CHAPTER TEN
Rosie
“So you heard all of that, huh?”
I knew he had, and I glanced in embarrassment at the hair-thin space that separated our knees.
“I think the whole neighborhood did; you were having a very loud conversation with the window wide open.”
I covered my face with my hands. “Great.”
I felt what had to be his fingers gently wrap around my right wrist. A breath got stuck in my throat at the unexpected contact. He pulled softly, tingles spreading down my arm, and I… well, I couldn’t do anything but let him retrieve that one hand off my face.
I gave him a one-eyed appraisal.
“I’m going to be honest, Rosie.” He went for my other wrist, and when I resisted a little, the small smile that had been playing on his face widened, dazzling me enough to let him take that other hand down. Ugh, stupid, stupid beautiful smile. “I might have accidentally listened to a fair chunk of it from the street. But when I sprinted upstairs and stood outside the door to listen to the rest, I did so completely intentionally.”
“Okay,” I answered slowly, bringing my hands to my lap. “Thanks for your honesty.”
Because what was I supposed to say? For some reason, I wasn’t even mad about it. I was… many things. But mad wasn’t one of them.
“I like you, Rosie,” Lucas said, and my heart tripped at the words. “I think it’s pretty obvious.” He gave me an unapologetic shrug, the drumming in my chest resuming at an increasing pace. “But you believing that you’re a failure? Just because you have writer’s block? I didn’t like that. Not one bit. And as your friend, I’m going to tell you, just like my cousin did.”
As your friend.
Because he liked me as a friend. Of course, I knew that. That wasn’t new information.
He continued, “And as your friend, I also want to help. My cousin is not here, so I could take over for her. Be your bestie?”
My bestie. That sounded equal parts wonderful and stomach-turning. I sighed. “Okay?”
Lucas inched forward the tiniest bit. “Lina said you’ve sworn off men. And dating apps.” His expression turned serious. “Why?”
I shook my head, feeling the tips of my ears burn. “I don’t think I want to take a walk down Memory Lane: Depressing Dating Edition with you, Lucas,” I muttered.
“I’m trying to understand. I’m at a clear disadvantage here. I’m missing all these pieces of Rosie that Lina has.” He shifted to the very edge of the coffee table, the inside of his knees now touching the outside of mine. I swallowed. “And I’m a man who has dated. Plenty. I don’t scare easily.”
That plenty he’d dropped so casually sparked my curiosity. Fine, it did more than that. It also did a teeny-tiny bit of jealousy. “So… you’re like a dating expert or something?”
He tilted his head, thinking of his answer. “I wouldn’t say an expert, but no woman has ever complained.”
Was he a serial dater, then? His words from a few days ago came back to me. Together with a new flare of jealousy. “I thought you didn’t date anymore.”
Lucas had also said that no one had ever broken his heart, but I kept that remark for myself.
“You have good memory, Rosalyn Graham,” he admitted. “And no, I don’t date. I’m not in the market for that. I can’t be.”
I wanted to dig deeper. Ask him why. “So, you’re a dating expert that doesn’t date.”
“If that’s what you want to hear, then I am.”
No, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. But what did that matter?
Sighing, I pulled both my legs up, folding them under me and severing the light contact of Lucas’s knees. “I don’t even know where to start with my history.”
Lucas dragged one of his feet up, too, resting it on the side of the couch, right beside my thigh and somehow coming closer. “Assface Number Five,” he offered with a serious expression. “You can start telling me about him. Full name? Address? Date of birth? Just for reference.”
“Ha.” I shot him a look. “Ted, no last name, location and date of birth unknown.” I ignored Lucas’s frown and asked, “What else do you want to know? What went wrong?”
He nodded.
“If you are into that kind of boring stuff…” I joked, but he didn’t even smile. “Okay, so Ted and I dated for… a few weeks give or take.” Six, to be exact. “I’d always been very clear about us being exclusive, not seeing other people because I just…” I shook my head. “It’s how I am. He agreed, told me he didn’t want to share me, either. Then, one day, by pure chance, I saw him attached to someone else’s lips. When I confronted him, he pretended he didn’t know me.” And that had stung like a bee. “The complete tool made such a scene that I even doubted myself for a second, thinking I had the wrong guy. But nope, it was Ted. And he’d been dating that girl longer than me.”
Lucas stared at me, remaining oddly quiet.
I filled in the silence. “So, yeah, that was Ted. Assface Number Five.” I leaned back on the couch, making myself more comfortable while I waited for him to say something, anything. He didn’t. “It’s okay. It only took me a couple days to get over him. He wasn’t even the worst.”
Eyebrows up, Lucas said very slowly, “There’s worse than him.”
I realized it hadn’t been a question, but I answered anyway. “Nathan. Your cousin calls him the King of Assfaces.” I shifted, bringing my knees up and hugging them to my chest. And because I seemed to have no brain-to-mouth filter, I told him about him, too. “He was a screenplay writer. Funny, witty, charming. Our first date was probably the best first date I ever had, and that should have been a red flag considering he showed up drunk.”
Lucas flinched, his lips pressing into a tight line.
I continued, “He excused himself saying he’d had the worst day at work and downed a couple beers before our date. Told me that he hadn’t wanted to cancel on me because he liked me so much.” And if anything, Nathan had been convincing. “Anyway, all the dates that followed that one were… just like dating multiple men at the same time. He’d be his charming, perfect self and then a switch would be flipped, and he’d turn into someone completely different. I wouldn’t know if I’d get someone weird, moody, or just… crazy.”
A muscle in Lucas’s jaw jumped. “Did he ever—”
“No,” I stopped him. “It was never like that. He never laid a hand on me. It was more about things he’d say or the way he’d act during a date.” Stuff straight out of comedy sketches. Bizarre. “But he’d always apologize after, tell me it was nerves making him act strange because he was crazy about me.” And silly naïve me believed him every single time. “Anyway.” I laughed to make light of the sucky experience. “To sum it up, it turned out he had been testing stuff on me. Scenes. For the screenplay he’d been working on.”
Lucas sat so still I could barely see his chest moving. I didn’t even think he’d blinked for a minute or two.
I averted my eyes, letting them rest on my toes. “I told you it was depressing stuff, Lucas.”
“This Nathan,” he said, ignoring my last comment. “How long until you left him?”
Wiggling my toes inside my socks, I made sure to keep my eyes there. “Oh. I guess I didn’t… exactly leave him?” I swallowed my embarrassment with as much dignity as I could. Because I should have, I really should have terminated that relationship on date one. “He was the one that broke things off. The reveal was his big plot twist.”
Lucas didn’t speak. Not a word. And I… God, what in the world was I doing? Why was I telling him all of this? We could be friends without me revealing stuff that didn’t exactly reflect well on me.
“And that’s enough of a rundown for today, friend.” I finally met his gaze, finding him with an expression that I decided to ignore. “That’s why I swore off men and dating apps.” That much was true. After that trail of failed pseudo-relationships, I decided to take a break from… real-life love and focus on the fictional kind. “Lina might be right, though. Maybe all I need is to go out and experiment with dating again. And by going out, I guess I mean re-downloading Tinder.”
His forehead furrowed in a strange way.
I felt the need to fill in the silence again. “It’s far from ideal but I can’t afford or think of anything else.” I started fidgeting with my fingers, so I decided to sit on them. “I could prepare a checklist with all the things I need to take home from this… research, like Lina said. An experiment. So, I’ll pick a man and go through the motions. The phases of dating. The natural arc of getting to know someone emotionally, from fun or basic things like getting flowers or experiencing the butterflies of going on a first date, to the more… advanced stuff. Like that first brush of his hand against mine. Or when he leans forward and I know he’s—” I stopped myself, noticing that I was rambling. “Anyways.”
I eyed the man in front of me again, waited until a few more seconds passed.
“Ehm…” I trailed off, wondering if I should maybe nudge him with my finger, check if he was okay. “I think we had one or five Cronuts too many. Can you feel the tips of your fingers tingling? Cold sweats? Maybe I should get you a glass of water.”
I’d shifted by about half an inch when Lucas’s hand shot in my direction. His palm fell on my knee, and I looked down just as he said, “No.”
My brows rose. “No to water?” I gawked at that warm and heavy palm as it heated the skin through my jeans, feeling the tiniest bit breathless. “Would you like a glass of milk?”
“No, Rosie,” he repeated with a determination that made me look up as his fingers squeezed my thigh softly. “I’ll do it.”
Blinking, processing, I mentally recapped, searching for whatever he could possibly be offering to do. “You’ll… get me flowers?” I asked as I felt his hand lift off my leg. I sagged back, a little relieved that now I could think more clearly. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers from any man I dated, but—”
He shook his head and something that wasn’t really a laugh left him. “No, I’ll be your experiment partner.”
My breath caught in my throat. My stupid crush—the one I tried so hard to pretend wasn’t real—started banging against the bars of the cage I had shoved it in.
Silence, I commanded the loud screaming in my head. He has said we are friends. Numerous times.
I tried to summon a smile and failed. “You’ll be my experiment partner?”
He nodded, returning to his easygoing self. “It’s perfect if you think about it.” Perfect? In all honesty, I was having a hard time hearing my own thoughts through the thrumming in my temples. “You won’t have to download Tinder or whatever app those”—a tiny grimace curled his lips—“men came from.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Lucas continued, “It simplifies everything.”
The following two words left my lips in a breath. “What does?”
“Me, you, us doing this,” he answered with a confidence that had me wondering if he really was riding a sugar high. Or maybe I was. Because was Lucas Martín really suggesting we date—experimentally—in hopes I could find my writing muse? “You said you’d pick a man and go through the motions,” he pointed out. “Were you planning to tell the little guy about the experiment? The phases? The natural arc of connecting with someone?”
“You…” I swallowed. “You were listening.”
He smiled and I couldn’t miss how smug he looked in this moment. “You’re not the only one with good memory, Rosalyn Graham.” Something seemed to occur to him. “You never told me your pen name, by the way.”
“Rosalyn Sage,” I answered without thinking.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed as mine grew in size with realization. “Hold on,” he muttered.
Oh crap.
“You are the Rosalyn Sage?” His mouth formed an O, and even though it was the worst possible moment, I couldn’t help but think how much I liked his lips. They were full. Masculine. “You’re the Rosalyn Sage whose book I’ve been hearing my sister yell about nonstop for months? The book that is a permanent fixture on Charo’s coffee table? You—” He stopped himself.
“Yep.” I sighed. “That’s me.”
A grin split his face slowly, his lips stretching in this grand and magnificent way, as if Moses himself was parting the Red Sea.
With all the might I could summon, I ripped my gaze off his face. “Anyway, I hadn’t worked out the details yet, so I didn’t really know if I was going to be outright honest or just, I don’t know, go with the flow and hope for the best.” I frowned at how impractical all of this sounded. How… dishonest. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt if they found out I was using them, though.”
“Enter Lucas,” he quipped.
I looked up, finding his Moses grin staring right back at me. That smile was so… confident. Reassuring. Comforting. Like a safety net, just there, just in case you fell. “Lucas…” I trailed off, questioning my own sanity for actually considering his offer. “You don’t date. You’re not in the market for that. You said so yourself.”
“This is not dating; it’s experimental dating.”
“This is…” This was madness.
It isn’t, a greedy and reckless voice countered in my head. It’s a chance to get closer to him without needing an excuse. Before he leaves for good.
No.
I needed to be reasonable. “You’ll be in New York only for a few weeks,” I pointed out. Six to be exact. “I wouldn’t want you to spend your time doing this instead of whatever you had planned.”
Lucas looked down at his hands for a few seconds, then back at me. “That won’t be an issue, Rosie.”
I tilted my head, watching him closely and catching one of those shadows crossing his expression. “Don’t you want to continue exploring the city?”
“No.” A shake of his head. “I’m going to be honest with you, Rosie,” and the way his voice dropped had me holding my breath so I wouldn’t miss a word. “I’ve been traveling alone for six weeks. By choice, because it was something I thought I needed. But it has… backfired in a way I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t lying when I told you I was feeling lonely.” He shrugged a shoulder as if it was no big deal, as if it didn’t make me want to reach out and hold his hand. “So, you can say I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with, alone, and I’d welcome the company. And I know you’ve noticed, but”—he patted his right thigh—“I’m not exactly in the best shape for all this walking around.”
My gaze shot to his hand as it rested on his leg. It hadn’t exactly been obvious, but I’d noticed he favored his left side. I remembered that first night, too, when he nearly fell over.
What happened to you, Lucas? I wanted to ask.
But I didn’t, because something told me that him opening up and admitting this out loud was already… big enough. Out of the ordinary. And I wanted to treasure it, but above all, I wanted to show him we could do this at his own pace, on his own terms, and I wouldn’t pry him open just because I was curious. “So, you’re saying that I would be doing something for you, too? If we were to be… experiment partners?”
“You would, Rosie.” He met my gaze. “More than you know.”
I liked that. So much that I felt a tingly, fuzzy sensation filling up my chest.
“These experimental dates need to feel real, though. I’m not talking about… kissing or canoodling or holding hands. But about everything else. About being… romanced. Connecting. Sharing things you would in real dates.”
His chuckle was deep. “What’s canoodling?”
“You know, getting… close, physically.” Some of the amusement left his eyes, but I ignored that. “That could mess up things between us. Our friendship.”
Lucas didn’t hesitate when he said, “Then we’ll be honest with each other if that ever happens.”
Honest with each other.
Honest like one of the parties confessing to having harbored a crush on the other?
Strike one for Rosie.
Lucas leaned forward, a whiff of his soapy, clean scent hitting me straight in the gut. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, and I swallowed. Mostly because he was now much, much closer. Right on the edge of the coffee table, his long legs caging me in. “I promise you that I won’t let this interfere with our friendship.” He moved another inch forward. “You’ll tell me all about those dating phases you need to experience, we’ll go on the dates, be the best experiment partners we can be, and at the end of the day, when we come back home, we’ll be Rosie and Lucas. Roommates. Friends. Soon enough, best friends.”
“Best friends?” I croaked.
“Yeah.” He nodded, then repeated, that deep, musical voice of his enunciating the words, “Best friends.”
Clearly dazzled by his scent, his words, the way his brown eyes seemed to twinkle up close, I didn’t say anything.
That was probably why Lucas felt the need to add, “And if you’re still on the fence, I can promise you something.” A pause. “I promise I will not fall in love with you and make things awkward, Rosalyn Sage.”
I swallowed, giving myself time, because I had no reason whatsoever to feel this… heartbroken over that vow.
In fact, I had no reason whatsoever to feel anything but excited. Lucas was offering to help me. And whether I did this with him or not, at the end of the next five weeks, he was leaving. Either way. To a different continent. And two weeks after that, I needed to hand over my manuscript.
So, what did I have to lose?
“All right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
He flashed me one of those smiles I didn’t know what to do with.
“Four dates—experimental dates,” I corrected myself and stuck my hand in front of me to be extra safe. “Five would be… too many if you’re staying here for only five more weeks. And three wouldn’t be enough. So, four.”
“Four dates it is,” he agreed, unfolding his long body and coming to a standing position in front of me. “So, I guess we’re research partners now. Experiment buddies. Field… workers? You’re the mastermind.”
I laughed, and it came out choppy and helpless. Exactly how I felt. “All I do lately is strike bizarre deals with you.”
“Bizarre?” He huffed dramatically as he offered a hand I didn’t take. “You wound me, Rosie. All I have are amazing ideas.”
“We’ll have to draw lines. Terms,” I said more for myself than for him. “Like what I’ve mentioned earlier. No matter what, nothing changes. No awkwardness.” You heard that, crazy silly crush? Don’t make it awkward. “And you don’t go around spending unnecessary money on me. I’m cheap and low maintenance. We always split the bill.”
“I can get on board with some of those rules.” That hand still dangled in the air, fingers I knew were warm and strong wiggling in front of me. “But you’ll have to trust me on the rest.”
Oh, Lucas I trusted fully.
Me? Not so much. “Okay but—”
Lucas snatched me by the wrist and pulled me up. And straight into his chest for what I knew would be a Lucas Martín full-body hug.
“We’ll shake on it with a hug, Graham,” he said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and squeezing me against him, and boy, I wished someone would come up with a way to bottle these up. I’d buy them all. Stack my cabinets with them and save them for a bad day. Or any day. “Do you like capers?”
Caught off guard, I let out a laugh against the fabric of his sweatshirt and asked, “Capers?”
He released me from his arms and took a step backward, once more leaving me to deal with the effects of one of his hug attacks. “All this plotting made me really hungry.”
Before I could tell him how ridiculous that was after he’d just ate half a box of Cronuts, he shot in the direction of the kitchen. He started pulling things out of the fridge. Then went for the pantry. The pan drawer.
He looked at me over his shoulder. “Help me with dinner.”
I walked over to the island and plopped down on a stool. “If by helping, you mean watching?”
He hummed in appreciation. “Oh, I love having an audience.”
“So, what are we cooking?” My gaze fastened to the muscles on his back as he pulled out a chopping board.
“Aubergine lasagna.” He turned, flashing me a grin over his shoulder. “And I want to prep the dough for a rustic ciabatta. For tomorrow.”
Oh Lord. Lucas kneading dough?
He pressed, distracting me from my thoughts: “So what do you say about those capers, then?”
“Love them.”
His eyes lit up. “That’s my girl.”
That’s my girl.
Ah, crap.