Dad scowls and I roll my eyes.
"I think I'm done with good looking boys, Steve, thanks anyway!"
"Steven, seriously?" Dad scolds.
Steve shrugs and pulls Dad to the side.
"Well I'm just saying. You never know who might come her way, Marty. Like an old friend. Especially if, say, a well-meaning, fabulous step dad takes it upon himself to call a certain cute Mexican boy and send him airline fare and a cruise ticket..."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dad looks at Steve like he's lost his mind.
I look from Steve to behind Dad and sit bolt upright in my seat.
Because there he is. Manny. Wearing shorts and a tee shirt, his tanned skin glowing under the tropical sun.
Dad shoots Steve a furious look and grabs his elbow.
"What did you do?!"
"Jesus, weren't you listening?" Steve snaps. He pulls Dad away. "Come on, Marty. These two have a lot to discuss and you and I have a lot of exploring to do." He gives me a wink and then he and Dad are gone and it's just Manny and I, staring at each other.
Once again, Manny's face is unreadable as he slowly walks over to where I sit.
"Hey," he says softly. He shuffles his sandaled feet on the deck before looking back at me, his eyes hesitant. "You okay?"
For a moment I can't speak. But then finally I find my voice and I'm a little miffed to be honest.
"You never called. After you got my letter." My voice is accusing and I don't try to soften it.
He nods, twisting his lips. "Yeah, I know. I had to think about things."
I shut my book and set it on the table beside me. "And what conclusion did you come to?"
Manny frowns slightly. "Hey, don't get mad at me. You have no idea what I went through these last couple of weeks."
I burst out laughing and haul myself off the lounge chair. "Are you serious?! What do you think I went through? I wasn't out partying, Manny! I've been in hell because you wouldn't talk to me, and all I wanted..." Crap, I'm going to cry and I don't want him to see me crying. "I just...I wanted...you..." I start blubbering like a dumb ass and his gaze softens.
"I wanted you too, Taryn." He reaches up and wipes the tears from my cheek. "I want you now."
I sniffle and look at him through a haze of tears. "Y-you do?"
Manny laughs softly and pulls me into his arms. "Yeah, I do. I love you, Taryn. I was just really hurt that you didn't tell me the truth and then I over reacted. Because I was so fucking pissed about what Hayes did to you. And I took my anger out on you, and I'm so sorry."
I cling to him, burying my face in his strong chest. "I'm sorry too. I wish none of it had happened."
Manny gently lifts my face to his and brushes his lips over mine. "We can't change it, just like you said in your letter. It happened and no amount of getting pissed is going to unchange it. But we can move forward, together. Just like we'd planned."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He kisses me again, harder and longer and full of passion.
He sits back on my lounge and pulls me into his lap and there we stay, wrapped up in each other's arms, my face snuggled into his neck, just loving each other like we're the only two people in the world.
And in that moment, I think we truly are.
Chapter Eighteen
I'm rushing around, digging through my closet for the strappy flat sandals that go perfect with my short, summer dress. I love this dress. The minute I saw it on the rack at Macy's I had to have it. Manny likes it too, but not for the same reasons I do. I like the cute, summery print and the way the back is made up of all these little cords that fan across my bare back and come together at the neck. Manny just likes that the skirt comes up mid-thigh and how tight the bodice hugs my breasts. Perv.
Finally, I find one sandal and then the other, on Manny's side of the big walk in closet. How it got there is anyone's guess. I grin, looking at my boyfriend's clothes, most hanging half off the hangers or tumbling from the built-in shelves, his shoes in a big pile in one corner. My messy guy. God, I love him.
We've been living together for a year now, in this awesome three-bedroom apartment near the campus at Stanford. The first year at university had been hard. We both had to live in the dorms and we hated it. But at the beginning of our second year we were able to live off campus and Mom helped us find this cool place.
Our bedroom is large and roomy, which is good because Manny insisted on buying the biggest bed I think I've ever seen. It dominates the room and we spend plenty of time in it. I smirk, my eyes glancing at the messed-up covers. I did make the bed this morning, but then when we started dressing for the birthday fiesta at Manny's parents' house for his dad and... well, let's just say the bed got messed up again!
"Manny!" I call into the other room, hoping to hurry him along. No doubt he's either in the living room watching the game on our big screen TV (another Manny must have) or he's in the den working on his latest paper. I'm so proud of him, he's going to be the most incredible engineer in the world once he finishes college. I think he's doing better than I am with my psychology studies. But I have hope we'll both come out of Stanford with a degree and a wonderful future ahead. As long we head into that future together, I don't care what we end up doing.
I get no answer from Manny so I yell again as
