American Fairytale (Dreamers)

by Adriana Herrera

Like he’d predicted, when I finally got a chance to get to know her more, we realized we had a lot in common.

  “Camilo, bienvenido,” she said as she walked over to me with her arms wide open.

  “Gracias. It’s so good to be here and not freezing in New York.”

  She laughed as she came in for a kiss, then turned to do the same to my mom. “Hola, Dinorah. This is the best time to come. No mosquitos and no humidity. Weather is perfect all the time.”

  I turned around to give Tom’s dad a hug.

  “Hey, Richard.”

  “Camilo, good to see you.” Then he turned to give Tom a bear hug. “Son, so happy to have you here with the family.”

  I spluttered at that and Tom laughed.

  He turned to look at me with that lopsided smile he was usually sporting when we were deeply immersed in “family time.”

  “Amor, you want to go up with my folks. I’ll find someone to help bring up the bags.” Then he looked at his mom. “Mamí, you’re taking Dinorah and Libe to the beach right?” Esperanza gave him a wink and a very enthusiastic yes as she herded us inside.

  I had the suspicion Tom was up to something, but I was on vacation and not going to get worked up about him doing his usual sneaky shit.

  Tom

  This was it.

  I was doing this right now. I closed the door to the apartment and heard my parents, Libe and Dinorah chatting in the hallway as they walked down one floor to their place.

  Camilo and I were finally alone after almost an hour of catching up with my family, and I was desperate to get my plan in gear.

  I walked in the master bedroom and saw him standing on the balcony, his hair fluttering in the breeze.

  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the water below was a blinding blue, the rays of the sun sparkling on the surface like diamonds. Just below us the palm trees lining the beach swayed in the breeze. It was a perfect island day, and to have Camilo here with me felt like a reward I would spend the rest of my life being grateful for.

  I walked up to him and put my arms around his waist, my chin on top of his head.

  “Hey, amor.”

  He lifted his head for a kiss and I pressed our lips together.

  When we pulled back Camilo sighed happily, his eyes bright. “This view is amazing, Tom. I’m having a pretty intense ‘How is this my life?’ moment again. I’m so happy to be here right now.”

  I nodded and kissed him again, once again feeling too full of feelings to speak.

  “It feels so right to be on my island, with my love.” His face turned soft and he pushed his head back against my chest as I spoke. “Sometimes it’s like I don’t have the words in English or Spanish to explain how I feel about you—”

  He smiled as I moved, so we were face-to-face. “To tell you how much you’ve brought to my life. You’ve opened my eyes and my heart. You humble me with your strength. I don’t deserve you.”

  He put his hand up as if he was about to protest, and before I lost my nerve I pulled the red and gold box out of my pocket. I’d debated on whether to do the kneeling thing and decided Camilo might just laugh at me for being corny.

  I opened it to show him the two bands inside, grinning at Camilo’s yelp.

  “Tom?” he gasped, but a smile was already forming on his lips.

  I moved to push our foreheads together.

  “Camilo, mi amor. You’re the one. From the very first moment I saw you, you’ve been changing my life. I want us to wake up together every day. You’re my forever, Camilo.”

  I closed my eyes then, and could feel Camilo’s cheeks popping while I asked what felt like the most important question of my life. “Will you marry me?”

  I opened my eyes and found him nodding, as he pushed on his tiptoes to kiss me hard. He nipped at my lips as I fumbled with getting the rings on our fingers. When we pulled back he had a pissed off look on his face.

  I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re mad at me now?”

  He put his hand up to look at the ring and then pulled my head back down, so he could kiss me again. “Like you had to ask me? I’ve been ready, Tom.”

  I threw my head back, laughing again, and picked him up. I was so ready to be done with all this, and move on to the real celebration. But just as he wrapped his legs around my waist and I turned for the bedroom, we heard a chorus of voices coming from my parents’ balcony on the floor below.

  “Did he say yes?”

  I could hear Libe’s excited little voice over the rest. Camilo laughed with his lips against my neck, as I walked us back close enough to look down at my parents’ balcony.

  When we could see them, we both leaned over and answered together.

  “Si!”

  * * *

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  And coming soon from Carina Press and Adriana Herrera.

  Haitian-born professor Patrice Denis is not here for distractions that will veer him off the path he’s worked so hard for. One particular distraction: Easton Archer. The goldenboy prosecutor who last summer gave Patrice some of the most intense nights of his life...and is still on his mind over a year later.

  Read on for a sneak preview of American Love Story, the next book in Adriana Herrera’s Dreamers series.

  Chapter One

  Easton

  He made my heart stop.

  Over a year had passed since I’d seen Patrice Denis for the first time, and still, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Too bad I was so inconsequential to him that he’d been in Ithaca for over a month and was yet to send me a text with as much as a “fuck you.”

  I stood there observing him from a distance. He had his locs coiled on top of his head, and was wearing glasses that I’d never seen before, distractedly talking to a man who seemed a lot more invested in the conversation than Patrice was. As I watched the guy lean in close enough to brush against Patrice’s shopping cart, I gripped the handle of mine so tight it squeaked. An unexpected flare of jealousy, coming out of nowhere, just from seeing someone in his space. I shook my head, amazed at the feeling. I’d spent my entire adulthood thinking I just was not the jealous type.

  That was before Patrice Denis walked into my life.

  I was still trying to decide whether I should just keep moving or go say hello when the man he’d been talking to walked away. Patrice looked after him, his face stony. The relief loosening my chest did not go unnoticed.

  I headed towards him, knowing there was a good chance I’d get the same icy reception the other guy got, but I wasn’t strong enough to stay away. When my cart was only a few feet from him, he turned around and the smile he gave me was...everything. After a second, he must have realized he was beaming at me and schooled his expression.

  But it was too late. I’d seen it.

  He’d been happy to see me. I was certain of it, and it gave me the last push I needed to jump back in. I leaned on the handle of my shopping cart and smiled up at him while he held a shiny red apple in his hands.

  “Professor.”

  He turned fully towards me and just having his body so close made a shiver run down my spine. He had on a Cornell sweatshirt with some cutoffs and leather flip-flops on his feet. I noticed he’d switched the stud in his nose for a small silver hoop. That big body as imposing and powerful as ever. An image of that carved chest looming over me flashed through my head and it was all I could do not to whimper.

  I was staring. I knew that, but I couldn’t help
it. At least he seemed a bit flustered too; he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts before answering.

  “Easton. Good to see you,” he said with a sheepish look, such a contrast from the serious one from a few minutes earlier. “So is this place like a major hangout in town? It’s eight on a Sunday and I’ve already ran into like three of Nesto’s relatives and half of my department.”

  Banter then, I could banter. “To be fair, his uncle and his sister do work here.”

  He conceded my point with another smile.

  “Philmans is pretty busy most days, and everyone shops here. It’s actually pretty calm compared to how it is during the day on the weekend. That’s why I come here at this time. Get my shopping done faster.”

  He gave me a cheeky look and suddenly the man I’d been pining over for the last year was right in front of me. “Is that why you come here so late, avoiding disgruntled customers?”

  I scoffed at the jab. “For your information, Professor Denis, I happen to have one of the best conviction records in the state.”

  He raised an eyebrow about a hundredth of a centimeter which I guess was his version of acknowledgement, then spoke in a more serious tone than I was hoping for. “I’m aware, counselor.”

  I nodded, feeling unsure of how heavy this conversation was about to get and desperate to come up with something to make the conversation lighter.

  I brought out my grievances instead.

  “I was wondering if you’d made it up here,” I offered, lifting a shoulder, the unsaid since I never heard from you again after you fucked me on every flat surface in my apartment hanging in the air. “Welcome to the Finger Lakes.”

  He bowed his head and started to look uncomfortable, but before I could interject, he opened his mouth.

  “Sorry I didn’t get in touch. Things have been a little crazy this year. The job market was hectic and unpredictable and I didn’t decide on this position until late in the game. It’s been an adjustment, to say the least.”

  I dipped my head in response, not sure how to proceed. All I could think was I want to touch him so badly.

  I had no right to it though, on that at least I was very clear. Patrice’s lack of interest was not exactly subtle. Last summer we’d been incendiary, coming together over and over again. From that first day when I’d seen him helping out at the truck the attraction had been undeniable. We’d see each other by chance while he was here helping his best friend with his food truck, and inevitably we’d be back at my place tearing each other’s clothes off. But in the year after, his silence had been almost complete.

  Despite our connection, once he was gone he was gone.

  I knew he’d been back over the winter to visit Nesto, but he never made any efforts to get in touch or let me know he was in town. So when I heard from a friend in common he’d taken a job at Cornell, I was elated, thinking we’d be able to reconnect. A part of me even foolishly thinking his decision to take a job here had something to do with me. I’d texted him to congratulate him, but he’d responded with a Thank you, and never contacted me again.

  Patrice cleared his throat and I realized I had been spacing out.

  So smooth.

  “No worries. I know how it is. Never thought you’d end up here. It’s a nice surprise.” I dearly wished I could sound neutral when I was around Patrice, but thirsty and parched were my only settings when it came to him.

  This time he averted his eyes before answering me. I wondered if he was a bit more affected by me than he let on. “Hard to say no to a job offer from an Ivy League school.”

  Okay, not exactly a romantic revelation. I barely contained a frustrated sigh before I nodded. “Sure. Congratulations on that. It’s a big deal. How are you getting on? Did you find a place?”

  He pursed his lips at the mention of his living situation. “Yeah, but I won’t move in there for another week or so. I’m staying with Nesto and Jude until then.” His best friend Nesto was coupled off with Jude, the local hottie librarian, and living in pre-marital bliss.

  “Is your place in town?” I had no shame.

  He gave me a funny look like he wasn’t sure why I was asking, but after a second he nodded. “Yeah. It’s that old building behind the co-op, I rented the apartment on the top floor.”

  I kept my expression neutral, but was surprised, that place catered more to students than faculty. He didn’t look very excited about the apartment, and I didn’t blame him. “I signed the lease months ago, but they’ve been delaying the move-in date for weeks now.” He scowled. “They seem to have some issues with the building. I’m starting to think I may need to look for something else. But housing here is such a hassle. I’m not sure I’ll be able to find something close to campus this late in the game. Classes already started.”

  I should have left it alone, but the temptation was too strong and before I knew it, I was blurting it out. “Landlords in Ithaca can be a pain in the ass. If you do want to look for other options let me know.” This time I was the one clearing my throat and feeling awkward, but I pushed through. “My building has a couple of units open.”

  He perked up at that but almost immediately went back to his calm, cool and collected demeanor. I could tell he was interested though. He’d been to my place a few times last summer and knew it was in a nice location and that the apartments were pristine. Still, I was bracing for him to turn me down when he nodded and mumbled an okay.

  In the interest of not coming off like a full-on creepy asshole, I decided not to offer up the fact that I owned the building. I fidgeted with the kale I had in my cart as I figured out how to proceed. I was afraid Patrice would judge me if I said it and I didn’t want that. So I kept my mouth shut, and grinned at him like an idiot while he considered my offer.

  He thought about it for another minute and then nodded. “I might call you up to ask for the landlord’s info. If I can’t move in this week, I’m looking for another place.”

  “Sounds good. Listen—”

  I was about to take my shamelessness to the next level when I saw him jump and then pull his phone out of his pocket. He smiled when he looked at the screen, and spoke before I could. He held up his phone. “It’s my mom. We’re supposed to Skype tonight. I should get going,” he said, giving me another smile, but this one was not at all inviting.

  “It was good seeing you, Easton.”

  Then he walked away without so much as a backward glance. I stood there wondering if I really could read people as well as I thought. Because from the first moment with Patrice, I thought we’d shared something big, something worth exploring. I could lie to myself when he was a few hundred miles away, but maybe it was time for me to accept I was the only one who’d felt that way.

  Patrice

  “Well look who finally made it into town.”

  I heard Nesto call out as I walked into his restaurant. It was 8:00 a.m. on Monday morning, and he’d run out the house at 7:00 a.m., so he could be here to receive and order. He’d left Jude, his partner, and me home to take our time before we each headed to work. But he’d forgotten his iPad which he apparently needed. So I stopped by on my way up to campus to drop it off. As I handed it to him, I saw Ari, one of Nesto’s employees, walk out of the kitchen and wave at him.

  “Did you drive in, P?” Nesto asked with amusement. I was not fond of driving and had only bought the black Audi SUV I now owned after much prodding from my friends.

  “Yes.” He laughed at my very unenthusiastic answer.

  “Did you get my man to work in one piece?” His humorous tone fully masked that he actually wanted to know if I’d safely delivered his lover to work.

  I’d lived most of my life in New York City and never had a need for a car. It was a big milestone to now be someone who needed to drive everywhere. Only my friend Camilo was sympathetic to my dilemma, but even he told me to face the fact I would need one i
f I was living in Ithaca. Juan Pablo and Nesto just told me to get over it.

  My mom, on the other hand, had been very reluctant about the car purchase. She was usually all for the flex, but me driving a car upstate was not sitting well with her. She kept saying it made her nervous. I tried to temper her uneasiness by reminding her that I wasn’t going to be driving in the city and would most likely not get into a head-on collision with a yellow cab going eighty on the wrong side of a one way street. As one would on any given day in Manhattan.

  She acquiesced, begging me to be careful. I usually joked around with her whenever she got overprotective—I was her only child and sometimes that meant she was a bit more in my business than necessary. But this time I didn’t push, because I knew what she worried about was not me getting into a fender bender. She worried about what the mother of every black man who got behind a wheel of a car in this country worried about.

  Hell, I worried about it too, and it pissed me off, because I refused to live in fear. But I wasn’t delusional either, and still spent the night before I picked up my car watching YouTube videos on what to do if you got stopped by the police. I also made sure I kept my license and registration on the visor above the driver seat where it was fully visible and easy to get. I hated having to do that, and how paranoid it made me feel, but I wasn’t a fool. I was pretty good at avoiding things I didn’t want to deal with, but some things you ignored at your own peril.

  Nesto stood there tapping on the iPad I’d just handed him and shot me the occasional glance as I brooded on his question about Jude. Which only made me think of Easton.

  I knew I’d run into him eventually. This was a small town and we knew a lot of the same people. And no matter how many times I told myself I was here because no one could say no to a tenure track position at an Ivy League school, I couldn’t lie to myself. The fact that Easton lived here had been on my mind in a big way while I was deciding to take this job.