Is she right? Does Manny actually like me? Or am I reading too much into things? Am I going to chase another guy just for him to lose interest and throw me out like Chad and so many others?
Manny’s grip tightens on my hand. “Hey, you sure you’re good?”
I shake the sullen hundred-yard stare off my face. “Yeah, yes. Should we go?”
“Don’t you wanna wait for your friends?”
“No, they got their own ride.”
Manny’s face twists inquisitively. “What? Like they can fly?”
“No, Uber.”
He chuckles at the mundanity of my answer, and for the briefest moment, I can feel myself lean into the warmth ofhis laughter, but it’s not as easy anymore. There’s something new, a wall, making it so I can feel the warmth, but only at a distance.
Chapter ten
Last Night In Paradise
Manny invites me back to his place, a modest studio apartment with a screened-in porch, attached to a suburban house. So is the life of a writer.
“I thought you lived with your uncle?”
“I do.” He gestures to the rest of the house. “Studio apartment just sounds less sad.”
I shake my head at him, at the logic, at the absurdity of it all. Even now, he’s still charming me, and that’s somehow making everything feel worse.
“Care to see inside?” he asks, jingling his keys.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I say with a sly grin.
The apartment is Spartan, ironic, given that he’s Persian. A shelf made of cinderblocks and plywood takes up one wall as his low bed frame runs along the opposite. In thecorner, there’s a kitchenette, a sad thing with barely two burners and a sink, but he insists he “makes it work.”
“You must have women beating down your door to get in here,” I tease.
“Oh no, only someone really special would get invited back here.”
There it is again, that honest flirting, the way he’s constantly forward about his feelings for me, which has me wondering, am I that special or is he just like that with everyone? He certainly hasn’t called V or Gabby beautiful all day. I think he called V charming once, but I’m pretty sure that was sarcastic. I know it shouldn’t bother me, that I should just enjoy it, especially on this last night, but I have to ask.
“Why do you do that?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” he teases. Then he collects a small plastic bin from a top shelf, revealing the shisha and coals inside. “Hookah?”
I give a smile of approval before asking again. “Why do you always talk to me like that? Calling me special, and sexy, and …all that other stuff?”
Manny goes to start the electric stove, the coils turning a warm orange as he heats the coals on top. “Because you are. Because that’s how I feel about you.”
He turns around, his eyes searching, but not the room. “...and when I lost my parents, I think that made me wantto make sure I never let anyone pass through my life without knowing how much they mattered to me ever again."
“But how can you know that? You just met me!”
His shoulders slump at the declaration, his head rocking back. At first, I think I’ve upset him, but the more I think about it, the more I realize I have no clue what makes him upset, which further drives home my point.
His gaze settles back on me, and when he looks at me, there’s such tenderness, a longing that I recognize, as if I’m looking in a mirror. “Because I just do. You’ve made me feel more seen and more alive in the three days I’ve been around you than I have in decades of being alive. It’s like you were plucked from one of my books, the strong, confident woman I’ve always imagined, just manifesting before me in one cosmic act of mercy. I can’t explain it any other way.”
I step toward him, closing the small distance in the already cramped apartment. “You really mean that?”
“Yes! Oh my God! Yes! I want to know everything about you! I want to find out we hate everything the other loves and spend nights arguing about it.”
