‘No.’
‘Alrighty then.’ I pick up the menu. ‘Are you having a spicy marg? Isn’t that what all the girlies are drinking?’
‘I don’t drink alcohol.’
Now that is a surprise. ‘What’s your vice then?’
‘I don’t have one.’
‘Everyone has one.’
Her eyebrow kicks up. ‘What’s yours?’
I look plaintively at her. She catches on with a huffed laugh.
‘Mine’s probably a yumnut,’ she says.
‘What’s a yumnut?’
‘Half doughnut, half yum yum. Specifically from Marks & Spencer.’
‘Sounds disgusting.’
‘You don’t like sweet things?’
‘No, I’m a savoury guy, and there’s no way abs like yours have ever seen a… yummy, or whatever it is.’
‘You can have a sweet tooth and still enjoy exercise. I compete in Hyrox and have a reformer studio in my house, so if I want a yumnut, I have it.’
‘Who’s your Hyrox partner?’
‘Minnie’s mum.’
I snort. ‘Couldn’t get someone your own age?’
‘Don’t joke, she leaves me in the dust.’
It suddenly occurs to me that Minnie’s mom is Sir Cliff Roberts’ ex-wife, Cara Macklin. I can totally see her beasting Hyrox. Her ass is hella peachy.
‘Let me know when you’re next doing it. I’ll race you.’
She sips her water, holding eye contact the whole time, and fuck me if she doesn’t have me in a chokehold. ‘You’d be left in the dust, Cabrera.’
My junk wakens with a painful surge. ‘We’ll see about that,’ I force out.
I talk her through the Spanish menu and how Mexicans would typically eat. When I get to the tostadas section, I pause. ‘Did tostadas make it to the UK?’
Jules gives me a bored look. ‘We have fire and steam power too.’
‘Alright, alright.’
I order a range of dishes for the table – creamyguacamole con totopos,elotescovered incotija,queso fundidoscooped with crispy tortillas, four types of sauce, and a fuckton of tacos. I have this inexplicable need for her to love Hispanic culture.
‘I’m going to teach you, little only child, how to share,’ I say.
‘Who says I can’t share?’
‘Can you?’
