Grace nodded and tried to gather her wits. Half of her brain was still clinging to bedroom fantasies of Rafael, wishing she could forget everything else in the world. She didn’t know how to answer Alma’s call while still sounding like her usual self, but if she didn’t pick up, Alma would only call again, worried about why she’d never checked in. Grace put the phone to her ear, and made her best effort.
“Hi,” she choked out, trying to steady her voice. “What’s up?”
“Where have you been?” Alma’s voice was high-pitched through the phone speaker. “You said you would call me earlier! Is everything okay?”
Grace nodded even though Alma couldn’t see her, guilt washing over her. “I know. I was just so busy with grading papers and planning and everything.”
That was partly true. Before Raf had arrived home, she’d spent hours working on her classes.
“Well, tell me about all of it! Have you met Marco’s mom yet? What’s going on with that?”
Alma seemed prepared to settle in for a long conversation, and Grace didn’t know what to do. How could she say, “actually, I’ll have to let you go so I can keep making out with your brother even though you told me not to?”
She couldn’t.
Instead, she looked toward Rafael as she started to answer Alma’s questions. She tried to convey everything she was feeling with a look—her apology for letting their evening end like this, her longing. Perhaps her uncertainty was written there as well. Rafael kept his distance, nodding solemnly before gesturing toward his bedroom. He was giving her privacy. He was relinquishing his hold on her for the evening. He wasn’t going to touch her anymore, even if she would have killed for a hand pressed into her back or a kiss on the forehead before he left.
It would be better this way, to quit while they were ahead, before things got messier than they already were. Maybe they would laugh about that time they kissed and shake their heads, thinking of how foolish they’d been. It was the right call. Better to forget about all of it. Better to play it safe and protect herself.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Things were worse.So much worse.
Rafael had been relatively sure he could get Grace out of his system if they had a night together, but to leave things hanging like that, right in the middle of it? To be tortured by the taste of her tongue, the way she squeezed her legs around him and stroked her fingers through his hair? He was going to lose it. Instead of getting it out of his system, she’d hijacked the system. She’d infiltrated him with her satisfied little moans and the eageryesshe’d breathed into his ear. It didn’t help that she’d also been so adorable and charming at dinner, chatting with the travel writer about America and leaning into the arm he draped over her chair, looking at him with big eyes and glowing cheeks, as if she was happy to be there beside him. As if it was the most natural thing in the world.
And then she’d danced with him…
He sat at the kitchen counter the next morning slicing a pomegranate, drinking his coffee, and waiting for Grace to emerge from her bedroom. She’d been on the phone with Alma forever, and Rafael hadn’t even tried to approach her after that, but if she joined him in the kitchen soon, they would have time—time to feed the hunger that was expanding in his belly. Time to explore what was happening between them and to kiss and to finish what they started. He didn’t know what would happen after that, and he was barely able to consider it. He was consumed only by what would take place in the minutes after she opened that door. It was as far into the future as he could imagine, because it was all he could think about.
Finally, Grace emerged, fully clothed, which was disappointing but not impossible to overcome. Her hair was in a loose braid over her shoulder, and she was wearing one of those professor ensembles, a creamy blouse tucked into a colorful skirt, exactly the kind you might imagine an art history instructor to wear. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever found it sexy before, but now his head was filled with pornographic images that revolved around that bohemian skirt.
He was still lost in dirty thoughts when he realized Grace was already across the room, standing right on the other side of the counter with a sheepish smile, fiddling with the end of her braid.
“I’ve still never eaten one of those,” she said, nodding toward the pomegranate.
He remembered this was one of his safe areas of conversation, and perhaps he should have taken it as a sign to retreat back to normalcy, to pretend nothing happened. But his body was screaming to move toward her, to caress her, and he gave in easily, dropping the knife and moving around the counter until he was standing before her and ready to take her into his arms again.
She chewed her lip and gazed up at him, and just as he went to put a hand to her face, she said, “I was thinking…”
That could be okay. He loved when she was thinking. He loved watching her concentrate, the little faded birthmark that darkened on her forehead as she tried to solve a problem. He loved when she was lecturing him about Picasso or income equality or Sacromonte. It was thrilling to watch her mind work.
“Si.¿En qué estabas pensando?”His voice was deeper than he’d intended. What was the word?Husky.Gruff.
He stared as she inhaled the air in the space between them. “I—uh—well maybe Alma interrupting was a good thing. We don’t want to make this too weird, right? You’re one of the only people I know in the entire country of Spain, and I like you. I like spending time with you, I mean. I don’t want it to get all wonky.”
“What’swonky?” The things she said sometimes. Who talked like this? Maybe if he could focus on the strange words, he could forget about their meaning.
“You know, like, all out of whack? Messed up?”
He nodded, but he was staring at her lips again. “Right.”
“You agree with me, then?”
No,I want to splay you across this counter and taste every inch of you.Rafael took a breath, trying to build something inside of himself brick by brick, something that wouldn’t topple over with the slightest look from her. “It makes sense. It would be complicated.”
“Exactly.” Grace looked relieved, happy they were on the same page. “It would probably be weird for Alma, and she’s my closest friend.”
Rafael nodded, hoping his disappointment wasn’t visible. It all made perfect sense. It was the reason he hadn’t made a move before last night. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it out loud. He didn’t want her to make the case against something happening between them. “Of course.”
