Page 82 of Tito

Tito

Tito

We walked along the beach hand in hand. Every few moments the waves washed over our feet, cleansing them of the sticking sand. A few dozen steps would follow, covering our feet with the granular matter once again, only to be swept clean by the next wave that pulsed ashore.

I slowed my pace and watched a wave encompass our feet. “Not a bad way to spend a Sunday morning.”

When the wave receded, Reggie tugged against my hand, prompting me to continue our leisurely stroll.

“We should make this a ritual,” she said.

I couldn’t agree more. Holding hands while we walked along the water’s edge was oddly more comforting than I expected anything could be. I wondered if it was the atmosphere, or if it was nothing more than my sheer satisfaction with Reggie’s existence. Convinced it was the latter, I continued leading the way up the beach.

Satisfied with each other’s presence completely, we didn’t speak for some time. Half a mile—and two dozen waves—later, she broke the silence.

She gestured toward my legs with her eyes. “You look cute with your pants rolled up like that.”

I paused and scowled at her. “Cute?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Cute.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“It’s a compliment, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Although there had been no formal announcement, I’d all but moved in with Reggie. Since our first official night together, I’d slept in her bed nearly every night. Waking up next to her allowed me to realize what my life would be like with her in it. Furthermore, it gave me a good means of comparison to my former life.

The one without her in it.

Now that I had a taste of life with Reggie in it, returning to the way things were before I met her wasn’t an option. Not one I was interested in, at least. I couldn’t imagine waking up without her beside me. Every morning, as soon as I woke, I rolled to my side and confirmed her presence. Simply seeing her brought a huge smile to my face. One that lasted long enough to get me through the day.

“I never thought of myself as cute,” I admitted. “I can’t decide if I like it.”

“Well,” she said. “If you’re going to walk around barefoot with your jeans rolled up to your knees, get used to me saying it. You’re cute.”

“But not when I wear my boots?”

“When you wear your boots, you look like a badass.”

I laughed. “From badass to cute just like that?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Pretty much.”

“What about when I get out of the shower?” I asked. “Cute, or badass?”

“Out of the shower?” She smiled. “You’re irresistibly handsome.”

“But not cute?”

“Not at all. The only other time I can think of that I’d describe you as cute is when you shave.”

“When I shave?”

“Yeah. Like the way you look so serious when you’re doing it. You’re uber-focused.”

“Shaving is serious stuff,” I said with a smile.

“Try shaving your shin,” she said. “Or your ankles. That’s serious stuff.”