Page 6

Layla

I’ve been sitting in Congdon Hall drinking coffee and studying for the better part of an hour when I decide to stretch my legs. Gathering my books, I shove them in my messenger bag, grab my cup, and head out the door. It’s the perfect fall day. Beams of sunlight are peeking through passing clouds, and the air is crisp, blowing gold, red, and orange leaves along the sidewalk. I turn toward the amphitheater, choosing the scenic route over the quicker path. Just as I set foot on the small bridge that extends over the pond, I hear my name being called.

Whipping my head around, I see Teagan jogging towards me, grinning broadly. The dimple on the left side of his mouth makes him even more adorable than he already is, and the green Seahawks hoodie he’s wearing accentuates his already brilliant emerald eyes. Sunlight brings out streaks of auburn in the chestnut hair peeking out from under his ball cap. Although he is certainly all man, his smile gives him a boyish quality. He jogs up to me, leaving less than a foot of space between us.

“Hiya,” he breathes, making my heart race.

“Hi yourself,” I say, grinning back at him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says. “Just coming from Congdon?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Took a break to stretch my legs. Thought I’d take the long way to the library and back. Where are you headed?”

“I was heading to the library myself. I have a bit of a break before my next class. Mind if I join you?” Teagan gestures in the direction of the library.

“Not at all,” I say, and we resume walking. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”

“Grand! Been busy. Between classes, work, and games, I hardly know if I’m coming or going anymore,” he says. “How are you, Lovely?”

Teagan lightly bumps his elbow into mine in a friendly gesture. He smells so good, like pine and clean laundry. I want to bury my face into his hoodie and never leave.

“Same,” I reply. “Work has been ridiculously busy since someone in the universe declared it the start of the holiday season. I think I get asked ten times a day when we’re going to start carrying turkeys.”

A deep chuckle sounds from his throat. “Don’t get me wrong, turkey can be delicious, but why is it the standard for holiday meals? Personally, I’d rather have a Sunday roast with all the fixings.”

“What’s the traditional Christmas meal in Ireland?” I ask, glancing sideways at him.

“Turkey.” He winks at me, which only makes me blush. “What about your family? Do you follow Mexican customs or American?”

I laugh loudly. “Oh, definitely Mexican. Meals in general are a huge deal in our culture, but the holidays are an event. The amount of food made could feed an entire army, which is about the size of most Mexican family get-togethers. We always make tamales, which may not sound like much, but the whole family gets involved. It’s one of the many traditions we don’t skip out on. ”

“Don’t laugh,” Teagan starts, “but…what are tamales?”

I stop in my tracks and turn to gape at him in disbelief. “You don’t know what tamales are?”

He shakes his head sheepishly.

A laugh bursts from me, and I quickly cover my mouth with both hands. “I’m sorry. You asked me not to laugh. But really? You’ve never even heard of them.”

“Not from here, remember?” he says, pointing to his chest. “I was raised on a sheep farm. We ate mutton and potatoes.”

“Oh, we’re going to have to fix that,” I state resolutely.

“Yeah?” I can feel his eyes on me. “Are you going to make them for me?”

Hijole . Did I just agree to cook for Teagan?

“Uh…” I begin.

“Or I can just buy some right?” he asks hurriedly. “Surely they can be found in the grocery store, yeah?”

My head snaps up. “You are absolutely not going to eat store-bought tamales for your first tamale experience. I imagine that would be the equivalent of me eating frozen fish sticks and saying I tried fish and chips.”

Teagan grimaces. “Ach, you’re right. So where does that leave us?”

I like being referred to as an us.

“Alright, O’Brien. I’ll make some tamales.”

The grin that spreads across his face is blinding.

“But,” I add, not quite believing what I’m about to say, “you have to help make them.”

“It’s a date,” he answers without hesitation. “Now, tell me what’s in them.”

Turning to resume walking, he motions for me to follow. I’m still trying to process how we went from discussing Christmas traditions to planning a… date. Like an actual date? Why is this so hard for me to wrap my brain around? I’ve dated before. The last one… When was the last one? Definitely before moving to North Carolina, and it hadn’t gone well at all.

“You still with me, lass?” Teagan asks, concern knitting his brow.

“Yes! Sorry, just got lost in a thought,” I admit. “What did you ask again?”

“I wanted to know what’s in tamales,” he says patiently .

“Right. Tamales.”

I begin explaining the process as we stroll past the amphitheater and head towards the library. He’s a great listener, asking questions when he doesn’t understand something and repeating the process back to me, using his hands to mime the actions. By the time we reach our destination, he’s convinced himself that he’s already a professional tamale maker and is going to open up a food truck. My laughter only encourages his antics.

“I’m offended that you think my dreams of opening Teagan’s Traveling Tamale Truck are so funny, love. This has been my life’s work,” he says, scowling playfully.

“ Tamal . Just one is tamal. Plural is tamales,” I correct him.

He glares at me, and I hold my hands up in surrender. “You’re right; you’re right. How thoughtless of me. I’m sure that your tamales will be just as authentic and delicious as my Abuela’s family recipe.”

“Abuela?” He tilts his head to the side questioningly.

Rather than going inside the library, we move to a shady section and lean against the wall. I pull my wavy hair over my shoulder and start twisting the strands around my fingers. “My Grandma. Abuela means grandma in Spanish. Abuelo is grandpa.”

“Are your grandparents still alive?”

The thought of my grandparents brings a smile to my face. Abuela is a firecracker, always ready with a witty comeback, while Abuelo is reserved and as sweet as dulce de leche. “They are. Mami’s parents, anyway. Papá’s parents passed away before I was born. What about you?”

“Aye, both sets still alive and kicking last time I checked. My Da’s parents live on our property, while my Mam’s parents live in Belfast. Never saw them much growing up. They weren’t happy that she married Da, so they only came around once every handful of years.”

“That’s so sad,” I say. “Family is everything in our culture. Abuela and Abuelo live next door and were just as involved with my siblings and me as my parents were. And my cousins might as well have been siblings for all the time we spent together.”

Teagan smiles warmly at me. “That’s grand. I wish my family was as close as yours seems to be. I love the thought of making huge meals with the entire family and kids running around everywhere. That’s why I love my job so much. I get to spend time with this great group of kids, and we just have a blast.”

Before I can stop the thought, my mind fills with a vision of Teagan in my family home at Christmas. He’s sitting at the table next to Abuela making her laugh while she teaches him how to make tamales. The vision shifts to him playing soccer in the yard with my brothers and cousins. I can see my sisters giggling and blushing every time he shows them the slightest bit of attention and Mami glowing with delight. Then I’m in the living room teaching him how to salsa. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close…

Just as my thoughts start to take a heated turn, a group of rowdy freshmen come out of the library, jostling each other. One goes flying into Teagan, which sends him careening into me. One of his hands immediately grasps my waist, while the other hand braces against the wall next to my head. Instinctively, my hands land on his chest.

“Fucking eejit!” he barks at the student who is now on the ground. “Watch where yer goin’, you bleedin’ melter!”

The guy mumbles something and hurries off, laughing with his friends. Teagan turns his head back to me, our faces now inches apart. I suck in a breath at the proximity.

“Are ya alright, Lovely?” he asks, squeezing my hip gently.

“Fine.” I nod, swallowing thickly. “Are you okay?”

Teagan’s gaze flicks to my mouth briefly before coming back to rest on my eyes.

“Aye, grand. I didn’t crush you, did I?”

He glances down at my body as if to check. Only then do I realize that in the course of the action, he’s kept his upper half from crushing me, but his lower half is another story. His pelvis is flush against mine, and at that precise moment, I feel something twitch against me. Dios mío.

Teagan abruptly pulls his hips back and clears his throat loudly. He does not, however, remove his hand from my waist or from the wall beside my head, but I also don’t remove my hands from his chest. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re no longer filled with concern but something heated. There’s a promise in them that I’m very interested in finding out about. He slowly leans his head closer, his grip on my waist tightening. I can’t breathe. He’s going to kiss me. And I want it badly. It’s been a long time since my last kiss, and it was awful. Somehow, I just know that kissing Teagan will be good. More than good. Curling my fingers into his hoodie, I raise my chin slightly, bringing our mouths closer.

“O’Brien!” a loud voice calls from behind us, making us jump apart like two teenagers caught making out by their parents.

Teagan

Fucking Rowan. I’m going to throttle him with my bare hands. Kissing Layla has been an ever-present thought in my head for a while now, but I didn’t expect it today, like this. Being this close, with my hands on her body and the way she was looking at me, has me reconsidering. Expelling a sharp breath, I glance at Layla who’s intentionally looking at her shoes.

Rowan saunters up to us with a shite-eating grin on his face. He claps a hand on my shoulder and looks back and forth between the two of us with wide, mischievous eyes. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything, mate.”

I glare at him and not so playfully punch his bicep. “Course not, mate. That’s the last thing on your mind, yeah?”

Ro winces, rubbing his arm where I hit him before looking towards Layla.

“How’s it cuttin’, Layla Love?” he asks.

Layla’s blushing but manages to raise a dubious eyebrow at him. “Todo bien, alborotador.”

“Troublemaker?” he says aghast, shocking Layla and I both with his understanding of Spanish. “I’m hurt.”

“Since when do you know Spanish?” I ask in disbelief.

“Ach, I’ve been taking a class every year. Surely I mentioned that.” Rowan shrugs .

“Never. But why are you taking it?”

Ro looks at me like I’m the biggest eejit on the face of the planet. “Teagan O’Brien, in such a diverse world, don’t you think it’s important to learn more than one language? Look at yer wan here. She’s clearly bilingual. Don’t you want to know what she’s saying when you’re making her…”

“Stop. Stop right there, Gallagher.” I cut him off before he can embarrass Layla further. “If you know what’s good for you, you will not finish that sentence.”

Ro raises his hands in defeat but winks at Layla, whose eyes are as wide as saucers. The nerve of him. I’ll make sure to pelt him in the head with a ball at practice later. Gobshite.

“Well, I better be off. Saw the two of yous when I came out of the library and thought I better say hello. Carry on!” Ro grins before turning and jogging away.

“For fuck’s sake,” I murmur, looking back to Layla. “I’m so sorry, Layla. He’s a royal pain in the arse.”

She releases a nervous giggle. “It’s fine. He reminds me of my brothers, honestly.”

“God, I can’t imagine having two Rowans around. You must be a saint to put up with that.”

“I don’t know about that. I’ve learned to dish it as well as I can take it. I’m just not as loud about it. My retaliation is more…calculated.” She grins.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side, lass.”