Page 32 of Detour

I don’t bother showing him around since it’s literally one room, so we head out on the balcony to dig through our food.

“Did you get any limes?” Pretty sure the first rule in eating taco truck fare is one must have an abundance of limes. It’s downright sacrilegious otherwise.

Thankfully, Coty pulls out a takeout container with six lime wedges.

I look up at him blankly.

“What?”

“Where are yours?”

He laughs. “We can’t share these?”

At my incredulous look he hands them over, wisely choosing to go without.

Coty breaks the comfortable silence after a while.

“How are you? I thought you’d still be working.”

I wince, ignoring his question. “So did I. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night if I made you uncomfortable. You said you just want to be friendly, then I pressed the issue when I shouldn’t have. We like having you as a neighbor and I’m happy to be friends with you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid us.” He smiles sheepishly. “Or me specifically.”

I shrug a bare shoulder. “That’s reasonable. I like living here, too.” More than you know. “I just don’t want there to be any weirdness.”

“Zero weirdness,” he agrees.

“You won’t do your caveman routine?”

He puffs out a breath. “I’ll try my best, neighbor girl.” He winks, and I act like it wasn’t forced.

I thank him for dinner, then shift to my back, soaking up the last rays the sun is offering up for the day.

After a few minutes, I crack an eye to find Coty biting his lip, looking at the sliver of stomach peeking out between my white cut-off shorts and off-the-shoulder striped shirt. I pull my shirt down, watching as his eyes cut to mine. Busted.

He stretches out next to me on his side with his head propped up.

I close my eyes again.

“Tell me something.”

I hear him roll to his back. “Like what?”

“Anything you want, friend.”

He chuckles, but doesn’t indulge me right away.

At his prolonged silence, I open my eyes. His head is turned my way while he gazes over at me. I couldn’t look away if I tried, so I greedily take my fill of his saccharine eyes.

As soon as he speaks, I’m mesmerized by his relaxed voice. The calm cadence of his words soothes me in a way I didn’t realize I was craving. I never want him to stop. I tell him so and he obliges.

He tells me about his childhood. His school and the picture-perfect student he was even while riding dirt bikes like a hellion every weekend. He tells me about his job. He loves it but wants more. Something to give him more purpose.

He’s just getting to romantic relationships when Beckett yells from the parking lot.

We both sit up to find Beckett, Marc, and some girl standing next to the motorcycles. The guys are wearing their jackets with jeans but the girl is wearing tiny shorts and a tight tank top. Judging by the cheesy smile Beckett’s wearing, he’s more than happy with her attire. She’s putting on Beckett’s spare helmet and it reminds me of the time I wore it.

I tilt my face down on my knees watching them.