My airline no longer flies into MIA, but I can clearly recall several amazing layovers there (from a past life, with a different company!). Somewhere near Coconut Grove, there was a bar there with sand on the floor and a mini indoor volleyball net...which I had to make good use of, obviously.
Every city has its own personality, but Miami is in a category of its own. It's vibrant, loud, and unapologetic. My nights there felt truly magical, like a whirlwind fictional tale just waiting to be written.
Callie adores the SoFlo vibe too, although this time around, her trip is quite different from previous ones. In a good way, that is.
Xoxo,
Lisa
***
I scoot an inch closer and nestle into his neck. He wraps an around me, covering my shoulders. Say it now? I debate. Andrew tilts my chin up, so I’m facing him. His eyes are bigger than ever, two dark brown spheres of kindness and warmth.
“I wonder when you’re going to get sick of my bullshit,” I say with a half-snort. “I’m not exactly the easiest person in the world to deal with…”
His brows furrow. “Fine by me. I don’t mind your bullshit at all.”
That’s because you don’t know everything I’ve done, I reflect. I hold his face in my hands, pausing for a split second. His skin feels warm against my fingertips.
Then I press my lips to his, enjoying the familiarity of this kiss. Andrew is cautious and thoughtful, adjusting his arm around my back so that I can lean into him comfortably. He pulls me toward him, kissing my mouth first, then making his way to my neck.
I tilt my head slightly back. His hands have migrated to my waist. I sense both desire and tenacity in his touch; his eagerness is equally matched by restraint.
Briefly, I open my eyes. This hotel room is just dim enough, just quiet enough that if I don’t speak up, we could both get lost in this moment.
I inhale and search for my voice.
“Maybe we should go,” Andrew murmurs, reading my mind. “Otherwise, we might stay here all night. I’d love to-”
“We are on the same page,” I interrupt, well aware of all the things he would like to do in this hotel room because I want to do them too. “Tess would think we stood her up and I would end up going to bed hungry.”
Andrew rises to his feet and pulls me onto mine. “We can’t have that, right? Let’s go get food.”
We walk to the elevators, hands clasped together. I text Tess to meet us in the lobby while Andrew checks his phone.
“Hey guys. Nice to meet you, Andrew,” Tess says when she approaches us.
We are standing near the entrance, our fingers still interlocked.
“You too,” Andrew responds. “I heard this is your first time in Miami.”
We walk outside together, a blast of tepid air swirling around our faces. I glance at the sky as we advance toward Andrew’s Mazda. Hundreds of stars shimmer overhead, some of them occasionally winking.
“I was here once before, but it was a short layover. I didn’t leave the hotel,” Tess explains.
We pile into the car and buckle up. Tess is in the backseat. I’m riding up front with Andrew. I lower the window, letting a warm breeze into the car. Andrew steers us down wide streets, glittered with fluorescent lights and quirky storefronts.
“It’s beautiful,” Tess murmurs, her voice filled with wonder.
“Miami is the busiest, flashiest city in Florida,” I tell her. “I love the glamour of it. But it’s totally different from Orlando, which feels a lot more residential.”
“Then there’s Jacksonville, which is pretty much South Georgia. People there even have Southern accents,” Andrew notes.
I nod as we cruise to a stop in front of red light. A Cadillac pulls up one side of our car and a shiny black Porsche rests beside us on the other side. “I went to school in Gainesville, which is a fun college town,” I explain. “Everything nearby is pretty rural, though.”
“Hey, how’s Fort Myers?” Tess asks. “I have a long overnight there in a couple weeks, and I was hoping to visit the beach.”
“We were just in Fort Myers,” Andrew informs her, pulling into a massive parking garage. We wind around, level after level, searching for an open spot. “It’s a sleepy little retirement community, but the beaches are a lot less crowded than in other cities.”
“And the crew hotel is literally on the water,” I say. “There’s a swimming pool and then right behind it, bam: the ocean.”
Tess releases a contented sigh as Andrew parks the car. We’re probably a dozen floors up; the garage is completely packed. There are luxury cars, sedans, shiny motorcycles, and everything in between.
“That’s awesome. Honestly, I can’t wait,” Tess notes. “I’ve been in California my whole life. The beaches are way too cold to go swimming. I’m excited to finally dip my toes in the water."
We exit the car and walk toward the elevators, stopping briefly to check out the view. The walls of the garage have large square cutouts, essentially windows without any glass. Tonight the sky’s just clear enough for us to see all the way to the water’s edge. Andrew’s fingers find mine, once again, as we marvel at the bright lights of this South Florida metropolis. His hands are cool but not clammy, and soft to the touch. I’ve never been a fan of romantic displays of affection before. But with Andrew, this feels natural. It feels right.
After soaking up the spectacular view for a few moments, we ride an elevator down to the street level. Tiny yellow lights cover all the trees. We advance toward a large roundabout, passing bars and boutiques along the way.
“How do you two feel about Mexican food? There’s a new place that got great reviews,” Andrew tells us.
“Sounds good to me,” Tess says.
“I’m in,” I announce. Andrew steers us toward a restaurant with a vintage golden awning. The restaurant’s interior strikes me as both trendy and rustic. Exposed beams stretch across the the ceiling. The walls have been stained various neutral colors, with the grain of the wood visible. There’s a taco bar on one side and a liquor bar on the other. A hostess seats us at a big booth; it’s more than enough space for the three of us.
Andrew checks his phone while Tess and I glance over the menu.
“My buddy Connor might join us,” he announces. “He lives in Coconut Grove, which isn’t far from here.”
“Someone else is coming?” Tess asks, looking up from her menu.
Andrew nods. “I have a couple friends in Miami. Guys I know from college. I invited Connor to meet us out, and I texted Luis too. Haven’t heard back from Luis yet.”
We order guacamole and queso to start. I hadn’t noticed my rumbling stomach until we set foot in the restaurant, but now I am keenly aware just how hungry I am. Today was hectic and stressful, between my guilt and my raging hangobver. In the midst of all the chaos, I hadn’t eaten much.
The queso arrives right away. I let Tess take the first scoop before reaching for the bowl. I grab Andrew a few spoonfuls, too. We share a small, round plate, taking turns munching on tortilla chips. As we eat, I lean into him. He slips an arm behind my back and we sit like this, casual and carefree, while Tess talks about the cities she’ll be visiting this month.
