Page 79 of Nacho Boyfriend

“Does it still scare you?”

“No. Not at all.”

I stroke her cheek, dragging a thumb across her bottom lip. I could adore her all day, but the night is falling fast.

I steal one last kiss before we have to go back to the house, taking in my fill of her, willing it to last as long as possible. When we part, her lips are plump and rosy. I need a moment or two before leaving this slice of paradise. We touch foreheads and catch our breath for a minute, soaking in this new reality. We haven’t defined terms yet, but that can wait. For now, we’re just enjoying it.

I dip my gaze down to the ground to get my bearings, and that’s when something dark catches my attention. I blink to make sure my eyes are adjusted to the low light, thinking it’s just a shadow. But as my focus becomes clearer, I’m aware it’s definitely something else.

“Olive? I don’t want you to be alarmed, so please don’t move a muscle.”

She freezes. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course, when you say it like that, I’m going to be alarmed.”

“Just… hold still. It’s not a big deal. Probably harmless.”

“Okay, now you’re just plain scaring me.”

I hold up my hands. “There’s a scorpion on your foot.”

“A whaaat?”

“Please, just remain calm and don’t make any sudden moves.”

“I’m calm. I’m so calm. I am a pillar of calmness.”

I reach into my back pocket for my Altoids and open the tin. There are about six or seven mints left.

“I need you to eat three of these.”

“How is minty fresh breath going to help with a dang scorpion on my foot?”

“How big do scorpions get? It looks small from here.”

“Maybe it’s a baby scorpion, and he’s lost his way.”

“I’m going to trap it in this tin. Put three mints in your mouth and I’ll take the rest.”

I pop four mints and chew them to bits. Olive takes her three, but prefers to suck on them.

“Okay. It’s probably just a baby scorpion. Take a calm, minty breath and don’t even think about it.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Okayeeee.”

I slowly take to one knee, carefully hovering over Olive’s sandaled foot so as not to alert the scorpion. I’m surprised she didn’t feel it crawl on her, actually. I have to be swift about this. I don’t know a lot about scorpions, but I don’t want to take a chance it might sting Olive’s foot if it feels threatened.

With measured, steady movements, I bring the tin closer and closer, and then with a quick sweep, I capture the little bugger, snapping the tin shut. Part of his feet get stuck on the outside, but the tin mostly closes all the way.

“Got him!”

Olive un-squeezes her eyes and looks down at me.

“Ewww. He’s halfway out.”

“It’s okay. He’s trapped in there. Look.”

I hold up the tin to show her the scorpion isn’t going anywhere and she squeals, her hands flying to her mouth. Now I just need to figure out what I’m going to do with the thing.

I’m still on the ground, weighing my options between killing this arachnid or setting it free, when a robust cheer comes from the house. Olive and I turn to look at what could have caused such a racket, and realize it’s my entire family cheering for us, jumping up and down, and heading our way.

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