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“I do, I do.” We’re nearing the bridge, and I’m not surprised when he says, “You going to make it over the bridge okay tonight?”
“Ha, ha.” I do, however, take my hands out of the sweatshirt pockets. “Emina and I have talked about how dangerous this bridge can be if you’re intoxicated.”
“Considering you beefed it the other night, yeah, I’d say so.” We’re both quiet as we walk over the foot bridge, the sound of our feet against the engineered planks reverberating against the water underneath. It’s only after we’re off the bridge that our conversation picks up again. “Do you have siblings?”
Shaking my head, I put my hands back in the pockets. “Nope. Only child. Although Emina’s like a sister to me. She’s been my person since college.”
“So you two are close?”
“Very. Are you close to your family? Your sisters?”
“We are, except I’m the only one out here. My family’s in Montana.”
“Did school bring you to California, then?”
“It did. I like the weather. Haven’t felt like taking back true winters yet,” he chuckles.
“I grew up here. Well, not here, here, but in Temecula. It’s about an hour and half north.”
“I’ve heard of the city but have never been.”
“They have some neat wineries and resorts. I never really was interested in the tourist economy there, though. Just...lived there.”
