Page 6 of The Amazing Date

I can’t believe this. Only my best friend could get me to agree to something so ridiculous. My Uber pulls up to the Marriott Courtyard in Pasadena, and I spot the source of all my worries waiting by the entranceway, my text alerting him when I was three minutes out.

It’s been years since I’ve laid eyes on Roberto, our last meeting ending in fury and flames. He’s a bit taller, his thin frame filled with adult muscles and a pencil-thin mustache he somehow pulls off. Roberto, like his sister, is first-generation American. His parents and grandparents are from Puerto Rico, a land they both love, embrace, and cherish. He stands at nearly six feet, dark hair perfectly styled, with a five-o’clock shadow that looks as if he invented the look. Hollywood shades sit on the top of his head. LA looks damn good on him.

“We could’ve been here ten minutes ago if you followed my advice and left the freeway two exits back instead of sitting in that traffic,” I scold the driver and give him a three-star rating.

He doesn’t respond, merely popping the trunk from his driver’s seat, not moving an inch. Message received—get the bags your damn self. I shouldn’t have submitted so quickly; this is definitely two-star service shit.

I hop out of the car to find Roberto standing next to the door, my bag already in his hand. “Sorry about the traffic. Will Smith is shooting a movie down the way a bit. They had to close some of the exits, and traffic is all backed up. Just another day in LA. Welcome.”

I reach back to close the door, catching the driver’s eye roll. Whatever. “Thanks. Is Gabby all settled in the hotel?”

“Nice seeing you too.” His words drip with sarcasm.

I run my sweaty palms across the front of my shorts and continue to meet his gaze. It’s been four years, yet I’m still unprepared. “Right, you’re still here. I can get that.” I reach for my bag, but he shifts it to his other hand away from me. I go to reach around him, my chest bumping into his. The scent of coconut and pine fills my nostrils. His appearance may have changed, but not his scent.

My knees weaken as our eyes meet. I’ve stared for hours into these midnight eyes but now barely have the courage to steal a glance. His left eyelid flutters with indecision. “I got it. She’s up in the room, and may I suggest you take a quick shower. I don’t know if it’s the long flight from New York or your perfume, but either way…” He waves his hand across his nostrils and steps away from me.

And there is my answer. Since stepping off the plane, I wondered what type of reception I would receive from Roberto. Would he ignore me with the cold shoulder of indifference like the last time we were together before he hopped on a plane and ran away? Or would he continue with the passive-aggressive barbs we’ve traded through Gabby these last few years? Under no scenario had I prepared for him to listen to a sincere apology for my actions. This is something he’d made crystal clear to me three dozen times in the past.

I watch as he rolls my bag up the small ramp leading to the entrance of the hotel. “You coming, Miss Troublemaker?”

My travel flats stomp in his direction. “Oh, you break your sister’s foot, and I’m the troublemaker?”

We enter the hotel lobby, yet he flips his shades down to hide his eyes. He has a pretty good poker face, but his dark eyes always give him away. I brace. If he’s hiding his eyes from me, some truth is about to slip out his mouth.

“I already feel like shit, and Gabby’s been beating herself up ever since we left the hospital. I told her the two of you could stay at my place, but she insisted you had already planned to stay here tonight because of the competition launch dinner tonight and the early start tomorrow. Can we at least play nice when we are in front of her?”

It’s a good thing his eyes remain hidden. His truths always had a way of reaching me, hitting me hard. These are the most words Roberto has said to me in years. His sincerity and care for his sister is one of his most admirable traits. Always has been. It’s a trait he doesn’t extend to many, my invite destroyed years ago.

“Fair enough. I’m sorry for implying you’d do anything to hurt Gabby. I was frustrated.”

“When are you not?” His rebuke smacks hard. My instinct is to strike back, but I resist. I’ll need to bottle these emotions, at least for the time being. I’m here for my best friend. We signed up for this crazy competition to do something both of us need—to race around locked hip to hip for twenty-four hours a day, both of us feeling that post-college slow drift of a friendship that means so much to us. Living in two different cities hundreds of miles apart is not helping.

I took a job in New York, and Gabby surprised everyone by staying in Chicago. All through college, she complained about the wind, the cold, the gray days, and dark nights. I’ve been trying to get her to relocate to New York. My job has kept me too busy and her too far away. This competition was going to be our way of reconnecting, compacting years of travel and fun into a weeklong challenge. A competition spread out across five cities in four days. One that builds bonds in relationships, a link that can never be broken regardless of what the future may throw at us. At least that’s what they advertise, and the glowing Yelp reviews confirm.

Roberto and I ride in silence in the elevator. It seems to be the only mode we have that keeps us from bickering. I would ask him why he doesn’t care for me, but I already know the reasons. Stupid, impulsive moves I made when I was much younger. Stupid, impulsive moves that still ripple through our relationship today.

My guilty eyes avoid his, seeking out the floor, but stop at his right hand. The long, ugly scar across his knuckles reminds me why he hates me. Why, if he had any control, he’d never see me again.

This may be the last place in the world he wants to be, here next to me, but he does it for his sister. Their love for each other is a shining testament to what support looks like. A support that doesn’t exist in my life, except for the long-distance care provided by Gabby. The distance is too far, the touches too infrequent to thaw the frozen shell I’ve placed around me to protect myself.

For months I looked forward to this trip. Gabby and I planned everything down to this hotel stay and what we would eat over the next week. But when Roberto is in my orbit, plans have a way of going to shit.

Welcome to Day One.

Chapter 6

Roberto

I toss back another sip of imported beer and take in the scene at the hotel bar. I’ve wisely given the girls space and time to reconnect. Rylee’s discomfort with my presence was never more evident than the stone-quiet elevator ride up. Her being at a loss for words is a foreign look on her, that is, except for the last day on the island when I iced her out, giving her the cold shoulder. How are we ever going to survive this crazy competition Gabby guilted me into?

Seeing her emerge from the Uber was déjà vu, a throwback to the very first time I spotted her, emerging out of the ocean at the beach in la isla four long years ago. Gabby invited her to join our annual summer trip to spend time with our abuela in the hometown of our parents, Guánica, Puerto Rico.

Even though I thought I prepared for this moment, I knew better. There is no preparing for Rylee Reynolds. When she bumped into me, I did all I could do to not pull her into an embrace, her scent unlocking a vault full of memories of her in my arms. My chest tightened, and my only defense was my retort to give us space.

Being close to Rylee has always been a disastrous prescription for me. From those damn hypnotic brown eyes which see right through me to her ability to have me do things I would never in a million years do with anyone else. I am control, and she is chaos. She navigates my world easily while I lose myself in hers.

Which is why a multiday, team-based, relationship-building challenge makes no sense to me. Rylee and I aren’t in a relationship or have any interest in repairing one. I’ve stayed far away from her for four years for a reason.

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