nude face-off with the killer centipede. I straighten and notice Andres leaning against a tree in the garden with his hands in his pockets. He’s looking at me with an inquisitive expression on his face. I immediately stop laughing. He takes my breath away.

Breathe, Liv.

Giving myself silent encouragement, I grab Nolan’s hand. “Come on, scaredy-cat.” I lead him to where Andres is waiting.

“Hi.” I smile at Andres, feeling like a lovesick girl.
Geez, pull it together.

Nolan greets Andres. They shake hands and exchange a couple of pleasantries.

Nolan bends down to kiss my cheek. “Call me later.”

I smile as Nolan walks away. Andres has a fixed expression on his face as he watches Nolan. Andres grabs my hand and leads me away from the school and toward the road. We walk in silence, and I notice that we’re headed for a motorcycle leaning on its kickstand on the sidewalk.

I stop abruptly. “Is that yours?” I ask, a slight shrill to my voice.

“Yes,” Andres answers, sounding confused.

“Oh, no, I don’t do motorcycles. You do know how incredibly unsafe they are, right?” I’m sure the expression on my face is one of complete terror.

I’m normally not a scared person. I mean, obviously, since I had a homeless man frequent my yard back home, and it didn’t faze me enough to lock my doors. Something about certain modes of transportation, specifically planes and motorcycles, freak me out. I have visions of plummeting to my death from the sky or being propelled off a motorcycle into a tree. I know these fears are irrational for the most part, but seriously, it could happen. It has happened. I’ve seen the news stories. I just can’t help my anxiety.

He takes a step to stand behind me. Encasing me between his arms, he pulls me toward him. My legs turn to jelly as he kisses my shoulder. Then, ever so sweetly, he proceeds to place little kisses in a line from my shoulder to my neck, ending at the base of my ear. My body shivers as he starts to nibble my earlobe.

In between nibbles, he whispers, “I will keep you safe, I promise.”

I’m awoken from my sensual escape when his heated body steps back from mine. Following a startling smack on my ass cheek, I yelp and laugh. He grabs a helmet and hands it to me, and he’s obviously very pleased with himself.

I’m feeling contradicting emotions, but against my better judgment, I put on the helmet and climb on.
You only live once, right?
That thought brings a smile to my face. I am going to text Cara about this later. She loves to obnoxiously hashtag
YOLO
after everything. It has become a running joke, causing her to do it more than necessary.

As we drive away, I wrap my arms around him, and his tight abdomen flexes under my grasp. I lean my head into his back and close my eyes while holding on as tightly as I can. I think he laughs as we merge onto the street outside of campus. We weave through the bumpy streets. I venture a peek, and I am utterly panicked as he swerves in and out of traffic, around potholes, and between cars. This would be terrifying in a car, and it is completely paralyzing on a motorcycle. Andres isn’t wearing a helmet, and a million horrid images flash through my mind as I imagine the worst. I pray we make it safely to our destination.

The motorcycle slows as we bounce down a cobblestone street. We halt, and I open my eyes. We’re parked in front of a gray concrete gate. Andres lifts me off the motorcycle and holds me to him. I’m grateful because I honestly don’t know if I could stand on my own at the moment. My legs are still shaking as the adrenaline subsides.

With one arm circled around my back, holding me, he removes my helmet with the other. My hair falls from its messy bun. He places the helmet on the motorcycle seat and runs his fingers through my hair. I fix my eyes on his face and marvel at his full lips and perfectly smooth skin, and my breath hitches when my gaze meets his eyes. The prior ride of terror is all but forgotten.

“Come.” He grabs my hand and leads me through the gate door.

I peer up at a tall house made of the same stucco material as the house I am staying in, but this one has varying shades of gray. He takes me inside and explains that he lives here alone. The house is three stories, including the rooftop deck. I learn that his dad is an architect and designed the whole thing. It’s bare with no finishing touches—light bulbs without enclosures, cabinets without doors, a couple of walls without drywall, the wooden studs visible. He leads me up to the top floor to his bedroom and a wide-open outdoor living space. The rooftop balcony is half the house’s width and overlooks the city. It’s a breathtaking view.

“My father never finished the house.”

“Why not?”

“After my mom died, I guess he couldn’t. This home was their dream.”

Oh.

Andres doesn’t expand on the bomb he dropped, and I don’t ask about it. He sits on the outdoor couch facing the backdrop of Seville. I sit next to him.

“Tell me about yourself, Olivia,” he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

“There’s not much to tell. I have an older brother, Max. My parents are great. My mom’s a nurse, and my dad’s an electrician. I grew up in a small town in southern Michigan.”

“What are you studying in college?”

Even such a simple question coming from Andres is a major aphrodisiac. I have come to the conclusion that everything sounds sexy in Spanish, especially in Andres’s voice. I am finding that I don’t even have to translate the Spanish to English in my head anymore before it registers. Other than when I’m talking to Nolan in English, I am constantly thinking and speaking in Spanish. I am even dreaming in Spanish, which always excites me when I awake.

“I’m going to school to become a teacher. I hope to teach the Latino children in Detroit. The whole Latin community and culture is very interesting to me.” I blush.

He’s staring at me with sincere curiosity.

I continue, “I go to Eastern Michigan University and live with my best friend, Cara, who’s like a sister to me. You’ll meet her. She’s coming to visit in a few weeks.”

Then, I stop, realizing I implied that he and I would be hanging out for more than today. He doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks.

“Hmm…digging deep now, huh?” I grin. “Actually, that question doesn’t have a simple answer. If I had to pick a color to wear, it is black. I love all blues in general, and you can’t go wrong with pink. Oh, I also love the oranges and reds of the leaves when they change colors in the fall.” I pause. “Can I say all colors?” I look at him quizzically.

“Sure.” He laughs. “Favorite food?”

“Mexican, hands down.”

“Mexican?”

“Definitely.” I smirk.

“Well, I will have to take you to some of my favorite restaurants and see if I can change your mind on that one.”

“I doubt it, but you can try,” I say in a tone indicating a challenge.

“What’s your full name?”

“Olivia Rose Marshall. Yours?”

“You have a beautiful name. My middle name is Paulo, and last name is Cruz.”

“Andres Cruz. That fits you.”

His name sounds like one belonging to a movie star, and to be honest, he could be one. I still can’t get over how attracted I am to him and that I am sitting in his house.

“What is your favorite thing to do?” he asks.

“Probably chilling with Cara and Nolan.”

“Tell me about you and Nolan.”

“I met Nolan on my first day of college. We had Spanish together. We’ve been friends ever since.”

“You’ve never been more than that?” he asks, his face concerned.

“No, always only friends.”

“You appeared to be more than friends at the club on your first night here.”

Oh, yeah, I guess he saw that.
“Um…that was a drunken accident. We don’t normally go around and kiss each other. He has a girlfriend. We really are solely friends.”

“But you hold hands? You seem very comfortable together, like there’s more than friendship between you.”

“We’re close, very close. We’ve always been loving with each other. That’s just the way we are, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It always means something, Olivia,” he says.

“No, not with Nolan. Friends only, I promise.” I smile reassuringly.

Andres’s demeanor shifts, and he quickly changes the subject. “Are you hungry?”

“Um…yeah, a little.” I realize I haven’t eaten all day.

Andres leads me to the kitchen. “Well, I don’t have much. I don’t eat here too often. Is a sandwich okay?”

“A sandwich is great.”

He opens the refrigerator, pulls out ingredients, and proceeds to make us each a ham sandwich.

He hands me a plate. “Your sandwich, madam.” He winks.

God, he is good-looking.

We eat and talk some more.

I’m nervous when I speak. “What about you, Andres? Tell me about you.”

“I don’t have any biological siblings, but I’ve grown up with Carlos, Nadia, Hugo, and Julio. They’re like family to me. My mom died when I was fourteen. She was the best in every way.” His face lights up at the mention of his mom. “I was going to college for a while, but I needed a break. So, now, I’m not really doing much of anything besides the band. I want to go back to school at some point, but I need a while to figure out what I want.”

“Where’s your dad? He doesn’t live here?” I ask.

“No. He couldn’t stay here after my mom died. He has a small apartment about twenty minutes from here.”

“Have you always stayed here alone?”

“Most days, yes.”

“But you were only fourteen! A fourteen-year-old would never be allowed to raise himself in the States.”

“This isn’t the States. Plus, technically, I still had my father. It’s not like I reported it to anyone. Livi, honestly, it wouldn’t have mattered if he were here or not. It was probably easier with him gone. I stayed at Carlos and Nadia’s a lot.” Andres pauses thoughtfully. “He wasn’t well. He still isn’t. He hasn’t been since my mom died.” He places our plates in the sink. “Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure you have homework to do before we go out tonight.”

“We’re going out?”

“Yeah. We’re going to Demo. It’s a sweet bar. You’ll like it.”

I’m sure I will
, I think as Andres takes my hand.

He leads me out of the house, and my skin hums at the contact of his touch. It’s already so addictive.

After our terrifying ride back to my house, Andres helps me off of the motorcycle before he leans in and gives me a tender kiss. He pulls away, leaving me breathless. My lips tingle with the memory of his mouth on mine as I watch him swing his leg over the bike.

“I’ll be back by ten, beautiful.” He flashes me his gift of a smile.

I’m melting as he rides away.

I count down the seconds until tonight. Today’s events and the time I spent with Andres was so comfortable, fun, and simply perfect. I have to remind myself that it wasn’t a dream. It’s hard to believe that we were practically strangers yesterday.
What a difference a day makes.
Prickles of anticipation race across my skin as I think about tonight. I can’t even imagine the excitement that the evening will bring, and it can’t come soon enough.