Page 174 of Raspados & Regret

He laughs and I catch his jaw and kiss him before the sound can get too far.

This is not like last summer. We’re no longer two men franticly trying to hide from the world. It is worse now because I know the exact sound he makes when I bite his lip. I know he likes my hand at his throat but only when he can see my face. Because I know he cries during animated movies and pretends he has allergies.

I know he hates green olives, steals my socks, talks in his sleep, and once tried to fight a spider with a chancla and a prayer.

I know him and I love every single part of him.

The kiss deepens and his hands fist in my shirt. Mine slides to the hem of the yellow shorts.

He pulls back, breathless. “Seriously? Here?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“You sure?”

“No.”

He grins.

I grip the fabric and tug him close. “Let’s go home.”

His grin fades into something hotter. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” I groan into his neck. “Now stop testing my patience before I push you up against that trailer and change my mind.”

I bite his jaw, and he shivers.

“Take me home, papi.”

“I’m gonna be taking those shorts off.”

He laughs again, but this time it is breathless.

When we get back to the booth, both families know exactly nothing happened and exactly everything almost did.

My tía hands me a foil container. “Leftovers.”

“Gracias.”

She looks at Elías. “Don’t keep him up too late. He opens the shop tomorrow.”

Elías gives her his angel face. That face has lied to more adults than I can count. “Of course, tía.”

My tío says, “Mentiroso.”

Elías gasps. “Tío. You doubt my intentions to have your nephew at work on time.”

“Absolutely.”

Anita hugs him goodbye and whispers something in his ear that makes him shove her away with a laugh.

Julio tells me, “Good luck with that one.”

I look at him, and he nods at Elías. “Runs in the family,” he says solemnly.

Anita smacks his chest. “You love this family; stop acting like you don’t.”

“I do. Under protest.”