#littoc

“Well,” Santi shrugged and let out a chuckle. “In terms of what we’re used to dealing with from you, this is relatively normal.”

“Fair,” he chuckled and let out a congested cough, the one huff of air turning into a series of wheezing.

“You alright there, pal?”

“Yeah, just slowly accepting death.” Frankie reached for his sports drink, taking a sip to ease his throat before speaking again. “Hey, how’d everything go with the move? Is your hyna settled in?”

“Aye pues,” he chuckled and Frankie grinned at his friends blush.

“What? She’s not your girlfriend?” He asked while taking another sip.

“Taking it slow. Whatever that means.”

“I think it means she wants to take it slow.”

“Yes, let me listen to Frankie Morales about relationship advice.” He chided sarcastically, earning a wheezed laugh from his friend.

“Yeah, I do have a winning track record, don’t you know?” Frankie smiled at his own sarcasm, knowing just how unlucky in love he was. The only good thing to come from it was his little girl—who he wouldn’t be able to see again for seven more days at least.

“You talk to Viviana?” Frankie scoffed at the mention of his ex, the two of them having only spoken for Alondra’s sake since the split.

“Told her I had Covid and that I’d have to skip weekends with Alondra the next week. She wasn’t happy about that because her and her new man were supposed to be going to Miami this weekend.” Santi scoffed.

“Have you met this guy?”

“No.” Frankie was trying to hide his irritation at his ex’s sudden romance—the one that overlapped with their own.

“You think she brings him around Alondra?”

He didn’t want to think about that. Another man replacing him in the relationship? Fine. Another man acting like Alondra’s father? Hell no.

“His kid goes to the same daycare as Alondra, but I really hope she’s not bringing him around the house. That was one of the only things I asked her for. I’m all for her going off and finding her happiness and shit, but I don’t want her roping Alondra into it, you know?” Santi nodded and opened his mouth to speak but Frankie’s doorbell ringing cut him off. “Oh, wait. That’s my delivery.”

“Unbelievable,” he chuckled from his spot on Frankie’s couch, the phone left face down on the cushion while Frankie slipped on his mask and walked over to the door.

His heart fell to his feet at the sight of her waiting patiently on the other side of the door with a white plastic bag reading, “Thank You🙂” in hand. He practically whipped the door open, his eyes crinkling from the wideness of his grin as he greeted her.

•••

“Hey,” he smiled at you, shocking you with his good memory when he spoke your name.

“Frankie Morales, apartment 507. How’s Covid been treating you?” You greeted him with a smile hidden beneath your mask, excited to see him again after a week of fantasizing.

You weren’t sure what it was. He was just a guy in an apartment—you interacted with at least fifteen of them a day with this job. He shouldn’t have been anything special, anything that would make you fantasize like this. Except…he was.

Maybe it was his messy head of brown curls that lay over his forehead, begging to be pushed back and combed through with your fingers. It could’ve been those equally brown eyes that pulled you in, your heart sinking into them like a vat of warm molasses. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with his dreamy features at all, and maybe it had everything to do with the way he spoke to you like an actual human rather than a servant—the kindness he showed you all too rare in this industry.

Whatever it was, you were hooked. And seeing him now only proved that it wasn’t going away anytime soon. Maybe this time you’d find enough courage to ask for his phone number.

“Covid is as miserable as they say it is. Hopefully this takes a little bit off my karma,” he joked, a soft chuckle finding its way from your chest to your lips.

Oh, how you wanted to see his smile, the crinkles around his eyes the only tell that he was enjoying this as much as you were.

“At least you seem to have a healthy appetite,” you gestured behind him at the coffee table, a sigh of embarrassment leaving his lips as he turned back to look at it.

“Sorry, if I would’ve known it would be you delivering my food rather than Jeremy H., I would’ve cleaned up.” You laughed again—right until his eyes met yours again. Then, you were too flustered to do anything but blush. “Have you been doing okay?”

“Yeah, thank you for asking. No one really asks me that.” You chuckled, shocked by this strangers kindness. “Uh, yeah. Been trying to find a real job, but grad school’s taking up most of my time these days.”

“Grad school, huh?” He crossed his arms, seemingly getting comfortable for the conversation.

“Yeah, aerospace engineering.” You shrugged nonchalantly, his eyebrows raising in response. “I know, I know. A nerd.”

“No, I think it’s funny. I’m a pilot, actually. Well, was—working on getting my license back.” You wanted to ask more about that, but judging by the way the crinkles in his eyes went away, you could tell the topic was enough to rid him of his smile.

“So…Frankie Morales, apartment 507, has an impressive hankering for el pastor, knows how to fly planes. Super uninteresting.” You teased sarcastically, bringing his smile back.

“And you,” he repeated your first name. “Deliverer of el pastor and aspiring aerospace engineer. Also super uninteresting.” He shot you a wink, your eyes lowering to the ground as you fought away your blush. “This might…might ruin this fun thing we’ve got going on where I order too many tacos and you bring me them—which I love, by the way—but, uh…c-could I possibly get your phone number?”

“Yes!” You eagerly replied, his head tilting in amused surprise. “Sorry, that was way too eager.”

“Eager doesn’t bother me.” Your eyes locked for a moment, a chuckle leaving both of your lips at the tension you felt between you.

“Anyways,” you handed him his food before pulling out your phone, asking for his number and then texting it so that he could save it later on. “Well, enjoy those tacos for me. I should go grab some myself.”

“Oh, do you just want to take these? I—if I’m being completely honest, I’m sort of sick of them.” He chuckled nervously as he handed you the bag, your lips parted in shock at his gesture.

“W-why order them, then?” You hesitantly accepted the bag after he insisted.

“Well, I—I guess I was hoping to see you again. But haven’t had much luck, as you can see from the amount of trash littering my house.” He chuckled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shrugging. “But your fellow Dasher Jeremy H. and I have become great friends.”

“Can’t believe I’ve got food delivery competition. Have you been giving him five stars, too?” You asked playfully, Frankie’s head shaking and his hand resting over his heart.

“Nope, I swear those are only for you.”

Jesus, this guy.

“Well, good. Jeremy H. isn’t nearly as cute or good at conversations as me.” He laughed and nodded.

“No, he isn’t.” There he went again, making your stomach flutter. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from stealing any orders from Jeremy H.. But, uh, maybe we can Facetime later? And you can give me your opinions on the food?”

“Yeah, I’d really like that, Frankie.” He looked away shyly and nodded before sucking in a breath.

“Alright, well…I should get back to my Facetime call with my friend. He’s probably going to thoroughly embarrass me in front of you if I don’t hurry up—“

“He sleeps with socks on!” You chuckled at the sound of his friend’s voice coming from his phone, Frankie sighing and pointing backwards.

“Yep. Just like that.”

“Well, you don’t mind eagerness and I don’t mind sock-sleeping. Perfect match.” He smiled at you again, or at least that’s what it looked like. “Have fun getting better. And don’t let him pick on you too much for your sleeping habits.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled as you walked down the staircase to the ground floor of his complex, taking your mask off and shooting him an uncovered smile over your shoulder, shocked to see him doing the same. With a bitten lip, you hopped in your car and tried not to daydream about him too much. Though, you knew yourself well enough to ever think that would be possible.

•••

Frankie was in the middle of watching Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, wrapped up in a blanket to try and soothe the chills and muscle aches that had just set in when she Facetimed him. Blowing his nose, he tried to make himself look half-presentable before answering the call, grinning when he saw her smiling face.

“Am I interrupting anything?” She asked with a sweet voice, a voice that he could imagine stirring him awake in the mornings and soothing him to sleep at night.

“Just watching a movie and trying not to think about being sick,” he joked, earning a light chuckle. “How are you? Was the rest of your day pretty easy?”

“Well, after leaving your place, I ate the tacos—great, by the way.” He nodded and gave her a look of pride. “But then I had a customer throw her smoothie on me because it was runnier than usual.”

“Plot twist, she was only ordering in hopes of seeing Jeremy H.,” she giggled at that, his chest swelling with pride at the sound he was able to draw from her. “I’m sorry that people suck.”

“It’s okay,” she shrugged but he shook his head.

“No, it isn’t.” He watched her give him a tender look, his palm itching to splay out on her cheek.

“You’re right. It isn’t.” She breathed out something along the lines of a laugh, her eyes looking away from the screen for a moment. “So…I’m trying to figure out why someone like you is still single. Coming up short.”

Frankie let out a small laugh as he tried to think of a way to word his past without scaring her off immediately. He had plenty of skeletons in his closet, and if they all fell out at once, no one in their right mind would be able to handle it.

“Well,” he chuckled, eyes flickering to his lap. “Guess I don’t really have a good knack for finding things that are good for me. Or if they’re good, they never seem to stay that way.”

“I get that,” she spoke softly, as though she was trying to earn the trust of a skiddish animal. Perhaps she was.

“I, uh, was engaged a month and a half-ish ago. But, truthfully it hadn’t been a real relationship for almost two years.” He watched her reactions carefully, ready to stop sharing at any point if she appeared to get uncomfortable with the subject, but he was only met with an understanding nod and a softened look. “I have a kid—a baby. She’s nine months old. Anyways, she was a surprise, but we stayed together for her sake. But that ended for the best. Haven’t really thought about getting back out there until…”

“Until you met the world’s most competent DoorDash driver.” He chuckled and nodded, delightfully surprised at how well she was handling his past. “Well, I’m very proud of you for not settling. For choosing yourself. I’m sure your baby girl will be very thankful it happened early on rather than later down the road.”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly, feeling cozy and not at all from the blanket wrapped around him. It was her. Her voice, her humor, the way she strung a sentence together. “What about you? Why hasn’t the world’s most competent DoorDash driver been taken off the market yet?”

“The market is horseshit,” she chided with a dry tone, earning a laugh from him. “I don’t know. Men are so…not it.”

Another laugh. She was good at that.

“Yeah, we’re not great.”

“Nope,” she giggled and he felt his heart race. “Besides, I find it really hard to click with guys. Like, I’m not an idiot, you know? I’m not gonna pretend to be ditzy and cute to make them feel superior, and that usually is the nail in the coffin for my dates.”

“I like how smart you are. I feel like I can have a conversation with you—a mutually interested conversation, you know?” She faked a yawn and he let out a gasped laugh of shock, her giggles filling the room. “You know what? I take it back.”

“Ya know, I really like talking to you, Frankie.” Her confession quieted his laughter, his eyes softening as he looked into hers through the screen. “It feels easy.”

“It does,” he agreed with a smile. “I like how much you make me laugh.”

“I like making you laugh.”

God, his heart was already pounding on the inside of his chest, demanding to be set free so that it could go to its rightful home—the palm of her hands.

“Hey, when I’m Covid free next week, would you maybe want to go on a socially distanced date? We can go to the park, wear our masks. Try to have a normal-ish time in this very not normal world?” She bit her lip, her grin bringing the slightest of dimples in her cheeks as she nodded.

“I’d really like that.” He let out an exhale of relief, for the first time in a long time feeling excited about the future. “But until then, promise me we’ll keep having these Facetimes. I…really like talking to you. I feel like there’s so much I could pick your brain about.”

“Same here.” The pair found themselves staring at each other for a few seconds in comfortable silence, this new and budding friendship making them both feel giddy in a way they hadn’t been used to. “Starting with…what on earth made you want to be an aerospace engineer?”

“Well,” she chuckled and looked mildly embarrassed. “It’s gonna sound silly, but I watched Iron Man when it came out—I think I was like…14? Anyways, I just thought engineering was so cool, but I didn’t want to do the normal shit. And I’ve always had an affinity for space, so…it all just clicked.”

“You’re so cool.” He couldn’t help but to tell her that. He really did find her so interesting and…cool. Whatever that word meant, she was it. “So you’re wanting to go into NASA or something like that?”

“Hopefully! I interned at a Boeing factory last summer and decided that it was too…I don’t know. Too corporate for me. But the year before that, I volunteered at a STEM Camp for high schoolers and one of the guest speakers was from NASA, and it felt like a better fit. But I’ve got to finish my grad degree first before I can even think of applying to one of their programs.” He could listen to her talk about this all day long, her passion for her career matching his own. “What about you? Have you always wanted to be a pilot?”

“Pretty much,” he smiled at her ability to bring him back into the conversation. “I grew up in a Latino household and we never really had a ton of money to go on planes and all that, but I remember my first plane ride was when I was ten. I just got such a high being in the air. Sat by the window and pretended that it was me flying the thing, and ever since then I’ve been hooked.”

“You mentioned getting your license back?” She asked, and he could sense her hesitation in bringing it up.

“Yeah, I, uh…got into a little bit of trouble about a year ago.” He scratched the scruffy beard on his chin, debating on whether or not to tell her the whole story.

“Frankie, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I just want to tell you that I’m a very understanding person. I’m not easily scared off by skeletons and ghosts from the past. I care more about the you that’s in front of me presently—and he seems pretty great.” He bit his lip to try and hide the smitten grin trying to grow on his face—one that would give away just how into her he really was.

“Well,” he took a deep breath, putting all of his pride aside in the name of honesty. “I’ve struggled with addiction, and I got drug tested…so, bye-bye license. But, uh, I’ve been sober since then. Since the baby arrived, I just…I don’t see it being an issue anymore. When it was just me, it was easy to be destructive like that, but…not anymore. I don’t want her to grow up without a dad, or worse, with a dad who’s a deadbeat.”

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” she gave him a gentle smile, one that assured him his admission hadn’t shaken her. “And I’m very proud of you for choosing sobriety. I come from a long line of addicts, so…I know exactly how difficult it is to beat.”

“You’re sickeningly likable, do you know that? Like…nauseating, really.” She laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, making him chuckle. “I’m glad we met.”

“I’m glad we met too.”

He needed to sleep, he could feel it in his aching bones and dry eyes, but god, did he wish he could force himself to stay awake just to hear her go on about anything. But, the sleep was beating his heart’s desire, a yawn slipping from his lips.

“You should get some rest, Mr. Covid.” He smiled and nodded, his eyes studying her pretty face for a little bit longer. “Feel free to call me or text me in the morning, okay?”

“I will,” he nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you for…being you.”

“What a sap,” she teased. “Thank you for being so open with me. You’re a breath of fresh air, Frankie Morales, apartment 507.”

“Goodnight, querida.”

“Goodnight, handsome.”

•••

The first thing he did when he got home was fix himself a bowl of cereal, devouring it in record time—something he never seemed to unlearn after his time in the military. After he was finished, he turned on his speaker and connected his phone, his music shuffling until he landed on his favorite song at the moment, singing out the lyrics unabashedly.

“SWEET TEA IN THE SUMMER, CROSS MY HEART WON’T TELL NO OTHER—“ Frankie was in the middle of scrubbing the pile of dishes in his sink when his phone stopped playing music, his ringtone blaring instead. Wiping his hands on a paper towel, he walked over to it on the table and grabbed it, seeing his ex’s name on his screen. With a sigh, he slid the green arrow and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to have Alondra this week.” He rolled his eyes at her tone.

“Yes.”

“Okay…so…where are you? I’ve got shit to do, Frankie. Can’t wait around all day for you to decide to pick up your daughter.” Frankie lifted the phone from his ear and flipped the screen off before bringing it back.

“I’m cleaning my apartment up, Viviana. I’ll be at your place in a fucking hour. Is that fine? Can your shit wait until then? Or would you like our child to come back to my dirty apartment?” He only heard a sigh in response before she ended the phone call, tossing his phone back onto the table and pressing play. “PACK YOUR DOLLS AND A SWEATER. WE’LL MOVE TO INDIA FOREVER.”

He shuffled around his one bedroom apartment with purpose, excited to not only have Alondra back in his arms this weekend, but also because of the park date he and Mariposa—a nickname he so lovingly bestowed upon his new love after learning that she had not one, but five different butterfly tattoos (though he had yet to learn their locations)—set for the next afternoon.

Walking into his bedroom, he scratched his head as he took in the boxes of un-assembled furniture—a crib, a changing table, and a dresser. He let out a huff and rubbed the hair on his chin, feeling that familiar itch to soothe his stress with illegal substances. He shook his head at the mere thought of relapsing and turned around, heading into the kitchen to grab his phone, ignoring the urge to call Mariposa up—he didn’t want their first date to be assembling furniture—and instead choosing Santi’s contact.

“Look who it is!” Santi beamed through the video call, Frankie chuckling at his enthusiasm. “You covid-free finally?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up Alondra in a half hour, but I still need to put together the furniture I got for her. You get tested recently?”

“Yeah, me and la novia went yesterday because we’ve got a flight to Texas coming up this week.”

“Could I possibly steal you away from her and get some help tonight?” Frankie asked with his best smile, Santi groaning dramatically. “C’mon, I have beer.”

“Oh, sure then, yeah. I’m down. Come pick me up after you secure the bebé.”

“Alright be there in about an hour.”

•••

“Frankie,” Viviana greeted him with a glare, arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway. “You’re late.”

Frankie looked down at his watch, brows furrowed.

“I’m three minutes late.” He argued through his mask, only receiving an eye roll before she was walking him inside the home he used to share with her.

It hadn’t always been this way with Viviana. When they first met five years ago, she was a carefree grad-student studying to be a veterinarian. Kindness and affection radiated from her, catching his eye immediately at some house party Benny dragged him to. What began as a coked-up fuck in a strangers bathroom soon evolved to a full on relationship full of a lot of ups and downs—mostly downs—until the surprise conception of their baby girl. Now, all he could see when he looked at her were the many red flags he chose to ignore right up until a few months ago when she made the choice for him—and thank god she did.

“Oh hey, man. Nice to finally meet you.” Frankie’s jaw clenched as he spotted his replacement sitting at the kitchen table he helped pick out feeding his daughter with a casual smile. Frankie turned to Viviana, whispering to her with his back turned to her boyfriend.

“I asked you to not bring him around—“

“You’re not around, Frankie. I needed help.” She spat, Frankie scoffing at her argument.

“I was sick. With fucking Covid. Remember? The shit going around killing people that we know like nothing about?” She breezed past him, ignoring his valid defense and lifting Alondra from her high chair. Frankie accepted his daughter into his arms gladly, kissing her cheek through the cotton of his mask a few times before looking down at her, her grin growing wide until she let out a laugh. He kissed her forehead again, having missed the sound of his happy baby girl more than he’d ever missed anything.

“Remember, she’s allergic to bananas so look at all the labels before—“

“I know, V.” He shrugged on her diaper bag, allowing his ex to say goodbye to their daughter before the two were on their way.

“Hola cabrón!” Santi greeted Frankie with a smile, slipping into the passenger seat and patting his shoulder before turning around to look at Alondra in the backseat, reaching to pinch her foot. “Hola, muñecita.”

“We gotta stop at the store so I can grab some baby shit.” Frankie was still tense after his not-so nice reunion with the mother of his child, Santi quickly taking note of his attitude.

“Didn’t go well?” He asked carefully, Frankie looking over at him with an unamused look.

“She had her guy over. Fucking feeding Alondra like he’s her dad.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove to the nearest Target. “And V was finding any fucking reason to make me feel like shit. I never realized it back when we were together, but she’s so fucking…annoying.”

“Yeah, we all caught onto that pretty early on.”

“And yet no one thought to tell me?” Santi couldn’t help but chuckle at the question. They all very much had told Frankie about their distaste for Viviana, he just never listened.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled again, shaking his head as he looked back at Alondra squawking in the backseat. “Que pasa, niña? What’re you squawking about?”

Frankie’s phone lit up as it rested on the dash mount, Santi chuckling and teasing him as he read the contact name, “Mariposa 🦋”.

“Who’s that, huh? Frankie’s got a girlfriend?” He teased, nudging Frankie’s side with a shit eating grin, Frankie rolling his eyes and chuckling against his will.

“It’s the delivery girl,” he told him your name and Santi ooo-ed at the blush on his friends face. “Can you stop smiling like that and be useful? Open it for me, man.”

“Sure thing, pal.” Santi kept his grin on as he lifted the phone off the mount and opened it up, his eyes going wide at the sight of a racy photo on the screen. “Jesus, Fish!”

“What?” Frankie looked over at caught a glimpse of the picture, quickly snatching it from Santi’s hands and locking it. “What the fuck man?”

“What the fuck to you! You told me to open it!” He laughed through his defense, Frankie’s cheeks now flushed red.

“I didn’t know that…I—fuck off.” Santi looked back at Alondra, getting the baby girl to join him in his laughter.

“Papá tiene una novia, mija.” Alondra giggled without having a clue what he was saying. “Yeah, that’s funny, huh?”

“I shoulda called Benny.”

•••

You weren’t exactly sure what came over you.

Frankie had been a complete gentleman the entire week that the two of you had been talking, never once pulling anything or pushing you into the typical sexting shit that men usually tried this early on. He was consistent and honest, interesting and funny—checking every single box you had, which wasn’t an easy feat.

Somehow, your appreciation for him turned into horniness which then turned into a mini-photo shoot in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, eager to reward him for his very gentlemanly behavior and possibly get a glimpse of what he was like beyond it.

Your modesty was covered only by a skimpy thong and your arm over your breasts, your makeup and hair done up more than it would usually be on a Friday afternoon. You took a few different photos from different angles, but landed on an angle that showed off your curves best, pressing the blue arrow without second thought so that you wouldn’t lose your nerve.

“What the fuck did you just do, idiot?” You scolded yourself as you laid face first on your mattress. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off or come across as a creep who only wanted to fuck.

Thirty minutes had passed, your hands busy baking copious amounts of banana bread to keep the anxiety at bay. You felt like shit, ruining the first genuine connection you’d felt in a long time because you were horny? Idiot.

Right as you stuffed the next few loaf tins in the oven, your phone buzzed on the counter, your heart sinking to your feet at the sound. You almost didn’t want to look at it, your hope far too high to be let down by someone else’s name on the screen, but you couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay. Reaching for the phone, you gasped at the sight of “Rocketman ✈️” gracing your screen, your nickname for him after the two of you watched the film together over Zoom a couple days ago.

F: Mariposa, you’re so fucking beautiful. You trying to give me a heart attack in Target?

You giggled, looking around you at the mess of your panic baking as you thought up a witty response.

M: No heart attacks until you see me in person.

F: Deal.

F: What kind of wine do you like, bebita? I’m getting stuff for our picnic tomorrow.

You melted onto the counter, groaning at his sweet thoughtfulness.

M: Are you real?

F: Unfortunately yeah

M: I like you a lot, Rocketman. And anything pink, please!

F: I like you, Mariposa. A shit ton. My friend is here laughing at me as I type this because of my stupid fucking grin.

F: And you got it, anything else you want? Fruit, sweets, cheese? You name it, bebita.

M: I’m blushing like a fucking idiot, Frankie. You’re too cute. And no, your company and a glass of wine is perfect.

F: Sounds good, sweetheart.

A half hour passed before your phone buzzed again, Frankie’s contact on your screen again. You bit your lip as you opened the message, chuckling when you read it.

F: Hey this is Santi, Frankie’s real novia. Here’s your man.

M: Tell the guy on the right he’s hot

F: He’s blushing

F: Now he’s trying to take the phone awafbdhsu

F: Santi is an idiot, sorry you had the misfortune of talking to him, Mariposa.

M: Sounds like I’m gonna have to share you 🤨

F: He wishes.

F: I’m driving right now, but I’ll call you later on, pretty girl. Miss your voice 💞

M: Miss your voice, too. Be safe, pretty boy. 😘

•••

“Did you hear they’re talking about forcing everyone into fucking quarantine? Like shutting shit down?” Santi asked as he and Frankie sat together on his sofa, Alondra bouncing in her playseat while the boys drank beer and watched Frankie’s current comfort show, Nathan For You. “Can you imagine? Not being allowed to see anybody, having to stay in your fucking house all day long?”

“Sounds like what I’m already doing,” Frankie shrugged.

“No, puto. You wouldn’t get to hang out with me or the guys, wouldn’t get to see your girl, and I’m sure it’s not gonna make your split custody situation any easier.” Frankie turned to him with a concerned look. “Hey, but it’s all just talk for now. I’m sure it’s not gonna get that bad.”

“Let’s hope,” Frankie turned back to the screen, lifting his beer to his lips before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The realization that there might come a day soon that he wouldn’t have physical access to Mariposa made him all the more excited for their date tomorrow. “Hey, I’m gonna go down for a smoke. Can you watch Alondra?”

“Sure thing, Fish.”

Frankie made his way downstairs to the parking lot of his apartment complex, taking a cigarette out and lighting it as he waited for her to pick up his FaceTime.

“Hi, Rocketman.” Mariposa beamed at him through the screen with a playful grin.

“Hey, Mariposa,” he smiled back, leaning against the bumper of his jeep. “Are you busy?”

“No, just finishing up a paper. What are you up to? Is Alondra settled in?”

“Yeah, she’s inside with Santi. We just put together her crib, her changing table thing, and now we just have to finish up with the dresser.” He took an inhale of his cigarette and breathed it out, eyes fixed on her undone state, blown away that she somehow looked even better like this—hair in a bun, reading glasses on, an oversized sweatshirt with a stain on it. “Santi, uh, he just killed my mood a bit. He’s pretty good at that, you’ll come to realize when you get to know him.”

“What did he say?” She asked with a furrow in her brows, tone laced with concern.

“He just reminded me about the fact that we might all go on lockdown soon. Gonna make it a bitch to see Alondra…and to see you.” Mariposa gave him an empathetic smile, tilting her head at him. “If that happens, you know, mandatory quarantine or whatever…I guess I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. You know? Even if we can’t see each other in person for a while, I, uh…I really like you, so—I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. I’m in it.”

“I’m in it too, Frankie,” she beamed again. “Seriously, I…haven’t ever connected like this with someone before. So…a little lockdown isn’t gonna change that.”

“Good,” he chuckled shyly and nodded, eyes bouncing across her features adoringly.

“So…about that picture I sent earlier,” she bit her lip and looked away from the camera as she chuckled. “It wasn’t too much, right? I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m after or anything. I just…was in a mood, I guess and you’ve been such a gentleman, I just got a little…worked up over the thought of you.”

“Worked up, huh?” Frankie smirked and looked around at the empty parking lot before speaking again. “No, bebita, it wasn’t too much. Believe me when I say I’ve been thinking about it since you sent it.”

“I could…send another? If you’d like?” She gave him a hopeful smile before biting her lip again, Frankie having to calm his lower half at the sound of her voice turning just a bit more sultry than usual. As much as he wanted to see more of her, he also wanted to take it slow, not rush into anything and ruin the good thing that they were building.

“Mariposa, I’d love to see more of you, but what do you think about us taking it slow for now?” She looked shocked by his response, his heart rate speeding up as she went speechless. “Trust me, I want to see you. You’re so beautiful, baby, but…I’ve jumped into a lot of shit in the past really quickly and I don’t want this to be rushed like that, you know?”

“No, I get it,” she nodded, her eyes meeting his again. “I’m just not used to men treating me as good as you do, Frankie. Gonna take some getting used to.”

“I just care about us creating something lasting, Mariposa. I like you too much to risk ruining it for sex,” she smiled at him, all trace of her earlier disappointment gone. “So…on another note, tomorrow we’re gonna have a third wheel, I hope that’s okay.”

“Well, it depends on if it’s Santi or Alondra. Santi—not okay. Alondra—very okay.” He chuckled and asked out his cigarette, smiling at the thought of Mariposa and Alondra together. If Viviana was going to have her partner around their kid, he no longer felt guilty over the thought of his new love meeting his daughter.

“Bebe, I can promise you, I wouldn’t subject you to Santi this early on.”

“How’d you two meet?”

Frankie sat outside for another half-hour talking to Mariposa about his past in the military, how he met Santi and the rest of the boys, how he ended up here in Florida. It wasn’t until Santi came walking over with Alondra in his arms that he realized how long he’d been gone, suddenly feeling incredibly selfish for leaving his baby girl with his friend for so long.

“She made a poo-poo,” Santi whispered, handing over the stinky baby to his friend.

“Is that Santi?” Mariposa asked and Frankie sighed.

“Yeah,” Santi looked full of mischief as he plucked the phone out of Frankie’s hands and ran through the parking lot, knowing that his friend wouldn’t try to chase him with his daughter in his arms. “Well, hello there,” Santi greeted with his winning smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Did you just kidnap me?” She asked with an amused smirk, eating popcorn.

“Yeah, he’s keepin’ pretty mum about you besides the blushing and grinning. So I guess I gotta figure out if you’re a killer or something myself.” Santi watched as Frankie walked at a careful pace towards him. “You collect dead animals or anything like that?”

“No, no dead animals, unfortunately. Just one live one.” Santi watched as the camera was flipped around to show off her cat that Frankie had already come to love, Miles.

“Frankie’s a dog guy, babe. It ain’t gonna work.” Santi shrugged, unimpressed.

“Oh yeah? Frankie says otherwise.”

“Well, yeah, he’s trying to butter you up. Trust me, sweetie, daddy knows him better than you do.” She laughed at that, Santi taking it as a green flag that she was so at ease with his teasing.

“Are you daddy?” Frankie reached him in time to hear her question, giving Santi a confused smile and a head tilt.

“She keeps calling me daddy, I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie heard her scoff as he took his phone back, shaking his head into the camera, watching proudly as her eyes lit up at the sight of him. “I’m so glad you’re back. I think Santi’s trying to scare off his competition.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with me.” Frankie pushed Santi away from him playfully as they reached the stairs up to his apartment. “Mariposa, I gotta finish up this dresser so that I can send Santi back home and out of my face.”

“Okay, tell daddy and Alondra I said goodnight.”

“He’s not daddy. Don’t—that’s gonna go straight to his fucking head. Already too big,” Frankie chuckled and set Alondra down on her playmat. “Goodnight, mi Mariposa. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?”

“Can’t wait, Rocketman.” With that, Frankie reluctantly hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket, feeling a little better about his lockdown panic knowing that she was on the same page as him. It didn’t feel like they had a ticking countdown on their budding relationship anymore, both in it regardless of how often they got to see each other in person.

“I like her,” Santi spoke up as they started back on the dresser.

“Shut up.” Frankie was used to Santi’s sarcasm, not once hearing him genuinely compliment one of his past girlfriends aside from their looks.

“No, seriously. I like her. She’s funny, she seems like she’d be cool to hang out with. Nothing like the girls you usually go for.” Frankie smiled to himself, his friends approval meaning more to him than he’d ever care to admit.

“She just like…gets me? And likes talking to me? It’s wild.” Frankie focused on twisting the screw into place as he spoke to prevent a boyish grin from creeping onto his lips. “Just feels like her and I could sit and talk forever, you know? Haven’t had that kind of connection before. Like…Viviana? That was just sexual and coke-fueled, but I swore it was love. This isn’t like that, and it’s really nice.”

“Does she know about all that? The coke and shit?” Santi asked, dropping his typical playfulness to have a real conversation.

“Yeah, told her about it the first night we talked.” He set down the allen-wrench and looked at his friend with a smirk. “She was so understanding. Her parents were both addicts so, she gets it, ya know? And, anyways, it just makes me want to not slip back into all that even more. I don’t want her to have to deal with that shit from me.”

“That’s good, man. I’m glad you’re with someone who brings out good shit in you rather than…well, whatever Viviana brought out.” The boys stood up to lift the dresser upright, moving it from the living room and back into the bedroom. “Also doesn’t hurt that she’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frankie chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Mariposa was hot. And nice to talk to. And fucking funny. She was the total package and there was no way he was letting his ghosts or a little bug going around ruin that. He wasn’t about to let something this good slip from his fingers. He’d cure Covid himself if he had to.

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