Stay a Little Longer Read online

  also by dawn lanuza

  The Last Time I’ll Write About You

  The Boyfriend Backtrack

  What About Today

  The Hometown Hazard

  Break-Up Anniversary

  You Are Here

  To #romanceclass,

  for fighting the good fight.

  what’s too far said he

  where you are said she

  e. e. cummings

  part

  “Something has given my poor warm life

  Into the hand of someone random

  Who doesn’t know what even yesterday I was.”

  rainer maria rilke

  one

  It had been a long ride. Elan had ridden a bus for hours to the small town of San Juan to get his car. Normally, he found public transportation troublesome, but the moment he saw his friend Jules opening the gate for him, he stopped feeling antsy. Not even a bit unsettled.

  He was just thankful.

  And pathetic, because that guy waiting by the door was obviously the reason why Jules suddenly left the city as fast as she could. That’s how Elan’s car ended up in this driveway. That’s why he was here in this town.

  How had he ended up on the outside, while she was here with someone else? Well, Elan knew he’d had it coming. He’d seen her every day for the last few years but never made a move.

  “I’m so sorry.” She started apologizing as soon as she spotted him crossing the street toward the gate. It was an impressive gate. It screamed, “Rich people live here; don’t even think about robbing us.”

  “I was supposed to ask someone to drive it back for you, but I—”

  “Honestly, Jules,” Elan replied as she took a step toward him. “It’s all right. We’re still on vacation, remember? It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit.”

  Lie. Having grown up in the city, Elan wasn’t used to small towns. He and his friends had flown to Bali a couple of weeks ago, but he ended up feeling even more anxious. He needed his life to be on schedule, and sitting by the beach for hours, no matter how beautiful it was, only made him think of how much time was passing by.

  “Well.” Her eyes darted to the other guy waiting by the door. Elan followed her gaze and took in the other man— his competition, so to speak—but it looked like he’d already won.

  The guy walked toward them with a small smile on his face. To be polite, Elan guessed. He knew that smile only too well. He’d used it on many occasions throughout his life.

  The guy stopped, still a step away from Jules, and nodded at Elan. “Hey, man.”

  He nodded back. “Sorry. Was I early?”

  It did look like they’d just gotten up—eyes glazed, hair messy, clothes wrinkled. But it was almost noon. Was that usual for small towns?

  Jules finally spoke up: “Kip, this is Elan.”

  The guy nodded again, as if he recognized his name. He extended his hand, and Elan took it. “Sorry ’bout the car. We were going to take it back, but everything’s just been hectic with the move.”

  Elan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Jules sighed, “I owe you so much, seriously. Have you had breakfast yet?”

  Of course he had.

  She checked her watch, rolled her eyes. “I meant lunch! We should get something ordered—”

  “I’d love to, Jules,” Elan interrupted. “But I actually need to get back today.”

  That wasn’t a lie. He needed to get back because he had errands early tomorrow and he needed his car.

  “Well,” she took a deep breath. “Thank you so much for lending it to me again. I promise, whatever you want—name it—I’ll make sure you get it.”

  Kip raised an eyebrow, hiding a knowing smile as he took a sip of coffee. She cleared her throat. “I mean, as long as it’s reasonable.”

  Elan raised his hand to get the keys, and Jules obliged, dropping them squarely into his palm. He walked over to the car, giving her another look before opening the door.

  “Wait!” he heard someone scream.

  Elan looked around and saw a girl running out of the house, dragging a huge suitcase behind her.

  She was looking at him, so she must have wanted him to wait for her.

  He stood there, one hand on the door handle, mouth slightly agape, as she approached him.

  The first thing he noticed was her lips. Bright and red and full. Then there was her hair, jet black and slightly unruly after the run. She was tall and quite intimidating, especially with her eyes covered by huge, dark sunglasses.

  “I’m coming with you,” she announced. Like this had been discussed. Like this was supposed to happen. Like he shouldn’t say no.

  He sucked in a breath, glancing back at Jules for an introduction or a confirmation, but the girl was already talking. “Excuse me. Hey you, sir, could you open up your trunk, please?”

  Jules only smiled at him nervously. So Elan did what he did best: he put on a smile and agreed. He walked over and helped the girl with her suitcase.

  “Oh God.” Caty folded and unfolded her legs. She’d been shifting in her seat for the last fifteen minutes. She felt uncomfortable sitting next to a guy she didn’t know.

  What was his name again? Last night they mentioned he was coming to pick up his Jeep. He was a classmate from law school or something. He didn’t look like a lawyer or even someone who’d be one soon. She still found it weird that people her age could be called lawyers. For the longest time, she thought that was a job for old and boring men.

  This guy did not look old at all. He looked like the kind of guy you saw in high school but didn’t get to know because he liked to sit in a corner, all quiet and brooding. You wouldn’t really notice him until the growth spurt finally kicked in. He would be the one who shocked everyone during the reunion, the little underdog. He just had that look about him. He was attractive but obviously didn’t know how much or didn’t care to inquire. He also had the most interesting nose—slightly crooked on the bridge, like it was broken in a brawl or a tackle. It gave the impression that he was more dangerous than he intended.

  Yet he had his shirt all tucked in, hair coiffed neatly. He looked like the nicest boy in town.

  Only he hadn’t looked at her since he started driving, and he hadn’t said one word. She wasn’t sure if he was shy or just unapproachable.

  This was the most uncomfortable drive she’d ever been on, and that included the ride she once shared with a woman whom an ex-boyfriend was currently seeing. With the ex-boyfriend in the same car.

  She cleared her throat, assessing her situation: she was about to fly back to Toronto. Her parents had just sold her childhood home, and she didn’t want to be too emotional about it. After all, San Juan wasn’t her home anymore. She’d been away since moving to Toronto about a decade ago.

  “So, you’re Juliana’s friend, right?” Caty started, figuring that he wouldn’t talk unless she did.

  He paused. “Yeah, Jules.”

  Jules. How chummy. She’d been a friend of Juliana’s since they were babies, but she was never just Jules.

  “Thanks for giving me a ride, by the way,” she said, getting that out of the way. “I’m glad to finally get out of there, you know?”

  His eyebrows furrowed.

  She felt the need to explain. “Not that it isn’t great. It is. My brother and my best friend. Together. That’s, like, a porn story line.”

  He swerved right about the time she said that last bit, and it was too funny to watch him try to recover. He let out a nervous laugh and bit his lip as if to stop himself from s
howing emotion.

  It would have worked, she thought, if it were someone else she knew better. It was an icebreaker of sorts, a funny ha-ha comment that should have relieved the awkwardness. But not with a complete stranger, and not in the Philippines, where sex was not something you talked about with a person you’ve only just met. Also, porn was definitely a taboo word.

  Great, she’d made it more awkward.

  Caty looked away, wincing at herself. “Sorry, wrong thing to say.”

  She didn’t see how he reacted, didn’t even hear a response. She thought there was still some time left before they reached their destination, and the silence was starting to annoy her. It would have helped if there were music in the background, but the radio wasn’t on either. It was just so . . . quiet.

  Caty glanced at him. “Well, we’re stuck together now. We have to talk about something.”

  “And porn’s the first thing that came to mind?”

  Her eyes slanted. “Like sex isn’t something you think about.”

  He licked his lower lip and bit back a smile.

  Really, what did she have to do to make this guy even grin? She frowned and itched to ask him why he was so poor at handing out smiles and eye contact. Granted, they were strangers, but they were currently sharing a space and could at least be polite.

  But maybe he already was being polite to her. She had asked him for a favor by giving her a ride.

  Caty decided to pull back. “I didn’t mean like you give off a creepy vibe. You don’t. We can just talk about, I don’t know, how old this car is.”

  He snorted as soon as the word old left her mouth.

  All right, Caty thought. This guy is stuck-up. He couldn’t possibly have been offended by that. She was just really curious. Her father had taught her to like cars, and she knew the older ones often had interesting histories.

  She clicked her tongue and took off her sunglasses, his silence starting to make her feel bad about what she’d just said, even though she hadn’t meant for it to come off that way. She racked her brain for something else to say, but really, he should be the one to break the silence so she could stop saying the wrong things.

  Yet he just sat there, focused on the road. This guy can’t be so boring, Caty thought. After all, he’s Juliana’s friend. From what she could gather, Juliana liked him, but they didn’t date or fool around.

  That’s Juliana. She was mostly anti–fooling around, even when they were kids. She liked rules and wanted things to be in order.

  Caty tried again. “Okay, you can pick the topic. I’ll bite.”

  She sensed his hesitation. His arms stiffened as he squeezed the steering wheel. If he hadn’t been so focused on being uninterested in socializing, she would have thought he was really cute.

  Then, “Fine. I suppose you can tell me about your childhood.”

  She paused. “Wow.”

  “Wow?”

  “Wow,” Caty repeated. “That’s very first date-y. Or not even. At least the third date.”

  “You have to wait for a third date to talk about your childhood?”

  “Yeah,” Caty nodded. “Third date’s the time to decide if you’re gonna keep seeing the dude. He passed the impression test on the first date, and let’s face it, the second one is a do-over. Just to make sure he’s really cute without the beer goggles on.”

  She slowed down, watching his reaction. His eyebrows raised then knitted. He didn’t smile, but boy did his eyes talk.

  “Beer goggles,” he repeated, saying that a little bit slower. “What kind of first dates have you been having?”

  “Fun ones,” she replied. “And don’t judge, Judy.”

  He snorted. He thinks that’s funny? But it was a reaction, finally.

  “So what do you talk about on first dates?” He finally glanced at her, eyes slowly scanning her face before turning back. Then he did a peculiar thing: sort of shuddered and made it look like he was clearing his throat.

  “Oh,” Caty cooed. “Why? Is this a first date?”

  “No, no,” he said, as if that was a silly idea. “I’m just asking since you were so against talking about your childhood.”

  “I’m not against it,” Caty shrugged. “I’m just saying. Those are things you don’t ask people right off the bat.”

  “But asking them if they’ve seen porn is?”

  She widened her eyes. Now there he is. She’s getting warmer. He’s starting to show some personality, doing more than simply shaking his head, crossing his eyebrows, or snorting at her.

  “Hey, I didn’t ask. I just said,” she clarified. “Everybody’s seen porn. I absolutely won’t believe it if you say you haven’t.”

  “I didn’t,” he said. Was that a shadow of a smile on his lips?

  Caty kept her eyes on him. “What’s your name again?”

  The smile on his lips finally formed. It was reserved and polite but a smile, still. “Elan.”

  “I’m Caty, by the way. In case you’ve forgotten by now and are too scared to ask again.”

  “I haven’t,” he snapped.

  Caty leaned back. “Elan, huh? Where did that come from?”

  “The dictionary,” he answered flatly. So he was funny, after all. Caty felt herself smiling triumphantly for having coaxed a joke out of his polite-to-the-point-of-stuck-up exterior. “It’s French. I think it means enthusiasm or something like that.”

  “Are you French?”

  “Non,” he answered.

  “Ah, parlez-vous français?”

  He paused. “I’ve been asked that question more than once, and sometimes I say, ‘Oui,’ and then I take it back.”

  “You shouldn’t. You should keep faking it.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know any other French words.”

  “I can teach you,” Caty offered. Sure, they only had a little time left, and they’d just met, but she could teach him a thing or two.

  “You speak French?”

  “A little bit. It was an elective at school. Not that I paid much attention. I visited Montreal a couple of times and learned the language better.”

  “So I take it you actually knew what my name meant?”

  “Well,” she answered, “no. I only speak tourist. I don’t think élan is used in everyday conversations.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can teach you how to say important phrases, though.”

  “Like?”

  “Voulez-vous coucher—”

  “All right,” he cut her off. “I know what that means.”

  Caty cackled, “Good. I was testing you.”

  Elan gave her a look—one eyebrow arched—and something struck her about what he was doing. If he wasn’t too careful, someone might confuse it with calculated seduction.

  He couldn’t be flirting with her, could he? That would be a weird turnaround of events considering how they started. They had been stumbling so bad and were just starting to find a rhythm.

  “Je m’en fous,” Caty coughed.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You have to say it first. Je m’en fous.”

  He pressed his lips together as if he was thinking about making an excuse not to do it, but he failed.

  Caty laughed. “You don’t have to look constipated. The French language is very sexy.”

  “And complicated. It’s never spoken how it’s spelled.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t seem to have a lot of élan today, Elan.”

  “Well,” he sighed, “it’s a tough name to live up to.”

  She laughed, more like a cackle. He was really funny, she decided, and she was finally starting to enjoy the ride.

  “What about your name? Where did it come from?”

  “Catalina,” Caty answered with a wince. “Nothing special. My parents
liked naming their kids after ancestors.”

  “It’s also the name of a saint,” he pointed out.

  “I heard.”

  “She was a martyr.”

  Caty took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, look at that. We’re both saddled with names we can’t possibly live up to.”

  Elan threw her a glance, and she offered a quick smile.

  “This is good.” Caty nodded mostly to herself, adjusting her position on the seat. “Talking about the origins of our names, I’ll keep it in mind as good first-date material.”

  “You get a lot of first dates?”

  She found his question funny. “Sure. Don’t you?”

  “Not really.”

  Ah. Caty felt smug. So her theory about Elan not being the most popular person in school might be true. “I get why you’re friends with Juliana now.”

  two

  Did he actually shudder?

  He had. He’d looked into her eyes and shuddered. He almost cursed but managed to clear his throat.

  She had an air of confidence. He’d seen that as soon as she ran from the house to his car, and who could blame her? She was attractive, and she probably knew it, had probably played her looks to her advantage for most of her life.

  But her eyes were a different story. She was doe-eyed, looking at him with sincere interest—or at least he thought. Whether or not it was true, he thought she really had the most beautiful, expressive eyes.

  Then she laughed, which broke the image he had of her the first time they met. Granted, that was only minutes ago, but it felt like she was starting to unravel.

  She said she was Jules’s best friend, which did not make sense. For as long as he’d known her, Jules had been quiet and mysterious. It was like the freaking Great Wall of China surrounded her. She was sealed and airtight. So that dude she was with earlier? He must have torn down that wall.

  When Caty had said the word friends, it clung to him like a terrifying leech sucking on his back. He wouldn’t mind if it came from somebody else, but somehow this girl made his friendship with Jules a terrible thing.