Neither of them said anything as he led her by the hand down the dock, around the back of the restaurant and through the empty parking lot, presumably to avoid having to say goodbye to Buddy and explain why she was crying.
‘Put this on,’ he said, taking his jacket off as they came up to his bike. ‘I think it’s gotten colder.’
She nodded, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She couldn’t look at him for fear she might break down once again.
He got on the bike and offered her his hand. Without another word, she climbed on behind him, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his waist as he started it back up. The past two hours had been so good, but now everything felt awkward and clumsy. Out of place. Almost as if he’d read her mind, Lat reached down and took her hands once again in his own, rubbing them with his fingers before tucking them up under his shirt, like he had before. Only this time, it was his bare chest that she felt move under her fingertips. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his back, unsure what to make of her feelings again – or his – as he took off out of the parking lot.
Instead of heading to 595 and back down to Miami, like she was sure he would, he passed the airport and turned east onto a deserted Dania Beach Blvd. At AIA – the two-lane beach road that ran down the entire east coast of Florida – he headed south toward Miami. It was well past midnight and the sleepy highway – normally packed with tourists and sun worshippers – was unusually empty and quiet, the beachfront restaurants and T-shirt shops all closed up for the night. If she’d been with anyone else, even Rick, she would have definitely felt a bit anxious – not knowing exactly where she was or where they were going – but with Lat she felt surprisingly relaxed. She thought of that crazy day in court months back – his words to her in those panic-stricken moments right before the competency hearing. Trust me.
The same moon from Southport followed them as they drove along the beach, past seaside motels with flashing neon vacancy signs mixed in with the occasional high-rise Holiday Inn. She inhaled the salty sea air that she loved so much, watching the black waves break white against the shore. She could almost hear the waves calling her.
‘Can I help?’ Julia asked.
Andy looked up at her from his trench in the sand, his eyes squinting against the sun.
‘Mom said to tell you I can help.’
He shrugged, but only because he had no choice and he knew it. ‘If you want.’
‘Whatcha making? A hotel?’ she asked.
‘The Colosseum.’
‘The what?’
‘The Colosseum. It’s in Italy. It’s like a stadium, like a really old baseball stadium.’
Wow. She could see it now. A stadium. That was so cool. ‘Can I make the concession stands, like they have at the softball fields in Eisenhower Park?’
‘No,’ he sighed. He thought for a moment while she stood there. Then he motioned for her to come into the trench with him. He took her hands in his and carefully guided her to where he was carving the seats. ‘You have little fingers. That’s good, Ju-Ju. Real good. You can make the tunnels …’
Julia closed her eyes. Why had she denied him?
They said nothing along the ride, even at the lights. But the awkwardness was gone now, replaced by this silent, scary, electric energy between them. She didn’t let go of his waist, even when she could have, and he didn’t move away. She could feel his heart beat under her fingers. When he suddenly turned off AIA onto Stirling, she knew where he was going, even before he pulled into the parking lot of the Conquistador Apartments.
He shut off the engine and stepped off the bike. She stared at him. ‘My car—’ she began to say.
‘I’ll take you in the morning. I don’t want you to have to drive tonight. It’s real late and it’s a long way to Miami, Toto, so don’t even think of putting on your running shoes. It’s my bad that you ended up all the way up here, anyway.’ He held his hand out to help her off.
There was no point in arguing with him. And the truth was, she didn’t want to. She nodded and took his hand, climbing off the bike.
They walked in silence up the stairs of her building to the second floor, their fingertips still lightly locked. ‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked quietly, looking down at the doorknob after she’d slid the key in. This was how it had started with Rick. The ill-thought-out invitation. But she’d never felt like this when Rick touched her.
‘I’d love to,’ he said.
She turned and looked back at him in surprise. Her heart pounded furiously.
‘But I’d better not.’
‘Oh,’ she said, hoping she didn’t sound disappointed. Hoping he couldn’t read her thoughts, but knowing he probably already had. She felt so exposed with him. He was standing close to her, just a few inches away. She could smell the faint scent of his cologne.
‘Look, I’m sorry about before—’ he started to say.
She shook her head, not wanting to go there again. ‘Don’t be. Thanks again for dinner.’ She slipped off his jacket and reached over to kiss him goodbye on the cheek, but hesitated, her mouth lingering for a moment against his skin, and neither of them moved. His five-o’clock shadow felt like a fine sandpaper under her lips. She stepped closer, her body touching his, as her lips softly brushed his face, finding his mouth. She felt his warm hands on her shoulders, pulling her even closer, his fingers pressing into her back. His lips were very soft; his tongue tasted like beer. She remembered how her fingers had felt against his chest, how it felt to touch his heartbeat. The kiss lasted just a few seconds before he pulled away.
‘Whoa,’ he said, backing up slightly. He shook his head. ‘I don’t do rebounds, Julia. They never work out in my favor.’
She didn’t know exactly how to feel right then, but if she could use one word, it would probably be empty. She watched him walk off down the stairs and she wished once again that she could do the impossible: that she could undo time. She listened to his motorcycle start up across the parking lot and then fade away as he drove off. Then she went inside her apartment and cried. But it wasn’t over Rick Bellido.
When she woke up the next morning, her car was parked in the lot downstairs and John Latarrino was nowhere to be found.