Roatan Plunge | Love Travels #2

Sixteen - Óscar

I can tell this impromptu outing is irritating Lorena because she's not working to hide it even a little bit. Enrique and Bianca's decision to join us is also irritating Lorena, but she's trying to hide that one because the reason she's irritated is she wants to know the result of a vote we definitely aren't holding.

Me? I'm already pretty sure I know who's won. So I'm just happy to have one more night of pestering her before it all goes away. And I squander the entire bus ride there by sitting in my chair and staring at Lorena.

Marcia clears her throat when we arrive. "Get it together, primo," she whispers as she steps over me to walk down the aisle and through the rickety folding doors.

I said I know a guy with a bus, not a luxury vehicle. I'm just grateful my mother never found out what was going on because she would have tagged along and she would have had commentary on what type of vehicle it's appropriate to be seen in.

She'd also probably have commentary on the idea of a band dance in the first place. There's dancing and music and food and only the last one is guaranteed to be actually good, but it's so fun.

And the fun is clearly getting to Lorena as she steps off the bus with Carla, Divya, and Bianca and spins around to the music floating through the air.

The doors of Turtle Lagoon are wide open, a welcoming smell of barbecue drawing us in even as the twangy island version of a famous Reggaeton song plays out over the chatter of the crowd.

"It smells so good," Lorena sighs, looking over at the table where Miss Emmeline is serving up her wares. Her daughter's beside her, long past learning the craft and probably trying to take over and let her mom have some retirement. We all know it's never going to work, but bless her for trying.

"Let's go get some," Bianca agrees, threading her arm through Lorena's, her sparkling engagement ring drawing my attention to her hand as it threads past the small cutout on Lorena's side.

I don't even know how I got to the table, drawn to her like some old married man instead of... never mind.

But I only make it in time to see Miss Emmeline packing up her wares. One plate rests on the table and I race toward it, but I'm too slow and a man swoops out of nowhere to snatch it for himself.

"It was reserved," Bianca says. Lorena is glaring at me like I stole her favourite dress.

"Oh." It's an underwhelming response, but I don't know what I did to deserve the death glare the girls are all shooting me.

"Not everything is just waiting around for the famous Óscar Calderon to get what he so richly deserves," Lorena sighs, rolling her eyes. "We were here before you, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." I clip back. "But people come out of nowhere at these things. I was going to get it for you."

Her jaw slackens. "Oh, uh, well, it was reserved." A blush rushes into her cheeks and she grabs Bianca by the hand and races off into the crowd, weaving through people until I lose track of her deep brown curls.

She thinks I'm one of those assholes who needs what he wants when he wants it. And maybe I am, but tonight I'm also one of those assholes who wants to give her everything she could dream of. Even if I shouldn't.

And no matter how much Lorena wants to convince me money doesn't solve problems, it sure as shit will solve this one.

Lord help me if Marcia catches on to how much money I'm about to drop for this. Or Enrique. I will never live it down.

After a quick glance to make sure they aren't right behind me, I press between the wall and the table holding the pots and pans and plates and tap Miss Emmeline's daughter on the shoulder. "Excuse me."