"Tony. Sorry, he's Anthony Frontera, but we usually call him Frontera."
"Well, I guess if you need to, you can call me Weber," I said with a smirk.
He laughed and finished his drink. "All right, Weber. What's your plans for your 'real life' that you're delaying by coming here?"
Normally I would have been put off by such a question, but I opened up to Dean immediately. I bought the next drink, and he bought the one after that. My head was starting to buzz, so I slowed down, feeling that I had drank enough.
I talked about my hop
es of working for a fashion designer in New York, about my dreams of opening my own design place. In the meantime, how I'd be happy just to get a job in the field. He listened attentively, nodding at just the right spots, asking questions that I was happy to answer. It seemed so easy to fall into a conversation with him, and I felt myself leaning closer and closer as we talked. He didn't volunteer any information about his job in the Army, and I didn't ask. I was happy to talk about myself for a while.
After talking for what seemed like forever, I decided to change the subject. "So," I said with a sly smile. "Where is this house that Tony couldn't shut up about?"
"Are you trying to get my address?" Dean asked with a mock-scandalized look, putting his hand up to his face like some Victorian age lady. I couldn't help but laugh. "It's right off the beach and about half a block that way." He nodded his head up toward the expensive houses. "It's the blue one."
"Are you serious?" I exclaimed. "That place is huge! You could fit half the Army in that house," If it really was the house I was thinking of, it was the biggest house on the beach.
"Yeah, it's probably the nicest place I've ever been," he said. He set his empty glass on the bar and gave me that smile again, this time with a little bit of conspiracy behind it. "You want a tour?"
"Hell yes!" I couldn't even hide my excitement.
Chapter 4
June 5th, 1990- Evening
Dean took me by the hand, and we stumbled out of the brightly-lit bar and onto the sidewalk. I knew that the other girls would wonder about where I went, but I didn't care. I could feel the whiskey and beer buzzing through my system, making me giddy. We were outside before I realized that Dean hadn't let go of my hand. I could feel his heat seeping into my skin, sending little tendrils of electricity up my spine. I was lightheaded, and I knew it wasn't just from the alcohol.
Since I'd seen the house while out on the beach with Jenny and Kimberly, I already knew the way to the house. I half-consciously started to lead the way. "What's your hurry?" he asked. "That eager to get me to my house?"
I stuck my tongue out at him. "All right, big guy, what else do you have in mind?"
He shrugged his shoulders. I couldn't help but notice the strength in them whenever he did that. "Have you ever checked out the shops in Old Town?"
I smiled. "Yes, we went there earlier today, as a matter of fact."
"Did you check out the surf shop? There was some surfboards with some fantastic designs on them," he said.
I shook my head. If I had seen it, I had probably just walked right past it. I had never been surfing in my life.
He grabbed my hand and smiled. "Come on!" he said, sounding like an excited five-year-old. I couldn't help but come along.
When we got to the store, it was already closed for the evening. Still, Dean pressed his face to the glass and looked at them. Even in the dim light from the street, I could see a whole wall full of surfboards. Dean pointed out a few that he liked. The ones he picked tended to be simple and super masculine. The rest were mostly beach scenery, but one in particular caught my eye. It reminded me of a watercolor painting, something that Kim would have painted.
"I love surfing," Dean said, still peering into the store. "One day, when I retire, I'm going to live on some resort island and just surf every day." He turned toward me, smiling. "How about you?" he asked.
I laughed. "I have no idea where I'll retire. I have to actually get a job to retire someday."
He laughed back at me. "I didn't mean that. I meant surfing! Do you like it?"
I crossed my arms. "I've never been."
"Never been!" he shouted, as if he had never heard something so ridiculous. "I'd love to give you a lesson sometime."
I smiled. "I'd like that."
Our eyes were locked. Dean's crystal blue eyes seemed to gleam as he delved into mine, and I just wanted to melt right into them. "For now, though, you wanted to see the house."
I fell out of the trance for a moment. "Right. The house," I said. He held my hand again and began to lead the way. Suddenly, he seemed to be walking a little faster, as if he had a purpose now.