Chapter 10

Andrew

 

The trip to the Alhambra meant being on shore by five o’clock. Eric and I tried to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, but getting in bed together meant one thing, and that one thing was not sleep. Worth it, though, even as I dragged myself down to the pier in the darkness and tried to keep my gritty eyes open. I was inclined to believe Eric felt the same. That or I was reading too much into those sleepy grins he kept giving me while we waited for the rest of our group to gather.

When everyone had disembarked, our guide—a Japanese woman named Kimmi in a bright yellow baseball cap—had us board a gigantic tour bus. I suppressed a groan. The drive from Málaga was going to be like two hours each way, and buses weren’t exactly the most comfortable means of transportation.

Except… holy shit. This was a cushy-ass bus. The seats were wide with high backs, so they actually had neck support and elbow room. Plus the cushions weren’t rock hard like I’d expected. Between the nice seats and my lack of sleep, I really shouldn’t have been surprised when I drifted off before the bus had even started moving. I closed my eyes, and what felt like a moment later, I opened them to slowly dawning daylight and a sign that said ALHAMBRA.

“Holy shit,” I said as I stretched. “I’m sorry—I completely racked out on you.”

“Hmm?” Eric lifted his head off my shoulder and blinked. “Did I fall asleep?”

I laughed. “Okay, now I don’t feel so bad. I think we both did.”

He chuckled, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Christ. You think they have coffee here?”

“God, I hope so.”

They did. After we’d filed off the bus with everyone else, Kimmi had us wait between the gift shop and a tiny café. By the time Kimmi returned with our tickets and headsets, everyone in the group was happily sipping steaming coffee.

The monument didn’t actually open until eight thirty, so we all waited and drank our coffee until the bored-looking guys with ticket scanners and metal detectors waved us in. By then, the sun was mostly up, and as Kimmi led us along a stone path through lush gardens, I was starting to wake up. Probably more from the coffee than anything.

At the top of a hill, we came to a high wall and tower made out of a pinkish stone. We crossed a bridge over what had once been a deep moat, and Kimmi pointed out everything from the architectural digs going on along the right side to the centuries-old doors and arches along the left. We passed through some fragrant gardens with artfully trimmed hedges, and followed a sloping cobblestone road past some slightly more modern looking buildings. A few had been converted into gift shops, and one was a workshop where craftsmen made elaborate lacquer mosaics on jewelry boxes, picture frames, tables, and a bunch of other wooden surfaces.

We reached the baths, and Kimmi led us inside. Our tour group, along with what looked like two others, crammed into a large room. While Kimmi told us about the Arabic lettering on the walls and the Moorish style of architecture and decoration, I tried not to notice just how many people were coming in. And how little breathing room there was. Plus the groups were starting to intermingle a bit. What if ours moved on and I didn’t notice because I couldn’t tell my group from the others? Where were we supposed to go if we got separated and—

“Hey.” Eric slid his hand into mine. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just, uh… not a fan of crowds. Especially if I can’t keep track of our group.”

“I know the feeling.” He slid his thumb alongside mine, the gesture surprisingly soothing. “Just keep an eye on our guide. As long as we stay with her, we’re good.”

I scanned the room and found Kimmi gesturing at a window. I could hear her voice in the earpiece, but couldn’t make out the words over my anxiety. Slowly, that anxiety started to ease. Okay, Eric had a point. I didn’t need to memorize everyone in the group. As long as I could see Kimmi, we were good.

Exhaling slowly, I concentrated on rubbing his thumb like he’d done to mine. I didn’t even care if anyone had an issue with two men holding hands. His touch kept me from getting anxious about losing sight of our guide or being stuffed into a room with too many people.

Before long, we were out in the open again. He kept his hand in mine for a little while longer, but at some point, one of us let go. Probably to take a picture or something. It wasn’t a sudden, decisive moment—I just realized after a while that we weren’t touching anymore. And I was okay with it. The contact had been reassuring when I’d needed it, and now I was perfectly comfortable just walking beside him. I didn’t need to keep a death grip on him.

We continued along the cobbled road to a Catholic church. Beyond that were more buildings, all of which seemed to come from different eras, plus some cannons along a high wall, and in the distance, the ruins of a castle. The Alcazaba, according to Kimmi. Eric and I both wanted to go check that out, but Kimmi assured us we’d have time for the Alcazaba later. First things first, we had to be at the entrance to the palace at exactly nine fifteen, or we’d lose our spot. Apparently the palace and gardens tour was even more strictly crowd-controlled than the monument itself, and they were not joking about entry times.

“Think we can break away before the gardens?” Eric asked under his breath as we followed the group to the palace. “Because I didn’t get up at the crack of dawn to look at flowers.”

I chuckled. “Oh come on. There has to be something more to it than just flowers if the tickets sell out so fast.”

“Okay, fair.” He wagged a finger at me. “But so help me, if it’s just tulips and daisies, I cannot be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes, and we continued into the palace. I couldn’t really argue with him. Gardens were pretty and all, but there was a goddamned castle on the premises. Don’t make me sniff roses, for fuck’s sake.

The palace was amazing. I knew next to nothing about the Moors, but the Arabic writing, Middle Eastern architecture, and elaborate arches, statues, and fountains were unreal. Even Eric listened intently to Kimmi’s narration, staring wide-eyed at everything as we walked. We didn’t talk much. In fact, we didn’t really interact at all aside from occasionally pointing something out—a frog sitting on a lily pad in a pond or some interesting inscriptions on a wall—but I still felt like I was here with him. Not like we happened to be in the same group, but together. Occasionally our fingers brushed. Once in a while, he’d rest a hand on the small of my back or I’d wrap an arm around his waist while we listened to Kimmi. He didn’t distract me from anything she said or from anything around us. He was just a constant presence that had me smiling almost constantly throughout the tour.

After the palace was the tour of the Generalife—the gardens.

I’d half expected to spend that tour yawning from boredom and trying to grab Eric before he went rogue and ditched the tour.

Turned out it wasn’t boring at all. Yeah, there were gardens and flowers and whatnot, but there were also stunning views of the palace and Alcazaba, not to mention Granada and the distant mountains. Then we reached a courtyard with a very large semi-fallen cyprus tree, and Kimmi told us a story about a king who’d suspected his wife had taken a lover. Since he couldn’t figure out who the lover was but knew which family the man came from, he had every member of the family beheaded right here in the courtyard. Legend had it that when the lover was beheaded, the cyprus tree died.

So much for tulips and daisies.