Page 30 of Dirty

I was still in awe watching him cook. I grabbed the plates nonetheless, and set them at his side.

He carefully placed the tortillas on the plates, added the meat, and then the vegetable mixture he made.

I grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Here.”

He looked at the beer, and then at me. “Is you mom going to be mad if you--”

“It’s okay. I’m twenty-one now.”

“Oh. Shit, I missed it. When was it?”

“It’s right now.”

His brow wrinkled. “Today?”

I grabbed a plate. “Yeah. Today. C’mon.”

We walked into the living room and sat side-by-side on the couch with our plates in our lap. I looked at the tacos and realized he didn’t add lettuce or cheese.

“There’s no lettuce or cheese.”

“Try it like that,” he said.

I shrugged and reluctantly took a small bite.

“Jesus,” I said after I swallowed. “That’s good.”

He wagged his eyebrows.

I took another bite, and instead of enjoying the time we were spending together, I wondered what his faults were. Everyone had them. I didn’t want him to simply eat and leave. I wanted him to stay for as long as I could convince him too.

Without offering sex, I knew there’d be very little to persuade him to stay, and I wasn’t about to offer sex. I didn’t want him to go, and I needed to come up with something.

I took another bite of the taco and then it came to me. “Do you watch T.V.?”

He looked up from his plate. “Some, yeah.”

“Have you ever watched Californication?”

“Nope.”

“It’s got David Duchovny in it, and it’s pretty good. Want to watch a little of it?”

“Sure.”

I started the series as we ate.

We finished our tacos, had a few beers and sat together on the couch watching the show. Before I knew it, we’d watched the entire first season, and six hours had passed.

“Holy shit,” I said. “It’s almost midnight.”

He raised his arms high in the air and stretched. “That’s a good show. There’s more?”

I nodded. “Seven seasons.”

He looked at his watch. “It’s 11:45. We’ve got 15 minutes before your birthday’s gone. Want to go for a quick ride before it’s over?”

The show we were watching was about an author who was addicted to sex, and even had a fling with a girl two decades younger than he was. During the six hours that we watched, Cholo hadn’t come onto me, flirted with me, or made even a sexually suggestive comment.