"Yeah. I saw your tour dates for the rest of the year. You don’t have anything until October."
"We’re starting to work on the new album. We’ll spend some time in the studio." He inspects me from head to toe, and his eyes linger on my new blue hair and then move to my right arm, where a freshly inked heart sits.
"New tattoo?" He points at the design.
"Part of the post-breakup package." I grin. "New hair color and freedom too. Just thought I’d treat myself a little."
"So you guys are over for real?" he asks carefully.
My mind stutters between then and now, the past and the present. He waits for me to breathe, no pressure. "Yes. Jett’s history," I finally say.
"Good."
"Are you happy because of my heartbreak?" I tease him.
"Let’s be honest, Wendy." He leans in closer like he’s about to whisper a secret to me. "Motherfucking Jett Vice was never the man for you. He didn’t deserve you."
Goosebumps riddle my arms. I know we agreed this would be a one-time thing back in Germany, but then we exchanged numbers and he called and now he brought coffee. It feels like the Universe it trying to tell me something. That maybe, just maybe, Cruz Velez is here to stay.
He draws back and rests against the bench, looking wistfully into the blue California sky as pedestrians move past us in both directions.
"I was thinking, you know," he continues talking with a reserved smile on his face. "I’m a man who’s willing to compromise. How about two?"
"Two what?" I’m totally clueless as to what he’s talking about right now. Sounds like some code I forgot.
"I said three and you said one when we were in Germany. So I say two is a good middle ground." He turns his head to me, and there’s a cocky smile there.
I shake my head once, prompting him to explain. "Two of what?"
"Kids."
I almost choke on my coffee. "Come again? Kids? Is that what you want from me?"
He nods innocently. "Yep. But not from you.With you."
"I’m twenty-two."
"I know."
"That’s a little fast."
"I’m not saying right this moment. I was thinking we’ll start slow. How about I ask you on a date first?"
I promised myself I’d take time off from men and concentrate on my school and my career, but he’s just so damn hard to resist. "Okay," I say after a long moment of consideration.
His smile cracks open again. "Dinner and a movie?"
"Yeah. Dinner sounds good."
The timer in my pocket buzzes, and that’s my cue to stand up and go back in. I’m aware of my body and his, the proximity, what happens next. I pretend it’s harder than it is, but it’s not hard at all—to close the distance between us and to kiss him on the lips.
"I really gotta run. Or Renita will fire me," I mutter demurely as I pull back.
"Call you this evening?" he says.
"Yeah. I get off at eight."
"Sounds good."
