She eased back, as if assessing him, trying to take in the full picture. “I guess we’ll see about that,” she replied.
“I don’t know what that means. Are you keeping a record of my jokes?”
She laughed, and the couple walking nearby glanced in their direction. He wanted to wrap an arm around her, to claim her as if to say, “I made that happen. That laugh belongs to me.”
“I don’t know either.” Grace shrugged. “I’m too tired to know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m sorry someone wore you out so much,” he teased.
Grace pressed her lips together, clearly trying hard to hide her satisfied smile.
The air in the apartment seemed charged when they arrived, and Rafael allowed the flashes of memory to play through his mind—Grace pressed between him and the wall, her legs wrapped around his middle, the way she’d hurried him along, so eager and ready, as if she’d been waiting for it too.
Now that they were back to the apartment in the light of day, however, neither of them seemed sure of what to do next. They no longer had fifteenth century architecture or fat gilded angels to distract them. Rafael wasn’t sure how to behave.
Grace hung her jacket on a hook, and then looked around the room, searching for something. Then she went to the kitchen and started washing a few dishes that were in the sink.
He stood behind the counter, trying to lean against it with an air of nonchalance, but in reality, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. They’d had a beautiful day together, but something felt off. Rafael took a breath and decided to address it. “Um, are you okay?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him with a tight smile. “Of course. What do you mean?”
He stood up straighter, trying to parse out her expression and body language, nervous there was something she wasn’t telling him. “Just making sure. I—um—had a good time today.”
She put the last dish in the drying rack and turned around, her shoulders relaxing. “So did I.”
He was frozen, unsure if he should go toward her, unsure what this thing was between them and how to navigate it. His fingers twitched at his sides. “We haven’t—” he started.
“I was thinking—” she said at the same time.
They both paused. Even when they’d first started living together, they hadn’t been quite like this, so unsure of each other, so hesitant. Rafael started to move slowly around the counter, wanting to be nearer to her without putting too much pressure on the situation. Grace dried her hands on a dish towel, studying him. Surely, she could see how anxious he was, how unlike his usual self.
“We can talk about everything, and I just want to make sure?—"
Grace tossed the towel aside, then pushed herself up so she was sitting on top of the counter. “Maybe we should just kiss.”
Rafael’s body went rigid. “Hmm? I know we live together right now, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like?—”
“Come here,” she ordered, and he obeyed. He wasn’t used to her being so commanding, but he didn’t mind in the least.
She lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, and he closed his eyes, memorizing her touch. He’d craved this all day, but he still felt nervous. He was so aware that they’d still never had a discussion about what all of this meant, and even if he tried to play it cool, he was dying to know what she was thinking. Hecaredwhat this meant, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He never wanted her to stop.
“There’s too much tension,” she explained, and Rafael finally opened his eyes. “I think if we can just get this part out of the way, it won’t be so awkward.”
She bit her lip, and for a brief moment he could see the hesitation in her eyes. He could tell she was pretending to be surer and more confident than she was, telling him what she wanted even if she might have been afraid to say it out loud. He leaned in and pressed his body against hers until her thighs were spread, and she was straddling him from the counter. Rafael let himself feel the warmth of her every curve, the soft breath on his cheek as she exhaled with relief and excitement.
“Please, Raf,” she whispered into his ear. “Kiss me.”
He nuzzled into her neck, then grazed his nose along her jaw, anticipation building as he made his way toward her mouth. When he finally pressed his lips to hers, she let out a satisfied breath, encouraging him further. His hands went under her shirt. His erection strained against his pants already, aching.
She moved to his neck, sucking his skin between her teeth. Her hand slid down to where their bodies were pressed together, and she reached for the buttons of his pants.
“Graciela,” he hissed.
She gasped and moved back toward his lips, still fumbling with his buttons. The top one sprang open. What a terrible pair of pants. No one needed this many buttons along the ridge of their crotch. He couldn’t wait to be free. Button number two came undone while his fingers worked that back of her bra, and all the while they were still kissing—hungry, excited kisses.
Suddenly, a loud banging echoed through the room. Rafael and Grace jerked apart, both searching for the source of the noise before staring at the front door.
“Hello?” a voice said, and the pounding started again.
