Page 67 of Hail Marry
“Isn’t it like 4 o’clock?” I say with a hint of amusement.
“Yeah. Are you not hungry?”
“I live in a constant state of hunger.”
She grins. “Same. So, where do we want to eat? Unless you’ve got other stuff planned…”
I shake my head, which is the truth. I don’t have any specific plans for my afternoon and evening beyond familiarizing myself more with the playbook and studying for finals. But even if I did have something exciting planned, I’d have shaken my head.
In fact, I can’t really think of a way I’d rather spend my afternoon off than with Tori.
And I don’t know how to feel about that.
16
TORI
“Are these amazing,or does everything just taste better while you’re on the beach?” I take another bite of my fish taco as we walk barefoot along the surf. The afternoon shadows are lengthening, and the sun, low on the horizon, casts a warm glow around the surfers bobbing up and down with each wave that rolls in.
Luca finishes chewing. “Both. I warned you they were good.” He takes the last bite of his taco.
When he said he was hungry, he wasn’t just saying it to make me feel better about eating dinner at the same time as a toddler has an afternoon snack. He’s eaten five tacos already compared to my two and a half, and I could swear he’s eyeing what’s left of mine. I can’t imagine how much sustenance is required to maintain a man of his height and build.
I take another small bite, then hand the taco to him.
He raises his brows. “You go on about how good it is, then you give it to me?”
“Gotta save room for dessert,” I say. “I have really high expectations for it now, just so you know.”
He chuckles and downs the second half of my taco like it’s a piece of popcorn.
I look around, breathing in the salty air. I don’t live all that far from the ocean, but somehow, I rarely make it there. There’s also just a different feel to the beaches in San Diego. They feel less chaotic, more…grounded.
I look at the houses that line this section of the coast.
“What a dream,” I say. “Can you imagine what it’d be like to look out your window and see this view? For this to be the soundtrack of your life?”
A huge line of kids in sopping wetsuits with surfboards tucked under their arms jog toward us while seagulls call above and little kids laugh and run from the waves. I can’t help comparing it to the soundtrack ofmylife: pings from work emails, the roll of my office chair wheels on the plastic floor cover, and my neighbor Mrs. Horton yelling at her husband every morning and evening—basically whenever he’s home.
Luca looks out over the scene. “I always dreamed of living by the ocean.”
“Really?”
He nods, smiling slightly as a mother saves her toddler from getting wiped out by a wave. “I grew up in the middle of Canada—about as far from the ocean as you can get.”
I narrow my eyes as I look at his profile. There’s so much I don’t know about him. I forget he’s Canadian, even though that’s the whole reason we’re in this marriage. “What brought you to the U.S.?”
He glances at me, then away. “My mom sent me to live with my grandma.” He says it in a flat voice, but I get the sense there’s more to it.
“To help your grandma out?” I ask, gently inviting him to expound.
He shakes his head. “My mom’s boyfriend wanted me gone.”
I blink. “Jeez. What a jerk.”
“Yeah. He was.”
I can’t say I think much of his mom, either, if she bowed to the guy’s pressure. If I had a son and my boyfriend wanted him gone, there’s no question which one of them would get the boot.
