38. It’s like… hugging a burrito
Thirty-Eight
IT’S LIKE… HUGGING A BURRITO
Luke
Viv yawns loudly. All that’s left on the table are empty glasses and empty bottles of wine. The sky has darkened to black behind a star-dusted sky.
“I think it’s about that time, guys. Thank you for a lovely evening. I, for one, am very much enjoying this personalized bed-and-breakfast experience. Luke, can I use your bathroom quickly before we walk back?” Viv scoots her chair back and stretches her arms above her head.
“Yeah, you know where it is.”
Viv grabs her empty glass and an empty bottle to bring inside.
“I’ll come with,” Liv says, grabbing her glass and the other empty bottle of wine.
I watch her go, and out of my periphery, catch Josh watching me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, but his face says otherwise.
“Josh.”
He sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s just that… I don’t know, man. I wanted you to just have some fun with Liv, you know? Get yourself back out there after Sam.”
I bristle at the mention of my ex. We try not to talk about her, but every so often her name resurfaces like a bad pimple.
“But you two just… There's something about the two of you that works. I can’t explain it. But I see it.”
“She’s great. And she’s leaving. So it doesn’t matter.” The words feel like acid in my stomach. It matters.
I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who affects me like Liv does, which is dangerous. It’s exactly why I’ve avoided making these kinds of connections all this time.
“Is there any way for you two to, I don’t know, explore this thing you’ve got?” Josh sounds hopeful.
“Nah. It is what it is. This thing between us is nothing serious. Just let it go. She’s got a life seven hours away in the city, and I have a life here.
We both know how this story ends. I tried to keep a girl here once, tried to make it work, and look at how well that turned out.
I can’t ask her to change her life for me, and I can’t—” The words die on my lips.
He was there by my side when Samantha took off.
He should know I can’t put myself out there like that again.
“What if she’s willing to, though? Haven’t you heard her talk about the lake, the people? She loves it here.”
“Let it go, man.” I look up and see the two women emerging from the kitchen door.
“Joshy, my dear, will you walk me back?” Viv asks. Josh’s eyes sweep to me quickly, a question on his face. Unspoken words and understanding cross between us. That’s the beauty of growing up side by side.
“Sure thing.”
We follow them down the stairs to the path. Viv gives Liv a quick hug, mumbles something in her ear, and then waves goodbye to me.
“Thanks for dinner!”
Josh grabs a flashlight from his backpack and clicks it on, holding his elbow out for Viv.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Viv calls over her shoulder, looping her arm with Josh’s as they walk off into the dark.
And here we are. Finally uninterrupted.
I slip my hands into my pockets and turn my body toward Liv, who’s rubbing her arms against the nighttime chill and looking up at the stars.
“There are so many stars,” she says, never looking away from the sky.
I look up too. I can’t remember the last time I looked up. They’re here every night, but I guess from the sidewalks of a city, surrounded by lights and buildings, the view might look a little different. The desire to make this moment memorable for Liv overwhelms me.
“I have an idea. Come with me.” I brush past Liv, snagging her hand on the way, and lead her back up the stairs to the porch. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” I run inside and grab the blanket off the couch.
Outside, I wrap it around her shoulders and lead Liv to the cushioned lounge chair, sitting her down.
“One more thing,” I say as I trot back toward the door and flick off the switch to the string of lights.
We’re bathed in complete darkness, except for the light from the moon and the citronella candle to keep the mosquitoes away.
I climb into the chair behind Liv, placing my legs on either side of the chair and pulling her into me so her back is flush against my chest, wrapping my arms around her.
“It’s like… hugging a burrito,” I say. She huffs out a laugh and leans her head back against my shoulder, looking back up to the stars.
“Wow.”
The number of stars in the sky seems to have doubled with the lights off.
“Oh! A shooting star!” She pulls her arm from the blanket and points to the starlit sky.
“Make a wish,” I whisper against the shell of her ear, inhaling the scent of jasmine and vanilla that ignites every cell in my body. I brush my lips against her temple, and Liv closes her eyes to make her wish.
“Tell me something about yourself, Luke. I feel you know a lot more about me than I know about you.”
“I mean, there’s not much to tell. What do you want to know?”
“Okay, something vulnerable. You know about my mom—”
“And thunderstorms,” I gently tease, to which she rolls her eyes.
“I stand firm that Sunny hates storms.” She attempts to jab me in the stomach with her elbow from under the blanket. “Share. Now.”
“Okay, okay. So growing up, the bed-and-breakfast had this cat—”
She scoffs.
Scoffs!
“Look, I love cats, I really do, but everyone has told me about the cat. Can you give me some new material?”
“Excuse me, did you want to hear my vulnerable story or not?” I squeeze her, and she drops her head to my shoulder, laughing.
“Okay! I’ll listen!” She wiggles, trying to break free.
“And you won’t interrupt?” I keep squeezing.
“Promise!”
I loosen my hold, and she settles back against my stomach, eyes trained on the sky.
“So the house had this cat, Percy. He was a big, fluffy, gray cat. I’m talking about sixteen pounds of fat and fur. He was actually mine. I raised him from a kitten, and he was my buddy. He’d follow me to the house in the morning for work, stick around for the day, and follow me home at night.”
Liv listens, pulling and twisting absentmindedly at a loose fiber of the blanket.
“One day, when I went to find him to head home for the night, he was curled in my dad’s lap, while my dad slept in his recliner. I tried to coax him to come with me, but he didn’t. He refused to leave, stayed at the house from that day forward, and I couldn’t understand it.”
Liv twists to look at me, but I train my eyes on the stars.
“We learned about my dad’s cancer diagnosis not too long after. I think Percy knew he was sick before we did.” Feeling the familiar sting in my nose and knot in my throat, I pause and wait for the feeling to pass.
“Percy never left the house after that. He stayed there until Dad passed away and then, well, until he died too. Maybe he wanted to stay with my mom, so she wouldn’t be alone. I’m not sure.”
I inhale deeply, preparing to voice something I’ve never said out loud before.
“So in a way, I didn’t just lose my dad, I lost Percy too, which feels really unfair.
” I clear my throat, swallowing the emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.
“It seems selfish to feel that way, let alone voice it. So, consider yourself special because this is the first time I’ve ever said that out loud. ”
She studies my profile before she leans over and brushes a kiss, softer than a whisper, against my cheek.
“Thank you for sharing with me.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and then Liv fires her next question.
“So, tell me about your sister. You had to babysit the other night, Josh said, but you also watch your niece during the day sometimes too? Seems like a lot…” Her voice trails off.
I can almost feel her retreat into herself as soon as the question is out.
“Sorry. That was nosy. Not me being too intense. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Haven’t I told you? I like this about you. Don’t apologize for who you are.”
Liv releases a breath, lips parting, then nods. “Okay.”
“Zoe’s husband, Roger, is… Well, he’s tough to like. Roger has always had his issues with alcohol, and it seems gambling has joined the party from time to time too. Zoe has the patience of a saint. She’s given Roger so many chances to clean his act up, but he just falls back into his ways.”
“That must be tough to watch. Is he a good dad, at least?”
“Yes. When he’s home and sober, he is. As a husband, he’s not the best for my sister, but Piper adores him. I guess I just wish Zoe found the sort of love my mom and dad had. It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime loves everyone wishes for.”
“Do you wish for that?” She tilts her head in my direction, nose grazing the stubble of my beard.
“I used to. But now, my focus is this family and the bed-and-breakfast, and that can make it tough to get out there and meet people.”
“I get it. My Gram and Pop had that kind of love—like your mom and dad. I always dreamed I’d stumble upon it myself someday, but it turns out I’m a workaholic who is shitty at small talk, and if someone doesn’t see those things as flaws, then I eventually find their flaws myself.
It’s just easier than getting attached only to find out they’ve cheated on you and will eventually leave anyway. ”
“That’s very specific. Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Instinctively, my grip around Liv tightens.
“I had an ex who seemed like the real deal until I found out he also had a whole life with another woman. According to him, I was difficult to be with, worked too much, and asked too many questions—but how could I not when he didn’t come home some nights?”
“What a dick.”
“I know, right?” Liv shakes her head in disbelief.
“He said I couldn’t just let loose and have fun.
That I always had to be out there proving myself and working harder than everyone else.
I mean, Viv and I had just started our business—what was I supposed to do?
Anyway, I haven’t really successfully dated since. ”
“His loss,” I murmur in her ear.
She snuggles into me, pressing her body deeper into the blanket, releasing a yawn. “He was right, though. I really didn’t ever let loose and have fun. It’s hard for me to relax, and besides work and Viv, I don’t really have many friends.”
“You seem pretty relaxed here, though.”
She hums, a sound deep in her throat.
“I am.”
There’s a thoughtful tone to the way she says that.
It’s silent except for the gentle lapping of the water against the shoreline and the occasional hoot of an owl in the trees. The breeze rustles Liv’s hair; a stray strand tickles my cheek.
“There’s something about this lake that just feels… I don’t know. I can’t explain it,” Liv says.
Hope flares in my chest. “Say it with me now, Trip: lake life is better than city life.” In the moonlight, I can see her eyes roll as she releases a breathy chuckle. I wait with bated breath, wondering if she’ll repeat it. If Josh was right.
“I love the city. It’s my home.”
That brief spark of hope vanishes. I’ve been here before, on the edge of goodbye. I know exactly what’s behind that door, and I’m not willing to open it again.
“It’s okay to be wrong.”
And that earns me another elbow jab to the stomach and a chuckle from the beautiful blonde wrapped in my arms.
The conversation slows to a stop, the steady, rhythmic breathing of sleep having pulled Liv under.
I watch the stars and listen to the owls, enjoying the feel of her snuggled between my arms until my own eyes become heavy.
I consider waking her up and walking her home—I didn’t ask her to sleep over—but decide against it.
Gently untangling myself from her, I scoop her up, blanket and all, and walk her into the house and up the stairs to my bed.
She sighs into the pillow and rolls onto her side. I head back downstairs, hating that she’s up there in my bed and my arms aren’t around her the way they feel like they should be.