Page 38

"Looks like your shadow is hungry tonight too," Nadia says when she and Claudia come back out to the club.

Claudia doesn't answer, and she didn't need Nadia to point it out either, because the moment they came through the door, the first thing she did was scan the room for her. And when she saw her pressed against that girl's mouth, a bitter taste settled in her that has only added to the bad feeling she's been carrying all night. She couldn't even let herself go with the sex, because while Nadia was fucking her, she couldn't empty her mind—she couldn't stop wondering whether the girl Laia was talking to was just something to pass the time or could be something more. And it looks like it's the second option, because when Laia sees her come back out, knowing full well what she's been doing, she lets spite take the wheel.

"Like I said, I live close—want to get out of here?" Marta offers.

"Yeah, give me a second."

Laia slides off the barstool and walks toward Claudia, who holds her gaze as if there's no one else in the room, because in that moment, for Claudia, there isn't. She only has eyes for her, and thoughts for bracing herself for what she senses is coming.

"I'm heading out. I'll see you at work tomorrow—please don't be late."

Laia turns away without waiting for an answer, and Claudia watches her leave the club with the other girl's hand on her waist, as if she had any right to put it there.

"What's wrong?" Nadia asks, touching her arm to get her attention.

"Nothing. I'm just tired. I think I'm going to head home."

She kisses Nadia's cheek, grabs her blazer, and walks out of the club feeling a strange cold that has nothing to do with the change in temperature. This is something else—something she still can't quite name, even though the signs are right there, glowing brighter with every passing moment.

Chapter 15

Claudia has been sitting inside her car in the factory parking lot for over fifteen minutes. She woke up before her alarm went off, which would have been a surprise on any other day, but today it makes sense because she spent half the night awake, and by five o'clock she was too alert to keep trying to sleep. When she got back to her apartment, she filled the bathtub and sat there until the water went cold and her skin started to prickle.

Doing that sometimes manages to blank her mind out. She usually closes her eyes, rests her head on the edge, and lets the heat of the water loosen her muscles, but last night that didn't happen—she lay staring at the ceiling, unable to shut her eyes, asking herself over and over what Laia might be doing. It seemed logical to assume, because nobody leaves a club with a stranger just to talk, but that didn't seem like Laia's style, and it was the first time she'd left before Claudia, walking out as though nothing mattered to her at all.

But what Claudia can't stop turning over is the way Laia looked at her when she came close, because there wasn't a trace in her eyes of the warmth they usually carry—she looked angry, irritated, or maybe something worse: tired of putting up with her.

She got into bed just before two in the morning and her mind still wouldn't quiet down, so she slept in fits and starts, and by five, worn out from all that tossing and turning, she gets up, takes another shower, makes herself a coffee, and, even though she doesn't like walking through Barcelona alone at that hour, she decides to go out for a walk and see if a little movement makes her feel any better.

When it's almost eight, she watches Laia's car pull in, and Claudia gets out of hers as if she's just arrived, walking toward her while she tries to sound natural.

"Good morning," she says when Laia steps out of her car.

"Good morning."

Laia shuts the door and turns to head to the factory entrance, but Claudia has stayed put where she was, and that makes her stop.

"How was last night?" Claudia raises an eyebrow in an effort to look casual and sound like her usual self, but everything comes out forced because there's something inside her, rising and falling in her chest in a constant wave—a kind of anxiety that won't let her settle.

Laia glances to either side, uncomfortable, gripping the strap of her bag with both hands as if Claudia is about to yank it from her and run.

"Fine," she answers without looking at her, not understanding what's behind the interest.

Claudia hooks up with women all the time and they never talk about it the next day—so why is it different when Laia does it?

"Just fine?" Elvira's niece presses.

"Yeah, I don't know what you want me to say."

Claudia's jaw tightens and she pushes air out through her nose, forcing a small smile.

"Are you embarrassed to talk about this stuff? It's the most natural thing in the world—what was her name?"

"Marta." Laia leans against her car when she figures out that Claudia isn't going to let this go. "Why does it matter so much to you? You were with that woman."

"Yeah, with Nadia," she clarifies, saying her name. "I'm just curious."

"Let's go in or we'll be late," Laia says.