Page 75 of Dissolving Prejudice

Watching him speak so enthusiastically about his job for the last thirty minutes warmed my heart, and I could have spent ten more hours doing just that. Somehow, from fighting in the street and rubbing salt on each other’s open wounds, we found ourselves on a date in a small restaurant in some side alley in the market. Well, calling this shed a restaurant was a stretch, and so was calling this a date, considering Shay-Lee’s declaration about this being a pity meal over dumping my ass in the ocean yesterday. But it didn’t matter because whatever this was, it was fun. As much as I missed his ass and dick, I mostly missed this. Us. I missed just speaking to one another over food and drinks, listening to what the other had to say. While I was sexually attracted to Llorón when we first met at the club, what made me fall for him wasn’t the sex but the connection we managed to build through hours of talking to one another. I’d never met a person I was so comfortable opening up to like I did with Shay-Lee, and for the last five years, I’d lacked this. I’d lacked the ability to be with him and share how my day went. Sitting here with him now was a bittersweet moment because while it warmed my fucking heart, it also reminded me of how lonely I’d actually been.

“Hey,” I scowled at him after he’d just kicked my leg under the table. “What was that for?”

“You were dozing off,” he said before taking a sip from his drink and putting it aside. “Were you even listening to a word I said?”

“Of course I was.”

His lips stretched into a big smile, and for a moment, I was blinded by his beauty. He was so damn gorgeous, like the sun after an eclipse.

“So you and Vito are getting along?” I asked him to prove that I had listened to every word.

“Yeah, we are. He’s a funny man unless it comes to fashion. Then he’s lethal.”

The nice lady who runs this place returned with our main dishes and placed them on the table before leaving us alone. While I ordered vegan fried rice that came inside a sliced pineapple, Shay-Lee ordered tom yum soup that smelled amazing.

“That fashion show you mentioned… You know, what you spoke about earlier. When is it going to take place?” I asked after taking a bite from my rice. Fuck. It was to die for.

“It starts in June and will be in Italy. Isn’t it awesome?”

Putting my fork aside for a second, I nodded. “Fuck yeah. I bet your show is going to be the best.” Ready to dive back into my food, I noticed the feeble blush that crept to his cheeks. This small, barely there reaction made me bite my lip with adoration because I knew Shay-Lee didn’t actually know how to take a compliment. He was a cocky brat, yet somehow, genuine compliments turned him into this cute, bashful boy that stole away my heart.

“I doubt it…” He rubbed the back of his nape before glancing up at me. “But enough about me.” He chuckled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… Where the fuck are your smokes?”

“Gone.”

“No fucking way.” He slumped back in his chair. “Did you actually quit?”

“Yep.” I moved a hand over my jaw, thinking back on the first few weeks after quitting. “And it sucked. Still does, by the way.”

Shay-Lee found my suffering amusing because he laughed. “To be fair, I never thought you’d quit.” He bit his lip. “It was kinda hot, you know?”

“Now you’re saying it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you wouldn’t marry me if I didn’t quit.”

“Huh?” His forehead creased as he stared back at me with confusion.

Putting my elbows on the table, I leaned closer. “That was your only condition. Don’t you remember?”

His eyes widened before he gasped and pushed back from his chair. “Oh fuck, I did, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

“And you took me seriously?”

“Fuck yeah.” I huffed. “I want to marry you.”

Shay-Lee tried to hold back a laugh before he shook his head and went back to his food.

“To be clear,” I said after taking another bite from my rice. “I am going to marry you.”

Snorting into his bowl of soup, he glanced up. “At least swallow first.”

“I always do.” I smirked, and he rolled his eyes before his lips pulled into a devilish smile.

“Tell me, Camilo, do you ever give up?”