Page 61 of Hurricane Love

“Diego?” she asked.

“And you and Kayla and Nancy. I’ve never been on my own like this before.” Wylie was a pack animal, not a lone wolf. He’d never even pretended to be one, in fact, and he was worried he might not be able to hack it alone.

“You’ll make new friends. Smart ones,” Kayla assured him.

Wylie grunted with dissatisfaction. He was sick of everyone putting him on some kind of pedestal, and he didn’t like the way it “othered” him from everyone else.

“There are a lot of different ways to be smart and a lot of different ways to be stupid,” Wylie insisted. The main difference between him and Hannah was that he’d pursued an education while she’d put that plan aside to be a really great mom. She was just as smart as him, smarter even, especially when it came to raising a kid. “Anyway, I have a two-bedroom up there. I hope you and Kayla will come visit me, and I’ll be coming back here too.” It was only a two-hour drive, Wylie had to remind himself.

“What about Diego? You’re practically living with him now, thanks to me.”

“We’re gonna be friends.” Wylie tried to say it with no inflection whatsoever, if only to get used to the fact himself.

She shot him a skeptical look. “Friends?”

“That’s what he wants. What else can I do?” He dragged both hands through his hair. There was no limit to his frustration with that man.

She reached out and patted his arm. “He’ll get there, Wy. Just be patient. Your mind moves so fast, and you’re so confident about everything you do. Sometimes it takes the rest of us mere mortals a minute to catch up.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

But there was something to what Hannah had said. Maybe his relationship with Diego wasn't about moving at the same speed, just making sure they were both headed in the same direction. It was something to hold onto.

Wylie madethe rounds at the trailer park, wanting to make sure he’d said a proper goodbye to everyone before he left. He received a lot of baked goods and kind words for his trouble.

At dinner that night, several of the residents toasted him and made speeches about his accomplishments, including Nancy and Hannah and his neighbor Mac. They recounted stories of hisexploits around the Village, like the first time he’d tried to shock the pool but ended up using the wrong chemicals, which required them to drain the pool completely and start over. Another neighbor recounted one of the epic fights he’d gotten into with an ex, which included shoving the man out of his trailer in his underwear in the middle of the day and then throwing the rest of his clothes onto the lawn. Choice words were said between them and the residents learned a few new phrases.

There were also several stories about all the good deeds Wylie had done–fixing plumbing issues and repairing stuff around their homes, salvaging furniture and fixing appliances that the residents could then use. The consensus seemed to be that he’d grown up quite a lot in his seven years of living with them at the Village, and they were excited to see him embark on this next big adventure.

There were no words to express just how much he’d miss them, but he tried.

Dolores had made her famous carrot cake for dessert, his favorite. They’d also compiled a book called “Village Wisdom” where everyone had written him a bit of advice, along with their well-wishes. Wylie teared up while reading it.

“Now, don’t you forget about us old farts,” Mac had said to him as his parting words.

“Never,” Wylie replied and gave the man a good, strong hug. “Take care of Hannah for me.”

“You’d better believe I will.”

After the party had concluded and he’d helped Nancy and crew clean up, Wylie made his way over to the pit with a slice of cake for Diego. It’d been less than twelve hours since he’d last seen the man, and he missed him already. How was he going to survive the lonely months ahead?

He parked behind the building and slipped in through the back door, which was propped open as usual. Diego was alone inside with the music on, sanitizing the counters. Wylie wouldmiss this too–greeting customers, cutting up with his coworkers, closing alongside Diego.

“Hey, boss,” Diego said, glancing up from his work to offer him a warm, though tired, smile.

“Hey yourself.” Wylie wrapped an arm around Diego’s waist to give him a kiss. He’d developed this routine himself, a smooch whenever one of them left or arrived. Diego had adapted to it quickly and now expected it as part of their greetings and goodbyes.

“I brought you this.” Wylie handed him the paper plate of carrot cake wrapped in cellophane.

“I made this for you, if you’re still hungry,” Diego said and pulled a Cuban sandwich wrapped in butcher paper from the to-go shelf.

“I’m still full from dinner. I’ll save it for later.” Wylie patted his stomach. He was going to work up an appetite tonight. He planned to defile Diego seven different ways and then eat that delicious sandwich he’d made for him afterward. “Eat yours while I take over,” Wylie said.

He took the rag and bucket of bleach water to finish the counters while Diego grabbed a fork and some napkins. But before he was even able to take his first bite, there was a commotion at the back door that startled them both. A moment later a man wearing a ski mask appeared. He stalked into the kitchen where they stood and pointed a gun at them both.

Not a fake gun, a real one.

Wylie’s heart was in his throat, rabbiting wildly as he broke out in a cold sweat. As for Diego, a look of dread came over him as his gaze swung from the intruder to Wylie and back again.