Page 125 of Spring Break Fling

“Holy shit! I’m moving!”

I still had to tell my friends. They were going to shit their pants.

In a way, I was glad I was going to be too busy to miss him.

43

NIKKO

The smell of saltwater and stale beer hit me as soon as I walked into the bar. It was strange to be back. Strange but I wasn’t sure if it was good. Miami felt different. I saw the city through fresh eyes. I saw all the warts and wrinkles that I had blissfully embraced before.

It was as if returning to Miami was a step back, yet here I was, trying to reclaim something I wasn’t even sure I wanted anymore. I walked away from a woman that loved me. She was probably the only woman that had ever truly loved me. Samantha was obsessed with me. She wanted to possess me. She wanted to fuck me.

But that wasn’t love.

I found a spot at the bar and ordered a beer, my mind still reeling from the encounter with Hannah. Breaking things off with her had felt like the only choice in that moment, but doubt was creeping in. I’d been back a few days and had yet to sleep or really relax. I felt unsettled. Restless. Like my skin was too tight. Did I push her away because I feared holding her back, or because I feared she would hold me back?

The bartender slid the beer toward me with a nod. “Thanks,” I muttered.

Diego walked in a few minutes later. He slapped me on the back and took the seat next to me. “Well, look who finally dragged his sorry ass back to civilization,” he said.

The bartender brought him a beer before shuffling away.

“Missed me?”

“Like a rash,” Diego shot back, his grin widening. “So, how’s Boise? Full of potatoes and heartbreak?”

I took a long sip of beer, savoring the cold bitterness. “You could say that.”

“I thought you’d be bringing her back with you,” he said. “I was thinking you’d have a ball and chain, never to be seen in a bar again.”

“Not even close,” I said. Although it had been very close. But she chose otherwise. I was saving face by not admitting the truth. “How’s it going at the shop? I hope none of my enemies have been making trouble.”

“I haven’t seen or heard anything. Been quiet. Like real quiet. People come in looking for you all the time. When they find out you don’t work there anymore, they turn right back around and leave.”

“Yeah?”

“They all want to know where you went. When we tell them you’re not working anywhere, they get bitchy. They think we’re just being dicks not wanting to send business your way. I’ve had some words with a few of them.”

“Sorry about that,” I said.

We both knew I wasn’t sorry. It was nice to know people cared about my work. In a sea of generic tourist tattoos, some of my art actually meant something to people. They wouldn’t get passionate and angry if they didn’t care.

Diego laughed, the sound rich and carefree. “Don’t sweat it, man. It’s actually kind of entertaining, keeps the days from becoming too monotonous.”

I nodded, taking another sip of my beer, letting the cool liquid calm my thoughts. My eyes scanned the dimly lit bar, recognizing a few faces. This was my world. I didn’t belong in Hannah’s world sitting around, eating lasagna, and playing cards with her family.

“Man, you don’t look thrilled to be back,” Diego commented, studying me more closely now.

I shrugged. “Maybe I just need to get out of Miami for good.”

Diego raised an eyebrow. “And go where? Back to Boise? You gonna turn into a potato farmer?”

“Maybe,” I said, half-joking.

He shook his head, chuckling. “You need something to shake you up. Miami’s too small for you now, brother.”

“It certainly feels smaller,” I said.