Page 13 of Just My Type of wrong guy

“Was it hard?”

“Very hard!”

“Do you think it was worth it?” It’s not a simple question, she wants hope. But I can’t promise anything.

“I like what I have today.”

“And what are you seeing there?” Alexandra moves closer to me, leaning on the other side of the door and observing the most beautiful city in the world, with her hair tied in a low bun, wearing clothes she borrowed from Guilherme.

“Rio. It’s going to be hard to say goodbye,” I confess, but I shake my head, still trying to push those thoughts away. “But anyway, what are you doing today?”

“After three shows, in three days?” She laughs nervously. “Definitely resting.”

“We travel tonight, you know, right?” I ask, feeling the wind mess with my hair, and she nods. “And where’s Thalia?”

“She already left. Some people work Monday morning, you know?” Alexandra scratches her face, yawning.

I laugh at the image this woman paints of me. Of course, I know that. By this time, I’d already been tired of serving burgers in my old life.

“Well, even though you didn’t ask me what I’m doing today, I’m going for a walk around your wonderful city this morning.”

“Since when is eleven-thirty “morning”?”

“Don’t even go there,” I scold her, stepping away from the doorframe. “I was going to invite you to come with me.” I give her shoulder a playful nudge, only for Alexandra to swat my hand away.

“I refuse the invitation.”

“What’s the harm?”

“I need to rest.”

“Did you know you’re thecarioca[5] here? You could be a good host and give me a tour,” I tease just to drive her crazy, but to my surprise, Alexandra laughs with her eyes half-closed.

“I’ll talk to the head of security. Depending on what we can do, I’ll show you my city,” she says, turning and resting her hand on my shoulder. “And you, for God’s sake, get dressed.”

“What’s up, scared of not resisting my six-pack?” I smooth my abs, and she rolls her eyes but slides her hand down them.

“Yes, A.J.,” she rests her hand on my chest and sighs. “I’m really scared. Please, get dressed.” Alexandra pushes me and walks past, her oversized shirt swinging.

I look away from the hem of her shirt and stop asking myself if there’s more clothing underneath it.

***

Alexandra spins with arms wide in front of a green backdrop with a smile so beautiful that it seems like a moving painting.

“All right, Barbie Nutcracker, where are we?”

“AtParque Laje. You’re going to love this place!” she assures me, and Hammer, my head of security, steps forward.

“A.J., Alexandra, the tour manager asked me to give you the following message: You have one hour. It was very hard to close half of this place for you, even on a Monday,” he stresses, not specifically to either of us, then turns to me. “Don’t be disrespectful.” He deepens his voice, and I know that was the message James gave him.

“James is a pain.”

“But they’re right.” Alexandra nudges my shoulder with hers and walks through the park behind our wall of security. “Let’s go.”

“It’s so funny, back in the GenZ days we did this all the time. Closing places, walking with half a dozen security guards.” She laughs with the memories. “At least half the space will be empty, so it’ll be easy to control the madness if there is any.”

“I wish we didn’t have drama at this hour, but I know it’s almost impossible.”

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