“You know stars and constellations and that’s just so … deep,” she says. “And so cool. You’re not just some handsome, muscle-bound soldier.”
I laugh. “Right. I’m human. With interests. Just like anyone else. Doesn’t make me special.”
Her head cocks. “It does in my book. You’re special, Isaiah. And weird. And complicated. And wonderful.”
“Anyway.” I wholly disagree with all of that, but I’m not in the mood to argue with a girl who thinks she’s right about everything all of the time.
“I hope you never change.”
“I don’t plan to,” I say.
“But if you do change, you know, I hope it’s for reasons that make your heart happy,” she says, sighing.
“Can you not?” I ask.
Her expression fades. “Can I not what?”
“Get all mushy and sentimental.”
She laughs. “Trust me. You haven’t seen mushy or sentimental. Anyway, just being out here with the stars and everything just makes me feel philosophical or something. I blame you. You brought me here. This is your fault.”
“Right. Because I control what comes out of that mouth of yours.” My eyes drop to her cherry red lips and my breath catches in my throat. I’ve never craved anything so badly in my life as I crave her strawberry taste on my tongue right now.
“Excuse me. You two finished with your telescope?” A surfer-looking guy with his two surfer-looking sons stands behind us, expression eager as his hands rest on their shoulders.
Great timing, dude.
“It’s all yours.” Maritza slips her arm into mine and leads me away, only several steps later and she’s yet to let me go. In fact, she’s holding on tight, and I don’t even know if she realizes it.
Everything about the way she touches me is so natural.
“We should pick a star,” she says as we walk.
“What? Why?”
Her eyes widen as she gazes above and her mouth curls into a cheesy grin. “I don’t know. So anytime you’re over there and you feel alone you can look at the star and remember this night.”
“Stop.” I scoff. “Only lame asses do shit like that. And I kind of feel like you’re starting to break your own rule …”
Maritza shrugs. “Tomorrow’s our last Saturday together. I guess it’s kind of hitting me in a way I didn’t expect. It went by so fast.”
“It did.” We walk side by side, slow, silently savoring our dwindling time together.
As soon as we return to my car, she folds her arms, leaning against the passenger door. “I’m not tired. Are you?”
My gaze falls to her mouth before lifting to her glinting eyes. “Nope.”
“Want to get a drink?”
“Why isn’t this stupid thing working?” It’s almost two in the morning and Maritza is pressing the remote to the gate so hard I think the stupid thing is going to fall apart in her hands.
“Maybe the battery’s dead.”
Glancing past my dash, she squints. “Think we can climb that? Maybe if you just hoisted me over …”
“You’re drunk off your ass. I’m not letting you climb a nine-foot iron gate. You’ll fall and hurt yourself.” I massage my temples.
I’m exhausted.
She’s wasted.
And all the flirting she did these last several hours did nothing more than gift me with a raging case of blue balls.
“Let me see if Melrose is up.” She grabs her phone, dropping it on the floor. Maritza giggles before finally managing to dial her cousin’s number. “Mel! Can you come outside? My remote’s not working and we need in … yes, I said we … Isaiah, who else? … I know … just come get us.”
I’m half able to make out what sounds like her cousin lecturing her about bringing strange men home, but at this point I couldn’t care less. After tomorrow, I’m never going to see Maritza or her cousin again and I’ve spent the better part of the past two hours convincing myself for the millionth time that I’m okay with that.
“Thanks, sweets.” She hangs up. “Mel’s coming. It’ll just be a minute.”
We sit in my idling car for what feels like a decade before the gate slowly opens and her cousin stands before us in a see-through tank top, red plaid shorts, a messy blonde bun, and a mint green face mask. Her arms are folded and she’s glaring at me, as if it’s my fault Maritza got so hammered.
Truth be told, I have no idea how this happened.
I paced myself. I thought she did too.
“God, I’m starving,” Maritza moans as I pull through the gate. “I should’ve had dinner earlier. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Oh, there we go. That’s how this happened.
“Want to order a pizza?” she asks, her face lit like it’s the best idea she’s had all night.
“You go ahead, I’m just walking you to your door then I’m taking off.”
Her hand rests on my forearm. “You’re not staying?”
I park in her grandmother’s circle drive, beside a trickling fountain surrounded by strategically placed up-lights.