Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Darcy
“ D o you love it?” I asked Sebastian, covering my food-filled mouth, trying not to choke from the combination of food and laughter.
“That shit is so disgustingly good,” he laughed after swallowing his bite.
“Isn’t it?” I reached for my Cantarito—a cocktail served in a personal-sized pot I’d already consumed two of since sitting at this taco hut. “Now you’ve officially been welcomed to Mexico the right way. Bottoms up, baby,” I said, raising my cocktail, laughing, half drunk, and thoroughly enjoying watching Sebastian taste the finer foods to initiate him into a trip to Mexico with me.
He raised his pot to mine, tipped it back once it reached his lips, and downed half the glass in one shot.
“I’m not shitting you. It’s delicious, but knowing what’s in it is the disgusting part,” he laughed and raised his hand to the bartender to bring us two more Cantaritos. “I have to say, this drink is quite refreshing and delicious as well.”
“I think the clay pots enhance the flavor of the lime juice, tequila, and Jarritos,” I said.
“And the ant larvae I just ate? Do tell me, what is used to enhance those flavors, Little Miss Mexico?”
I laughed at the nickname he’d given me since being out here and walking through the street fair. “It’s called escamoles ,” I reminded him. “Maybe if you call it by its Spanish name, it’ll be just delicious and not deliciously disgusting ?”
“Yeah, no,” he said, offering me that shy smile I found utterly irresistible, especially when intoxicated on tequila and larvae. “Nothing will make this not disgusting.”
“Well, now that you’ve indulged in what is known as Mexican caviar, you have to try this,” I said, moving the tiny sampler plate back to him. “Chapulines and?—”
“I’m not eating dehydrated grasshoppers, and I’m most certainly not trying corn fungus,” his forehead wrinkled in humor, and I couldn’t resist finding this man so incredibly handsome as he laughed uninhibitedly, appearing to have the time of his life.
“Why not?” I said, reaching for a chapuline and popping it in my mouth like a tortilla chip, laughing as I watched Sebastian’s expression change at the sound of the crunch it made.
His nose scrunched up, his cute little shy smirk grew wider, and he softly laughed while studying me, most likely waiting for me to gag.
“It’s delicious,” I said. “The perfect smoky taste with a hint of lime and salt. Almost better than tortilla chips.” I reached for one, ran it through the guacamole, and reached over to where he sat across from me at the table, “Try it. If you can eat shrimp, you can eat this.”
“That’s what you said about the larvae,” he said, taking it from my hand and studying it.
“And it didn’t taste bad, did it? It probably tasted better than your usual appetite for ultra-expensive caviar.” I folded my arms on the table and watched him in humor. “Remember the rules,” I reminded him.
“I have to chew on it to gather the flavors, and I cannot cheat. I know,” he said, sounding annoyed, but his humorous expression told me otherwise.
“Do it,” I urged with a laugh. “And no drinking immediately afterward this time, either,” I shot him a warning look.
I thoroughly enjoyed giving this big bad man a run for his money with Mexico’s finer delicacies. This one was mild in flavor, but because he knew he was eating an insect, it was screwing with his mind, and I found it all so perfectly hilarious.
“It’s mind over matter. If I’m going to coach myself through this,” he said, still terrified to eat the grasshopper.
“True,” I agreed as if I were his therapist, watching my patient learn to eat without thinking about it. “And to go even deeper, I’ll add that life is pretty much like you being terrified to eat that grasshopper.”
“How so?”
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you from your bite, handsome,” I teased. “I’ll explain once I hear a few crunches.”
“But the legs,” he said. “And the antennas?”
“I know. You’d think those things would fall off, but they don’t, and they actually can tickle your tongue if you’re not careful,” I lied.
“God, here goes,” he said
“And in his mouth, Mr. Grasshopper went,” I said, laughing while my eyes widened to encourage him to crunch at least five times before swallowing it.
“You don’t need to create nursery rhymes about the food I’m eating,” he chuckled, then took his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Is that how your mother got you to eat this as a child?”
I nodded, “My mother went through an entire story about how Mr. Grasshopper sacrificed his life for the hungry Aztec boy who needed his powers.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“My mom named me after an orphaned monkey. What do you think?”
“How are you not traumatized?”
“I am every time someone calls me Darcel,” I chuckled.
“Now, finish your thoughts about how mind over matter applies to real life, taken from watching me eat a grasshopper.”
“Damn,” I said, taking a sip of my cocktail. “You don’t forget anything, do you?”
“In my line of work, I forget nothing, and when someone thinks they have this crazy and horrific thing we call life figured out, I want to hear their thoughts.”
“Um,” I stalled. Now, I had to think of something interesting to say because I didn’t really have anything to contribute. I just wanted him to eat the stupid grasshopper. “First, try the huitlacoche,” I said, pushing the corn fungus toward him while I tried to come up with something that didn’t sound like the line of bullshit I knew it was.
“No,” he said firmly. “Not until you tell me what you meant.”
“Well, it’s very simple, really,” I said, still thinking. “A lot of people are terrified to live their lives. They’re afraid to love someone, to embark on new beginnings, and things like that. And then, one day, they trust their gut and take the plunge to find out that living is better than dying,” I cringed at my boozy, jumbled-up mess of pseudo-wisdom. “Just like you found out eating that grasshopper. You were afraid of it, and now you’re not.”
“Very deep,” he said, mocking me.
“If I weren’t half drunk, that would’ve made sense,” I chuckled.
“Well, being that I am half-drunk with you, I can interpret it,” he said, “and I know what you are trying to say. I’ve been afraid to be happy or do anything that made me feel good about myself after Melissa passed away. The guilt has held me hostage, but since I’ve begun to let that go—something I have been terrified to do—it feels like the weight of grief is finally lifting.”
“It’s natural to feel some survivor’s guilt, but thankfully, you’re learning to move past that. When did you start to take the grasshopper challenge route with it all?” I said, trying to keep things light because I was too buzzed to get serious in conversation.
“Our first fake date with Jim and Avery,” he said. “That was the first night I’d not felt so heavy and burdened in a long time. It was like taking an anti-anxiety pill or something, and all my nerves, overthinking, and everything else was muted to where it didn’t control me. I haven’t been willing to let go of those feelings since.”
“Well, since you do not want to let those feelings subside, it’s time for your final taste challenge to become fully initiated into the marvelous world of Mexico, Darcy style.”
“God, corn fungus. But why? Why would they think this is something a person should eat?”
“Probably for the same reason we eat mushrooms. Now, quit bitching, and eat it. Our snorkeling adventure awaits, and you’re not going to go play in the ocean until you’ve eaten all that grub,” I chuckled. “And if it helps, the corn fungus is high in nutrients.”
“It helps,” he said before digging in.
“Five chews,” I reminded him again, watching him wrinkle his nose in disgust as he chewed on the tiny bite he’d just taken. “You’re only disgusted by it because I told you what it was.”
“Wasn’t that the point, though?” he questioned, downing the last of his drink. “To ensure I went through your whole Miss Mexico initiation process correctly?”
“Absolutely, and I wouldn’t dare feed you something without making you aware of what it was.”
“Ordinarily, I would demand to know what I was eating in a foreign country, but this time, I believe I would’ve done better had I not known.”
“Oh, you would’ve loved all of it. The flavors alone are what makes it addicting. So damn delicious.”
“No shit. I think I know why your parents moved Antonio and his family into their home,” he chuckled.
“And Antonio is ten times a better cook than all of Mexico’s street chefs combined,” I said. “I’m not lying when I say that.”
“And while we’re on the topic of not lying, when do you plan to return to Spencer and Nat and resume the lie about our relationship?”
“You’re already bored?” I questioned, instantly saddened at the thought of returning to the resort.
“You seem bummed about going back,” he said, cocking his head to the side to study me.
“I am. I’m having a blast, aren’t you?”
“Eating grasshoppers, larvae, and fungus? Absolutely,” he chuckled.
“Well, you did have other delicious street food, too,” I said. “You loved the elote, remember? The street corn,” I said.
“Yes, I did,” I said, nodding in agreement. “You know, I find it amusing that you seemed to liven up once we got out here and away from a resort where most people would die to spend their vacation.”
“Well, I’m not like most people. Big, fancy resorts don’t impress me.”
“And what does impress you?”
“Beer, grasshoppers, and watching you eat them,” I said, making the conversation light again because I watched a new expression form on his face, and it made my stomach tighten in a nervous spasm in response.
He looked impossibly handsome while his dark brown eyes searched mine for something more. His lips were slightly parted, lending a perfect expression for a man who seemed overly intrigued by me for some strange reason.
“You look like you’re about to kiss me,” I said, trying to diffuse this look because of what it was doing to me.
“What if I am?” he said, his sincere expression not faltering.
I stood up. “Then you and I will have bigger problems than the ones we’ve already created with our lying and scheming. Come on, I think it’s time you and I sober up in the ocean.” I smiled, “No kissing and no deep thoughts, or you’ll be taking the rest of that platter back to the hotel for leftovers.”
He smiled and stood to walk over to me, “You are an extremely beautiful woman, inside and out. I hope you know that.”
“A truth I’ve been at peace with all my life,” I teased.
He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, then smiled, “If only you and I weren’t from two separate worlds.”
“But we are, so we need to get going.”
“You’re nervous,” he said in a low, humorous tone.
“Terrified is more of an accurate word.”
“What if I told you that you should take your own advice and apply it to allowing me to kiss you,” he said.
“You are half drunk, and so am I. We have no business going down my wisdom road about not being afraid to take the plunge and live your life .”
He retreated and nodded. “I guess I should agree,” he answered. “Though, if I sober up and I’m still thinking along the lines of what I’m thinking now, I will steal that kiss from you,” he smiled.
“Yeah, okay,” I said with a smile.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I believe you’re drunk. Now, let’s go.”
Things were getting too dangerously comfortable with this man, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. If he and I couldn’t behave ourselves while intoxicated, we had no business sharing a hotel suite.
I would not allow myself to fall for this man at any cost. I was a fun and lively person. I loved my life and did not need a devastating heartbreak to put a damper on things. Natalia tried to warn me about the truth about Sebastian Aster—or falling for the man—but she didn’t know that she didn’t need to warn me about him. I already knew. I wasn’t foolish. I wasn’t lonely and didn’t need this man or any man.
This would be something to end his dry spell, something he could enjoy and easily move on from, but it would most likely spell heartache for me. I wasn’t going down that road, but after seeing that damn look in his eye, I knew this was far from over.