Chapter 12

Andrew

 

I had no idea what I’d expected Gibraltar to be. I’d known about the Rock, but that was about it.

As it turned out, Gibraltar pretty much was the Rock, and that was about it.

It was bigger than I expected. I’d thought it would be a sort of impressive boulder or something, but no, that thing stood up pretty damn high. Over four hundred meters, according to the guidebook my dad was reading out loud to my mom on the bus taking us from the ship into town.

“Town” turned out to be bigger than I’d thought it would be too. Narrow, tightly curving roads wound between houses and businesses huddled at the foot of the Rock. A person could probably walk from one end to the other without a lot of effort, but it was still a town.

The bus let us off at a parking lot where a bunch of white minivans were lined up with signs advertising taxi tours. Apparently only the taxis were allowed up on the Rock, and we broke into groups of six or so to pile into the vans and start our tours.

I was a bit disappointed when Eric got into one of the other vans, but we’d both agreed it might be kind of awkward to stuff both of us into close confines with my parents. I was having too much fun with Eric to let things get weird quite yet.

I watched Eric’s van drive off, and caught myself having second thoughts about my decision. With as little time as we were going to have together, the prospect of being apart—and yet so close—for three hours was depressing.

He was already gone with another group, though, so I joined my folks in the back row of a sort-of-air-conditioned van, and the tour started.

Our driver was a grizzled old guy in a tweed beret, and as he drove, he gave us the history of Gibraltar, like how many times it had changed hands over the centuries and how much of the town was built on reclaimed land. He spoke with an accent I’d never heard before. The only way I could describe it was British with a hint of Spanish. Which made sense, given that Spain was twelve feet away.

Before long, the road narrowed even more and the grade steepened. My mom made a point of not looking out the right side. I couldn’t blame her. Even when the driver was pointing out interesting facts about the harbor below us, that steep drop a few inches from the wheels was enough to make my stomach turn. I did look, though. The mild vertigo was worth it for the view of the harbor full of empty cargo ships waiting for their next load, the city of Algeciras on the other side, and to the south, a hazy glimpse of the coast of Morocco.

Further up, at the entrance to the nature preserve, our driver instructed us to get out and walk up to the Pillar of Hercules monument up ahead. He’d wait in line with all the other vans to get our tickets into the preserve, and then he’d pick us up.

A few steps behind my parents, I carefully picked my way along the narrow sliver of shoulder beside the idling vans, casting several wary glances at the steep slope to my right. I didn’t like that edge, so as soon as I’d cleared the vans and had some elbow room, I moved away from it before continuing up to the monument. It looked like a couple of bronze pillars maybe eight or ten feet tall with a big plaque in the middle that said—I guessed—the Pillars of Hercules. It was kind of cheesy and touristy, which explained all the tourists gathering for pictures in front of it, but beyond it, there were some telescopes by a sturdy metal railing. That seemed like a view worth checking out.

Sure enough, it was. From here, I had a panoramic view of the Straits of Gibraltar, the Med, and the Atlantic. Straight ahead was Morocco, which was hard to see thanks to the haze, but it was definitely closer than I’d realized. Even from here I could make out, in addition to the jagged mountains, a few cities at the water’s edge.

Of course the viewpoint also had an unobstructed view of the sharp drop-off right in front of the railing and inches from my feet. How people could sit on or lean against that railing, I had no idea, because if it gave, it was a hell of a tumble down to what looked like some industrial buildings and maybe even a military base and—

“Don’t like heights?” Eric’s voice startled me, and I turned just as he appeared beside me, eyes hidden behind wraparound sunglasses.

“Oh, hey.” I smiled, then glanced at the cliff below. “And no, not really a fan.”

“So, I’m gonna guess that’s a no on trying out the ship’s climbing wall?”

I was pretty sure I felt the color leaving my face.

Eric elbowed me playfully. “I’m kidding. I’m not into that shit either.”

“Damn. And here I was hoping I’d get to watch.”

He chuckled. He started to say something, but a voice turned his head, and he frowned. “My van’s leaving. Gotta go.” Despite the dark lenses, I didn’t miss the wink as he added, “See you in the cave.”

Before I could say anything, he left, jogging to catch up with his group as they piled into their van. Man. We really should’ve taken the same van.

My own group wasn’t far behind his, though. Our van continued up more steep, narrow roads complete with switchbacks and signs warning the drivers to watch out for monkeys. Our driver told us about how cannons used to be raised to the top of the Rock using horses, ropes, and the big metal eyebolts still sticking out of rocks. Somehow, that wasn’t helping my vertigo. Beside me, Mom shuddered.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded, though she did look a little green. “Thinking about them dragging cannons up the hillside is making it seem even steeper.”

“I know, right?”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Dad patted Mom’s leg. “These roads are good and solid, and these drivers come up here every day. Nothing to worry about.”

“Says you,” I muttered.

Mom chuckled. We exchanged looks and both laughed. At least the tension between us at the beginning of the trip seemed to be over. Funny how that worked once we were done with the jetlag and had had some time to relax. We really did get along most of the time. Stress and lack of sleep just made both of us difficult to be around and extra difficult to be around each other. My poor dad.

Once again, our van stopped behind a bunch of others, this time on a stretch of road leading to a dark brown wooden building. According to our guide, that was the gift shop and the entrance to St. Michal’s Cave, which was supposed to be a natural cave that had been converted into a concert venue or something.

“I don’t think I’m going into the cave,” Mom said as we walked up the slope to the building. “My knee’s acting up a little today.”

Dad nodded. “I’ll stay with her. Andrew, you go on ahead.”

I was tempted to pass on the cave, but then I saw Eric heading for the entrance. “Okay. I’ll meet you guys back up here?”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” Mom smiled. “The guide said we have half an hour.”

Half an hour didn’t seem like much time to explore a cave, but maybe it wasn’t all that big. And besides, Eric was in it. I didn’t plan on exploring anything except his mouth.

My own thought almost made me stumble. Jesus. When had I turned into such a horndog?

About the time I got into bed with him, apparently.

Well, I liked it, so I didn’t fight it, and I headed down the stone stairs into the cave.

They weren’t kidding about the cave being a concert venue. At the end of a short tunnel, under a ceiling covered in impressive stalactites, permanent seats had been installed in front of a stage. I had to wonder what the acoustics were like.

Colorful lights bathed every surface in red, then blue, then green, then purple.

And there, by the back row of seats taking a picture with his phone, was Eric.

“Hey,” I said.

He turned, not seeming the least bit surprised to see me, and grinned, his face half-eclipsed and half drenched in purple light. He glanced past me. “Where are your folks?”

I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb. “They decided to hang in the gift shop.”

The grin on his lips turned wicked, and the lights picked just that moment to transition to a deep red. “So that means I have you all to myself for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, it does.” I wrapped an arm around his waist. “And you look like Satan, grinning like that under red lights.”

He laughed, which instantly killed the effect. Then he held out his hand. “Come on. There aren’t as many people down that way.”

I followed him down the steps between the rows of seats, up onto the stage, and back to another tunnel. Sure enough, there were fewer people. Most seemed to like the basic loop—come in, check out the auditorium, follow the tunnel out. This was a slightly larger one for people who wanted to see more of the cave.

Or steal a minute to make out.

Which was exactly what we did as soon as the tunnel bent and gave us a dark corner to take advantage of.

Eric pushed me up against the rough, cold wall, and his lips were hot and needy against mine. I held him tight, my head spinning from both arousal and the certainty I was going to lose track of time and someone was going to come looking for us. I almost laughed at that. At the ridiculousness of it. Eric and I were both well past our teens, but there was something about this that took me back to my high school days. Sneaking around. Trying to slip below Mom and Dad’s radar. Of course, we weren’t going to get in trouble if we got caught—things would just be a little awkward—but there was something to be said for the thrill of a stolen kiss during a private moment in the shadows.

“Next time the ship stops,” I murmured, “I almost want to rent a car so we can go make out somewhere.”

He grinned into my kiss. “We do have some more ports coming up.”

“Mmhmm. We do.”

“There’s also that theater on the ship.” He slid his hands into my back pockets. “We could always, you know, catch a matinee.”

“Which we would watch closely and discuss in detail afterward, right?”

“Absolutely.” He nipped my lower lip, then drew back a little, his face just barely visible in the cave’s dim light. “We should get back up there before our guides start getting twitchy.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” I tried not to let my disappointment make it into my voice. “Guess no one will think twice if we walk up together, though, right?”

“Can’t imagine why they would.”

We stole one last kiss in the shadows, then followed the tunnel and the other tourists back out to the blinding daylight.

When we came out, my parents didn’t even notice. They had joined a group gathering around something and taking pictures. As we got closer, I realized what they were looking at—one of the apes was sitting on the railing above the parking lot. They all kept a fairly safe distance, and the ape sat there, looking a little bored while everyone took pictures.

From the posters and brochures, I’d thought the apes would be a lot smaller. If the one on the railing had been sitting on the ground beside me, though, its head would’ve been slightly higher than my knee.

Something clanged behind us, and we both turned just in time to see one of the shopkeepers chasing another ape out the store. It scuttled up the fence and onto the hillside, where it promptly sat down and started eating the pastry it had stolen. It looked pretty pleased with itself. Considering it had nabbed a chocolate éclair with sprinkles? Hell, I’d have been smug too.

Minutes later, drivers started calling us back to our vans. Eric and I exchanged a wicked look—oh, tonight was going to be amazing—and returned to our respective vehicles. There was another stop not far beyond this one, so it wasn’t like I wouldn’t see him again in just a few minutes.

The vans continued their slow climb up the treacherous, narrow road. On a particularly steep straightaway, traffic slowed to nearly a stop.

Out of nowhere, an ape jumped onto the roof of the van in front of us, then onto the hood of ours before climbing onto the side mirror. To my surprise, the driver rolled down the window and handed the ape a date.

“There you go, you little piggy,” the driver said in his lyrical accent. “No, no.” He wagged a finger as the ape reached inside. “No more. Get back.” The ape swiped at him, then lunged in through the window, snatched an armload of dates, and left again.

The passengers in my van were equally divided between amused and horrified by the intrusion.

“That thing got in the car?” an old lady yelped, huddling against her husband. “Aren’t they dangerous?”

“No, no.” The driver waved dismissively as he rolled up the window. “They know which drivers have snacks. Just be careful when you get out of the car. They’ll steal anything they can get their little hands on.”

The vans rolled forward a few more feet before the driver stopped again. “Okay. Up ahead, there’s a feeding area for the monkeys. Go ahead up there, and I’ll pick you up in fifteen, twenty minutes, yeah?”

We all piled out of the van, leaving behind hats and purses. I noticed everyone was holding onto their phones a bit more protectively than usual too.

We followed the passengers from the other vans up to where he’d indicated. Sure enough, there was a feeding area, and there must’ve been thirty apes running around. Some were only about knee-high on me. Others were a few inches bigger. There were babies, too—tiny ones clinging to their mothers, and a few slightly older ones keeping a cautious eye on the people.

Someone had scattered vegetables and halved red potatoes all over a couple of enclosures. Signs warned us to stay out of the enclosures and not mess with the food. Seemed like common sense to me, but people could be idiots.

The apes moved freely in and out of the enclosures, wandering between people, begging for food, and getting into everything. One was pawing through a lady’s handbag while her husband laughed his head off and took photos. Another was enthralled with a little girl’s light-up sneakers.

Some shrieking startled everyone, and we all froze as three apes chased each other through the crowd, teeth bared like they weren’t playing.  After that, a few people moved back to the safety of their vans.

I kept a solid grip on my phone and took some pictures. I’d expected to see one or two apes if we were lucky, and I sure as hell hadn’t thought we’d get so close. This was amazing. Some of them lounged on railings and fences. Some wandered around in search of handouts. Others nibbled on their food while casting disinterested glances at the gawking humans.

A baby ape sat on the side mirror of one of the vans. Another tugged at a windshield wiper while two of the adults wrestled on the roof.

And then Eric appeared, dark sunglasses warding off the Mediterranean sun. He glanced at me and gave me a nod, but paused to take a picture of an ape nibbling on a potato. Fine by me—it was the perfect chance for me to snag a picture of him. And the ape. But mostly him.

As he stood, checking the screen on his camera, he said, “I could seriously stay here all day.” He was grinning like a little kid. “These things are amazing.”

“Right?” And that was before I saw how they make your eyes light up. “I didn’t realize they’d be—”

Someone shoved my shoulder, hitting me hard enough to knock me forward a step. I was about to spin around and get in their face when I realized there was still a weight on my shoulder. And something tugging at my hair.

All around me, people gasped and started snapping pictures of the ape who’d decided to use me as a perch. A few people stared in horror, and I heard someone whisper that they hoped it didn’t bite me. Now that they mentioned it, I agreed.

Beside me, Eric clapped a hand over his mouth and laughed. “Hey, uh, looks like you’ve got a monkey on your back.”

“Uh. Yeah. I do.” I turned my head as much as I could so I could look at the ape without looking him in the eye. He wasn’t one of the enormous ones, but he was pretty solid. Easily thirty pounds or so. No wonder he’d knocked me around when he’d landed on me.

He didn’t seem interested in biting me, though. If anything, he was fascinated with my hair. That or he was checking me for ticks. It felt weird, having little fingers running through and tugging at my hair.

“Look at me,” Eric said.

I faced him, and he snapped a couple of pictures with his phone.

As he pocketed the phone again, he said, “Now let’s just hope it doesn’t pee on you.”

“Aw, crap.” I grimaced. “I was just worried about him biting me, but—”

Out of nowhere, the ape leaped off me, his momentum making me stumble back. He landed on Eric, snatched his sunglasses, and bolted.

“You little fucker!” Eric shouted. “Those were Oakley’s!”

I snorted. “Didn’t your driver tell you to leave everything in the car?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on sticking my face close enough to a monkey to lose my sunglasses.” He huffed, glaring after the ape, who was now trying to keep the sunglasses away from two of his buddies.

“Chalk it up as a learning experience, right?”

He shifted his glare to me, but then laughed. “Yeah. Something like that. Damn it, now I need to go shopping for a new pair.”

“Pretty sure there’s a bunch of shops onboard that sell them.”

Eric snorted. “For ten times what they’re worth, yeah.” He gestured vaguely toward the town of Gibraltar way down at the foot of the Rock. “The tour ends on High Street, so I’ll check some of the shops down there. Even a cheap set will tide me over for the rest of the trip.”

“Maybe a spare pair, too. Just in case you get mugged by another monkey.”

He rolled his eyes. “Asshole.”

I just laughed. “Anyway, we better get back to our vans. See you at the next stop?”

“See you there.” We exchanged grins, and as much as I was used to not being demonstrative with men in public—even Iowa was only so progressive—it was frustrating not being able to touch him outside of a shadowy cave.

Oh well. Tonight, back on the ship, he was all mine.

As I headed back to my own van, my parents joined me.

“Are you okay?” My dad’s lopsided grin said he knew I was fine. “That monkey looked like he almost knocked you over.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. Little bastard just startled me.”

My mom held up her camera triumphantly. “I got some great pictures of him sitting on you!”

“You and everyone else,” I said with a laugh. “At least he didn’t pee on me.”

Mom wrinkled her nose. “You would’ve been riding back in another van if that had happened.”

“Hey! What the hell?”

My parents laughed. I glanced up ahead at the other vans, and…well, riding in another van wouldn’t have been an entirely terrible thing. Aside from the part where I’d have been covered in monkey pee, anyway.

The tour continued along more winding roads and switchbacks before we stopped again outside the entrance to the World War II Caves. People were moving in and out of the caves, but there was a thick crowd around the railing overlooking the town below. From what a tour guide was saying, apparently a plane was minutes away from coming in to land on the famously dangerous runway of the Gibraltar Airport. I could see why it was dangerous—there was no wiggle room if a plane touched down too soon or didn’t stop quickly enough. Though the airstrip was long, there was water on each end.

My parents and another guy from our van stopped to take pictures of an ape hanging out on the railing, and I surreptitiously made my way through the crowd to Eric. When I reached him, he glanced at me, flashing a quick grin, and brushed his knuckles across mine. The featherlight contact sent a jolt of electricity through me; I doubted anyone had noticed and was pretty sure no one would have cared, but there was something thrilling about touching another man in public. Especially this man.

While we waited for the plane to come in, we all snapped some pictures of the scenery. From here we had a cool view of the town of Gibraltar, which fanned out from directly below us from partway up the Rock out onto its cramped piece of land. Our cruise ship was visible from here, and the giant vessel made the town look even smaller. The edge of the town was firmly established by the runway cutting across, and just beyond that was the Spanish border. From there, the towns of La Linea and El Roque sprawled out much more comfortably on a broader chunk of land that continued up into scrubby desert-looking hills. To our left, Algeciras. To the right, the Med.

Some voices caught my attention, and I looked to the left like everyone else.

And coming in hot from the Algeciras side, a commercial plane with a logo I couldn’t read from here.

Everyone watched, and I swore they were all holding their breath. I wasn’t sure what they expected; yeah, it was a dangerous runway, but it wouldn’t be in use if the planes didn’t land without incident most of the time.

Though even I got a little tense when it looked for a few seconds like the rear wheels were going to hit water instead of blacktop. For all I knew, the pilot had miles of wiggle room, but from here, it really did look like he’d made it by the skin of his teeth.

Once the wheels were down and the danger was over, the plane started taxiing toward the microscopic terminal and the crowd around us dispersed. Most people headed toward the cave entrance, but I hung back. Caves were cool and all, but not when they were crowded.

And besides, Eric was out here.

Now that there was room, he moved toward the edge to rest his forearms on the railing. He looked out at the scenery below us, and while he gazed at Gibraltar and Spain, I gazed at him.

We were high above the town of Gibraltar in one of those places not a lot of people ever got to visit, with a view not a lot of people ever got to see…and I just couldn’t take my eyes off him. I barely even noticed the abrupt drop below us, which said a lot.

Eric had to squint a little without his sunglasses, but that was fine by me. I liked his eyes and the way they crinkled at the corners, especially when he smiled. Which he did a lot. He had such a gorgeous smile, and such beautiful eyes, and everything from his neatly-trimmed beard to the angle of his jaw to the curve of his neck could hold my attention even more than a bunch of monkeys on a rock.

Christ, Andrew. You’ve only known him for a few days.

Yep. A few days. And I’ve got it bad.

Which was stupid. We’d just met. He’d just come out of a long and very serious relationship. I was an idiot if I thought this was anything more than a vacation fling. In under two weeks, we’d friend each other on Facebook, maybe exchange a few comments on posts, and then start mindlessly scrolling past updates the same way we did with high school classmates we hadn’t engaged with in years. The cruise would be, in the long run, like those little interludes we’d had whenever our vans had stopped—a short blip of togetherness in between longer stretches of…not.

He was fun to be around. The sex was amazing. He was definitely easy on the eyes. None of that meant it had to be—or could be—forever. This short-term thing was all we could offer each other, and it was enough.

But I could already tell I was seriously going to miss him when it was over.