Page 23 of Not My Fault

“Fine, I guess I’ll let my partner pay for me.” I fake an eye roll and Gus laughs.

“Hey! Gus!” The man in the truck recognizes Gus and gives them a big smile. “Your usual?”

“Yes please, and whatever she wants. It’s date night.” Gus winks and the guy smiles.

“You’re very lucky; Gus never brings anyone to my truck. You must be someone special,” the man says.

Before I can speak, Gus adds, “She is.” My gaze darts to them and Gus smiles at me longingly. My stomach turns to butterflies, and I have to shake the feeling away. What the hell is happening?

“I’ll have three chicken tacos and a side of Guacamole and sour cream, please,” I say.

“Coming right up,” the man says, and Gus hands them a twenty, then places a five in the tip jar—which is really just an old container with a hole cut in the top.

“You really never bring anyone here? I thought you had a thing with someone?” I ask quietly as we step to the side to wait for our food.

“I did, but I don’t bring just anyone here. It’s my favorite food truck in the city.” Gus shrugs.

I don’t know why that has such an effect on me. But before I have a chance to overthink about it, the food is ready. We’re handed an open container with tacos that smell divine. I outwardly groan.

“Yeah, and they taste just as good.” Gus smirks.

“Where are we eating these? Is there somewhere to sit?” I look around but I don’t see anywhere.

“Nope, we eat them right here. If you try to find somewhere they get cold.”

“I can’t exactly eat tacos one handed on the side of the street,” I say.

“Yes, you can, try it,” Gus insists and waits for me to try.

I let out a deep breath and hold the plate with one hand and lift a taco with the other. It’s hot and some of it drips out onto the plate, so I hold it tighter. Pulling it to my mouth, I smell the mix of cilantro, salsa, avocados, grilled chicken, and sour cream mixing together. I take a larger bite than I normally would, and the food melts in my mouth. Holy shit, Gus is right. This might be the best taco I’ve ever had. *insert lesbian joke here* But seriously, it’s that good.

“So?” Gus prompts.

“It’s amazing.” I nod.

Gus smiles and digs into theirs. I watch as they hold it over the plate so if any food falls out, it lands on the other tacos. I do the same, holding it a few inches from my body to make sure it doesn’t fall on my dress either. I’m eating the last taco when I get sour cream all over my face. I can’t help but laugh as Gus notices and tries not to laugh, holding out a napkin, but I have no hands to take it. They wipe the sour cream off my face and we’re both in hysterics.

“Thank you, I’m not so sure a photo of me with white stuff all over my face would go over well with my manager,” I joke.

“Definitely would make people confused about us.” Gus laughs.

We finish our tacos and grab two bottles of water. I’m drinking mine when I catch Gus looking at my chest. I’m about to say something when they catch my gaze.

“I realize it looks like I’m checking out your chest, but in reality, I’m trying to make sure your tattoo is healing okay.” Gus blushes.

“I bet that’s what you tell all the girls,” I tease.

“I swear! I only ever see tattoos months later, if that. I just wanted to make sure there are no issues,” Gus explains.

I decide to tease them, pulling my dress down slightly so they can see a little more of my tattoo. I’m not wearing a bra, so they can probably see even more than I realize. “How’s it look?” I ask innocently.

Gus gulps, their eyes looking anywhere but at me while their cheeks turn a bright red. “Looks good.” Their voice cracks and I lose it.

“Anyway, would you like to go somewhere else now?” I ask.

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“We can just walk until we see something to do.” I shrug.

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