Page 34 of His Secret
“Mexican,” Drew answers immediately.
“A margarita sounds good,” Andrea adds.
I shrug. “I’m happy with that.”
Drew and Andrea say they’re gonna drive there, but Matías wants to walk.
“It doesn’t make sense to drive two blocks away and struggle to find parking along the street that you’ll have to pay for anyway. We’re already parked in the garage here, and it’s not a long walk.”
I chuckle. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”
“I am gonna drop off my briefcase though.”
On the walk to the car, I debate trying to bring up the Halloween party again. I was surprised he brought it up in the first place, but besides mentioning our costumes, and some argument that happened between Johnson and Barlow, which I didn’t even remember, he didn’t say anything else.
The Halloween party was a significant moment in my life. The first time I’d given a blowjob, for one. And then later that night at his place when I realized I was falling for him.
“So, you remembered I don’t like sushi.”
“I shouldn’t have assumed. You could’ve had a change of heart. Sort of hard to keep up with what you like and what you don’t.”
Well, that didn’t go as planned.
“I’m still pretty much the same,” I say as we head out of the parking garage and onto the street.
He looks at me, his eyes roaming all the way down my body until they get to the ring on my finger.
“Hmm.”
I slip my hand in my pocket, and I don’t know why.
I study him as we walk to the restaurant, cataloging everything that’s the same, but also the differences as well. He’s still got what looks like silky smooth hair, though now he wears it in a more sleek, business style. I remember tugging on those strands many, many times.
He’s bigger now, and not just because he got older, butit’s clear he’s spent time in the gym, and he used to cringe when I’d invite him to workout with me.
The biggest difference is his personality. He was never one for people. I know he’d choose quiet nights at home versus parties and social events. He’s obviously still the same way, but he’s quite closed off. He’s stiff and serious. That’s not the Matías I knew.
When we walk into the restaurant, he peers around, looking for Andrea and Drew but they aren’t here yet. We grab a table for four and wait.
A waitress comes by to get our drink orders and to drop off a basket of chips with some salsa.
I expect him to ask for water, but he surprises me when he orders a margarita on the rocks. I order the same thing and wait for the waitress to leave.
“I didn’t think you were gonna drink.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve changed a little bit.”
“I can see that.”
His eyes find me, and it’s hard not to look at him like I don’t appreciate his beauty. I turn my head and pretend to watch a TV mounted over the bar.
“Who do you root for now?” he asks.
I turn around. “Huh?”
“You moved to Chicago. But you used to live here. I remember you telling me about a rivalry.”
I grin, happy that he remembered. “Right. Well, I adapted to life there in Chicago. I was a Bears fan through and through.”