Forever Baby (6 page)

During my freshman year, my communications professor had us complete a grateful diary. For the course of the semester, we were required to write down three things that we were grateful for every day. As part of our final, we were instructed to write a paper on the diary. Obviously, the ultimate goal of the project was to point out what a little bit of gratitude could bring to our lives.

That project impacted me deeply, and I vowed to keep up my grateful diary for the rest of my life, so the greatness would never be outshadowed by the negative. My vow lasted almost a week after the semester ended. Nonetheless, from time to time, I still think about that professor and how he helped me to see the power of being thankful.

So, today, I think of three things that I am grateful for at this very moment. First, I am grateful for student loans because they provided the funds to take this trip. Second, I am thankful that I live in a world where such diversity and beauty exist. Most importantly, I am grateful for Nolan for giving me the strength to face all my silly anxieties and for empowering me to try something new.

I wake up in a fog, lying facedown, with my face smashed against the pages of my Spanish book. I grab my cell and see that it’s seven in the evening. I then hear music coming from the other side of my door. Peering in the mirror, I wipe off the smudged mascara and rub my cheek to smooth out the creases left by the crumpled pages of the book.

Sluggishly, I make my way to the living room and abruptly stop mid-step. My mouth falls open when I see
him
. He’s sitting on the couch, strumming a guitar and singing. I jerk my arm out and push it against the wall in case I fall over from the shock of seeing him here in my house.
He’s singing? Playing a guitar? Seriously?
I steady myself and watch him like a stalker.
What is it about a sexy man
playing a guitar?

He’s wearing a tight black shirt that clings to his perfect body. I watch his fingers dance over the strings while the guitar rests on his thigh. Even his hands are turning me on, and I have to stop myself from imagining what they would feel like against my body.

When he tilts his head up, meeting my stare with his dark blue, almost gray eyes, it dawns on me that my mouth is still wide open. I think I see a faint smile cross his lips as he continues to sing. I pull it together and close my mouth, steadying myself so that I don’t need the wall to hold me up. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me. My presence doesn’t appear to affect him as he continues to play.

I am glued to this spot as I assess the situation. Gorgeous Guy is sitting on the couch with three other guys. One is my host brother, and the other two—well, I know I met them last night, but I can’t remember their names. One of them is also strumming a guitar, and all four are singing. It’s a very sexy-sounding song, all in Spanish, and I’ve never heard it before. When the god with the dark blue eyes sings, his voice cuts through me. He has a direct line to the area between my legs. Images of throwing his guitar to the floor and straddling his hot body while I lick every inch of his toned, tan body race through my head.

Wait, what the fuck is happening to me? Rational people do not react this way to someone they’ve never met, do they?
I know I’ve never felt this way about a man, especially from simply being in his presence.

I jump when Nadia speaks, “They’re really good, right?”

Turning, I see she’s standing next to me, and I nod.

“They get together and play all the time. They do a few gigs at bars around town, but basically, they play for fun.”

“Who is the guy in the black shirt?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t hear the breathiness in my voice as I glance at Mr. Blue Eyes.

“That’s Andres, and the one to his left playing guitar is Hugo.”

Of course that’s Andres.
Carlos’s warning rings in my ears.

Hugo has longer, above the shoulder, tousled, dark blond hair and striking brown eyes. His face is covered with short stubble, and it gives him a hot bad-boy look.

“And the shorter one on the chair next to Carlos is Julio. Carlos and I have gone to school with all those guys since we were five.”

“Oh,” I say with unexaggerated interest.

The guys finish the song and begin joking among themselves. Nadia walks toward them, and somehow, I make my legs follow.

Andres speaks directly to Nadia, “Hey, we’re heading over to La Jolla. Do you and your friend want to join us?” He doesn’t even glance my way.

“Sure.” Nadia beams. “You’re up for a trip to a bar, right, Livi?”

“Um…yeah,” I manage to squeak out.

Andres directs his attention back to the guys without acknowledging me.

I return to my room and put on my favorite skinny jeans, black boots, and a black tank top. I let my hair out of the messy bun and brush it out. It’s wavy, kinky, and disheveled, but it appears almost as if I planned it. I snap a hair tie around my wrist in case I need to pull it up into a ponytail later. I reapply mascara and pink lip gloss, and then I make my way to the living room.

The bar is located right around the corner from our street, so it’s a short walk there. Once inside, we grab a spot in the far corner and order a bucket of beer that is quickly delivered to the table. La Jolla is a simple bar with red leather bench seats and wooden tables. Music is playing, but no one is dancing.

Hugo hands me a beer, and we start chatting. He’s a charmer and a very funny guy. I know he must be popular with the girls, especially with his creamy chocolate eyes begging to be noticed. He has a European bad-boy-rocker appeal going on, if that is such a thing. He makes sure I always have a beer in hand, and I have a feeling he has ulterior motives. Based on what Carlos said, I’m sure I’m correct in that assumption, but I’m grateful because the beer is helping me to relax.

I get the courage to peer across the table at Andres, and I’m met with his intense midnight-blue stare. I immediately turn away, blushing.
What the fuck?
I can’t take that stare of his burning into me for longer than a second. As we all sit and chat, I don’t attempt any more glances, but I can feel his gaze penetrating the skin of my face as the night wears on.

Everyone seems interested in me, asking questions about every facet of my life. It’s nice that this group of people seems to genuinely want to get to know me—well, except for Andres. It doesn’t slip by my attention that he hasn’t asked a single question, and through my peripheral vision, I see him absently staring at his bottle or around the room when I speak. I’m left feeling confused and irritated. So, he’s either staring daggers at me or avoiding me like the plague.
I don’t get it.

Hugo’s voice breaks through my brooding thoughts. “So, beautiful American girl, tell us more about you. What is your family like?”

“They’re wonderful. My parents are very supportive. My brother, Max, is three years older than me, and we’re very close. We always have been. You’d like him.”

“What is your brother like? Is he outgoing or quiet? You know, what is his personality like?” Nadia asks.

I laugh. “He’s definitely not quiet. He is always the life of the party, like Nolan, except my brother is a little cockier than Nolan. He’s a total charmer, especially with the girls.”

“Is he cute? Does he resemble you?” Nadia asks with interest.

I pull my iPhone from my purse and pull up the most recent photo of him. I grin as I study the photo of Max and me at my apartment. After getting home from a club, Max’s arms are wrapped around me, and he has a wide grin. I am laughing. I can’t remember what about. It was probably at something crass that came out of his mouth. He is not one for subtlety.

Grinning, I hand my phone to Nadia. “I don’t know. See for yourself. Growing up, all my friends always had a huge crush on him.”

Nadia takes my phone and peers at the screen. “Yeah, he is pretty hot,” she says with a mischievous grin. “He looks nothing like you though.”

My pale skin and light features are a complete contrast with Max’s darker complexion. Our blue eyes are similar, but they’re a mere coincidence. My parents adopted Max when he was four, and I was only one, so he has been a part of all my childhood memories.

Hugo glances at the phone screen and gives an indifferent shrug.

I take a sip of my beer and then direct my comment to him. “I’d say you two are very similar in personality actually.” I give him a teasing glance.

Hugo laughs. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Depends.” I take another drink of my beer.

Carlos cuts in, “Hell no, it isn’t a good thing, Hugo. She’s saying you remind her of her girl-crazy brother.”

“With your motives, I’d say that’s definitely a bad thing, man. She’s on to your game,” Julio says.

“Hey, who said I have motives?” Hugo feigns innocence.

“Oh, Hugo, let it go. Olivia doesn’t want anything to do with your slutty ways,” Nadia interjects with a glare.

He holds his stare on her for a moment, but he doesn’t respond to her comment.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here for the summer. You seem cool,” Hugo says to me.

“Thanks, Hugo. You seem cool, too.” I grin and clink my beer bottle against his. “Cheers to a fun summer.”

The conversation carries on around the table. Andres’s whole vibe is disarming to me. One minute, he’s staring at me with the intensity of a nuclear bomb, and the next, he’s doing everything in his power to ignore me.

I thought I felt something at the club.
Could it have been all me? Am I reading into our stare-down that first night?
I must be.

I’m sure he has the choice of any girl in Seville. It has to be all in my mind. It’s a downright shame that my intense attraction doesn’t seem to be reciprocated.
Total bummer.

The next morning, I walk with Nadia to school. The university was founded in 1551, and it has a very historic feel. The school is located next to the Plaza de España where Nolan and I were yesterday.

In front of the languages building stretches a large, rectangular grassy yard with old, tall trees and trimmed bushes. Students are spread sporadically around the garden, standing and chatting in groups, studying in the grass, or reading near the trees. The bright green lawn area generates a feeling of community. I could see how studying under a tall oak would be peaceful.

Walking along the sidewalk snaking around the school, I notice stone statues alongside the building and gardens. It feels like I’m about to enter an art museum or ancient palace as I pass lampposts that guide me toward the language department. Immediately, I see Nolan inside the door, waiting for me next to the stone staircase. His face lights up, and he heads my way. When he reaches me, he grabs my hand and pulls me in for a kiss on the cheek.

“How was your night?” he asks.

“It was fine. I went out with Nadia and her friends to a bar down the street from their house. It was fun,” I say. “How was yours?”

“It was good. I hung out with my roommate and some of his friends at the apartment. It would have been more fun if you were there,” he answers with a sheepish smile.

“Ditto,” I agree.

Nolan has a way of calming me. I know I would not have felt so awkward around Andres if Nolan had been with me.

Studying a language is not always fun. Nolan and I tested into the advanced Spanish class. Our instructor, Professor Gomez, is a short, round man with black hair and a beard. His dark brown eyes light up when he smiles, which is often. He’s quite funny. He’s one of those people you can’t help but like. I know he’ll make the summer classes more enjoyable.

We have two classes with Professor Gomez, separated by a break, and then Nolan and I head back to my house to study. Lying on my bed, we are sprawled side by side on our stomachs busy with translations homework. After the completion of our schoolwork, we enjoy a lovely afternoon siesta.