Page 19 of All at Once

I nod eagerly. “I think mine now too.”

Enrique’s index finger accidently brushes over mine as he reaches forward to add another croquette onto his plate. He doesn’t even notice. While my chest tightens at the soft touch, that was so quick it might as well didn’t even happen. But it was enough for my brain to register it and certainlymorethan enough to make me almost forget what we’re talking about altogether, when I hear his voice again.

“If you add some basil on the side, it’s even better,” he suggests with a generous lick to his lips while finishing a bite.

Suddenly I feel a bit jittery, my heartbeat even louder than my thoughts. “Oh I eat basil with everything.”No I don’t. What am I even saying?With my now clammy hands I clarify, “I don’t mean with everything, everything. You could have it with everything, but I personally just like it with some things. I love Brazil though—I meanbasil.”

Now I’d like to cover my eyelids with basil leaves, pretending like I wasn’t even here.

Enrique holds onto his jaw, laughter filling his entire face, while I try to ease the tension in my veins at how I can’t seem to make much sense around this person.

At least now I know why my flirting wasn’t as horrendous a second ago. The disappointment from how he left earlier this morning must have lingered, temporarily influencing me to not overthink as much as I typically do.

I take another bite of the croquettes, hoping the room returns back to its previous temperature (prior to my memorable speech about the herb).

I notice Enrique reach down to the chair next to him. “So I was going through some old books that we read together in college and look what I found,” he says before he puts the same copy ofWuthering Heightsthat we annotated together freshman year next to my plate.

Too in my head earlier, I must not have noticed him carrying a book.

I instantly recognize the numerous Post-its that he previously marked throughout the pages. Just seeing the cover of the novel is enough to bring back even more nostalgia. “I see the sticky notes are still in place,” I tease, opening to the first page.

“I think it really makes the book come alive,” he expresses so artificially that it makes me laugh.

“Right. I know what you mean,” I joke while flipping through the book. “I still remember losing my damn mind at you highlighting every other sentence,” I add, tilting my head up at him.

“What? You said it yourself. It’s an important book with many important quotes,” he fakes obliviousness. “I just happened to make sure that I wouldn’t miss any of them.”

I snort at the memory. “I remember you highlighted the entire first page, and when I asked you why, you told me it ‘really set the tone for the second page.’ I don’t know why, but that still cracks me up to this day.”

“That’s because it does set up the tone for the second page, and the second page really sets you up for the third page,” he says with a gesture of his hand.

“Totally.” I chuckle. “Do you remember your favorite part of the story?”

“The movie,” he answers facetiously.

“You were doing so well,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“What about we meet in the middle with audiobooks?” he suggests.

I sit up eagerly. “You listen to audiobooks?”

“Oh no. I don’t,” Enrique replies so abruptly that it makes me giggle. Once he sees my reaction, he adds, “I was just saying what if we met there?”

“Actually though? If you don’t like reading that much, you might still like those,” I say. “That way you can listen to a story while you’re doing other things.”

“I don’t know.” He leans forward ever so slightly. “In that case, I’d much prefer to hear the story through the sound of your voice.”

I don’t know what comes over me, but for once my doubts aren’t holding my mind or body back as I lean in, matching his distance. “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m here then.”

He barely bites down on his bottom lip. “I guess so.” Seeing me try to conceal my smile, he grins softly and then asks, “So is there anything you were really looking forward to doing here?”

You. As if I’d ever say that to him. Or ever actually go through with it.

“I’ve always wanted to go to a nightclub in Europe,” I reply.

Enrique’s face lights up. “There’s a new one that just opened up a few weeks ago. I was planning on going tomorrow night actually. If you want we could go together?”

“Yeah. I’d love to,” I say with a smile.

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