Page 73 of The Sweet Spot

We sit at the table and tuck into lunch, a sundry feast of tacos, burritos and freshly made chips and guacamole. Luca moans in pleasure, pointing at his food. “This was a good idea.”

“See? Told you it was the best.”

He nods, washing down his bite with a gulp of Tecate. “I thought I knew Santa Cruz, but you might be right.”

“Might be?” Scoffing, I point a chip at him. “I dare you to show me tacos better than these.”

“Challenge accepted.” His arches an eyebrow. “Come to the Bay, and it’s on. There’s a food truck in Fruitvale I’ve been going to since I was a kid…you haven’t had tacos like that. Ever.”

“Lucky for you, I like challenges. Especially when they involve food.” And cute boys.

“Then you’ll love this.” His eyes soften to a smolder. “It’s more of an invitation than a challenge, anyway.”

Biting back a smile, I shrug. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that soon.”

“You should.”

Our gaze holds. I’m burning up, from the salsa detonating on my tongue to the wicked flare of heat building much further below. Bringing my beer to my lips, I attempt to douse at least one flame.

Luca’s eyes twinkle, like he knows exactly how I’m feeling.

“Here.” I shove half a taco across the table. “Try the carnitas.”

He does, scanning the kitchen as he chews. “I like this. It reminds me of my mother’s kitchen.”

“How so?” I ask, curious as to how this might be. I don’t know if Luca comes from money, but Walnut Creek is a really nice neighborhood in the Bay area.

“It’s cozy, bright.” He fingers the yellow cloud-shaped napkin holder on the table. “Colorful.”

I look around, trying to see the familiar space through a new lens. “That it is.”

“Makes me feel like I know your mom, just from being here.”

“She’d love that you just said that.” Smiling, I cross my legs under the table. “It is very her. When I was a kid, she was forever going to flea markets and thrift shops and garage sales…I have so many memories of her stopping on the side of the road to pick up things people had put out for the trash. It used to really embarrass me.” I shrug, popping a chip into my mouth. “Then I got over myself. Besides, it became trendy and eco-conscious to get everything secondhand.”

“Mãe’s into that too,” Luca says, nodding.

I cast him a dubious glance. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. She loves estate sales and all that.” Luca winks, stealing the beef burrito we’re supposed to split. “Maybe you’ll see when you come for a visit. Shit, these jalapeños are hot.”

After lunch, I show Luca my old room. It’s indulgent, but it’s an interesting insight to who I once was—a museum of Wren. My childhood self, my teenage self; it’s a time capsule of the posters left on the walls, the books stuffed onto the crowded shelves, the souvenirs and keepsakes.

Self-consciousness prickles through me as Luca examines the old movie tickets, dried flowers, family photos and fangirl fodder stuck to my bulletin board.

“Aiden Winchester, huh?” He grins, pointing to a picture of the singing, dancing movie star I’d crushed on in ninth grade.

“Ha-ha.” I roll my eyes, yanking him away from there. Little does he know our boardwalk photo strips used to cover that very picture. “I’d like to see what sort of secrets your old room holds.”

“You’d probably have to hunt through the attic for the good stuff.” Hesnickers. “Or the dump. Mãe made me and Nico’s old rooms into guest rooms.”

“Nico’s your older brother, right?”

“Right. Daniel’s the youngest; he’s in junior high now.”

“Are you guys close?” I ask.

“Nico and I are.” He walks over to my bed and sits. “Daniel is Mãe and Dominic’s. By the time they had him, Nico was twelve and I was ten, so the age difference is pretty major. He’s a cool kid, though. We hang out whenever we can.”

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