CHAPTER SIX
Lucas
My eyes snapped open; a breath stuck in my throat.
One of my hands landed on my chest and I… couldn’t breathe.
I… Joder.
Slowly, I managed to force my fingers to rub circles over my rib cage, attempting to relieve the pressure gripping my lungs.
I’m not in the water, I reminded myself. I am breathing.
And I was sleeping.
Disoriented, I let my gaze roam, taking my surroundings in what had to be the morning light. A colorful painting hung on the wall above me. Two wineglasses rested on top of a kitchen island a few feet away. My shabby backpack lay at the feet of the couch I was lying on.
The couch.
Had I fallen asleep at Abuela’s again? No, this wasn’t her beat two-seater that had seen better times. It wasn’t her living room, either. Every piece of furniture and the décor was trendy and vibrant. It reminded me of—
It all came to me, then.
This wasn’t Spain, or my grandmother’s house. I was in New York. In Lina’s apartment. And I’d spent the night on her couch.
Passing both hands up and down my face, I rubbed my eyes, all the while repeating the mantra I had used innumerable times in the last months.
It was just a dream. I’m okay.
Although that last part might be a lie. I was as okay as I’d ever be. Because this was my new life. Not New York, but this. Waking up covered in cold sweat with muscles that had once been in prime condition now sore and tight and unreliable.
Soft snoring from a few feet to my left caught my attention. With a wince, I threw both my legs off the couch and looked for the source of the sound. It didn’t take me long to zero in on the figure lying in the middle of the master bed. Dark curls splayed on the pillow.
Rosie. Rosalyn Graham.
I wasn’t surprised that she’d fallen asleep last night. In fact, I was shocked it hadn’t happened until the fourth or fifth episode of that vampire show she knew by heart. As much as we both had fought to stay awake—her because she had every intention of leaving, and me, because, damn, that show was laced with crack—we’d dozed off. And it hadn’t been until later, after what I assumed was a couple of hours, that I’d woken up to a cramp traveling down my right leg and found her snoring next to me. So, without giving it much thought, I’d turned off the TV, picked Rosie up as best as I could, and carried her to the bed.
Our conversation from the night before came back to me—we weren’t that different, she and I, both afraid of the future. Only, Rosie had the world at her feet, and in my case, mine had opened up under me. I ripped my gaze from Rosie’s sleeping shape and headed for the bathroom. My skin felt clammy and my body tight, so I closed the door behind me and jumped into the shower.
After an indecently long time under the scalding hot water, I made myself turn off the shower, wrapped a towel around my hips, grabbed my discarded clothes, and walked out of the bathroom.
Feeling a lot more like myself, I shook my head as I stood there, inspecting again the nice albeit small apartment in Brooklyn, New York. What had Lina called it? Her… studio? Loft? I couldn’t remember. But considering it was an open space with no rooms but the bathroom, I guessed it had one of those fancy sounding descriptors to make it sound chicer. Like in those American remodeling shows Abuela loved so much, that got dubbed into Spanish back home.
“Lucas?” Rosie’s voice dragged me back to the present.
Turning, I found her sitting in the middle of the bed with the comforter curled around her legs. She looked like she had just woken up, but her eyes were wide, the green in them impossibly light.
My lips stretched into a smile. “Buenos días.”
Her gaze dipped down, then back up again. “Oh my… Hi, yeah. Hello,” she stuttered, her cheeks turning pink. “G-Good morning.”
I frowned. “You okay?”
Her eyes trailed down my chest again. Slowly at first, then a little frantically. As if she couldn’t decide where to look.
“You showered,” she pointed out. “And now, you’re in a towel.”
Following the direction of her gaze, I looked down, too, checking for wardrobe—or towel—malfunctions, making sure the scars on my knee and thigh weren’t visible. Everything was in order and the towel covered the now mostly healed marks. My eyes returned to her face.
“Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, her eyes diving one more time.
Oh. Nothing was wrong. Rosie was just checking me out. Blatantly. Probably a little unknowingly, too.
Her eyes settled on the tattoo I had on the left side of my torso, covering a big part of my rib cage. She studied it for a long moment.
Incapable of helping myself, I asked in the most serious tone, “Enjoying the view?”
Her eyes jerked to my face. “Sorry, what?”
“Are you enjoying the view?” I repeated, barely holding my laughter.
“Oh… Oh. I wasn’t ogling you. I… happen to love tattoos,” she rushed out. “I’m a huge fan of them, actually. That’s all I was checking. Is it a wave? It’s beautiful. Stunning line work. Did it hurt? I bet it did.” She took a deep breath. “I… yeah, I love tattoos on men. Or people in general.”
Instinctively, my palm went to my side and framed the design. I rubbed my fingers over it, driving her gaze back there.
“I’m glad you approve.” A chuckle finally left me. “For a second there I thought I’d crossed a line walking around like this. But I guess you were just a little distracted.” I paused. “Because of the tattoo.”
“Oh yes.” Rosie nodded her head vigorously. “Totally. You could stroll around completely naked and I wouldn’t even bat an eyelid.”
“Good,” I answered, letting her think I believed her. I didn’t. She’d be affected. If I dropped my towel right this moment, she’d probably blush so hard she’d pass out. And I found myself enjoying that knowledge a little too much. “I’ll make sure to remember that. Nakedness, okay.”
“Awesome,” she croaked. “Really great.”
Hiding my smile, I turned away from her. “Did I wake you? It’s a little early for long showers.”
“You didn’t,” she said as I walked where my backpack was and threw it open. “I’m always up at dawn. I’m not much of a sleeper.”
“That makes the two of us.” I snagged a change of clothes and glanced at her. “Do you need the bathroom before I go change?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest and flexing my biceps the tiniest bit because my ego was a little too pleased with her attention. Her eyes tipped down quickly and widened. “Or I could change right here. With you being okay with naked—”
“No!” she rushed out. “Go ahead, please. I’ll get the coffee started.”
With a satisfied nod, I disappeared into the bathroom again. When I returned Rosie was placing two mugs on the counter. She had changed out of last night’s sweater and into a black sleeveless top. Her hair was wrapped in some kind of colorful tie at the top of her head. Inadvertently, my gaze trailed down her neck, following the line of her throat and shoulders, all the way down her arms and back, taking in the soft curves of her body and hopelessly reaching her backside. It was a good, rounded—
I shook myself.
No. I couldn’t check her out like this. Not when I was about to suggest the plan I’d come up with in the shower.
Rosie turned to face me, an apology shining in her eyes. “I swear, I meant to leave last night. I’m sorry I dozed off.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” I waved a hand in front of me, meaning every word. “You were exhausted, and I was, too. We both fell asleep.”
She seemed to consider something. “You put me to bed, though, didn’t you? You really didn’t need to do that.” She grabbed the coffeepot and placed it on the island. “I could have stayed on the couch.”
“It wasn’t a problem.” I shrugged.
She pulled out a stool and sat down in front of me. “It was very sweet of you to do that.” She averted her eyes and busied herself with the coffeepot. “You know,” she said, filling both mugs, “Lina mentioned how much of a brute you are, and I keep wondering why she ever said that.”
“Oh.” I let out a laugh. “Trust me, she has more than a couple of reasons to say something like that. I was a bit of a nightmare when we were kids. As a teenager, too.” I snickered. “And, well, I still am on occasion.”
“You seem to be on your best behavior now.”
I met her gaze as I dragged my coffee toward me. “I’m actually glad you think that way.”
“You’re glad?” A small frown tugged at her brows. “Why would you be?”
Readying myself, I waited until she took a sip of her coffee, then I said, “Because I think you should stay.”
Rosie lowered her mug very slowly. “Like, now? For breakfast?”
“No, I mean for as long as you want or need to.” I let that sink in, then added, “Stay here, in Lina’s apartment with me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What? I can’t.”
“Why not?” I sipped my coffee.
The conviction in my voice must have worked in my favor because she stuttered over her words. “Because you’re… you’re… Lucas. And I don’t… live here?”
“You can’t stay in your apartment,” I pointed out, holding my mug between my hands. “And it doesn’t seem like you can stay at your dad’s, either. Otherwise, you would be there right now. But correct me if I’m wrong.”
Rosie’s shoulders sunk. “No. You’re not wrong.”
She hadn’t explicitly said so last night, but I’d guessed. And I got it. I understood that. Far more than I was comfortable admitting. “So, stay here, give yourself some time to work things out.”
“But it’s a studio apartment with one bed, and Lina promised you the place, Lucas.”
“We can share it if you’re okay with that.”
Rosie’s ears turned pink.
I tilted my head. “The apartment, not the bed.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Of course.” A pause. “But if I am the one okay with sharing?”
“You said we couldn’t both stay here the night I arrived, so I thought I’d check.”
“I did say that,” she murmured. Then, her voice dropped with something that sounded a lot like regret. “But I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t mind sharing the apartment with you. You’re… surprisingly wonderful. Actually, I shouldn’t even be surprised.”
I frowned, wondering what she meant by that.
Lost in thought, Rosie’s hand went to the top of her head, absentmindedly fixing locks of hair. “My plan was looking for a cheap hotel, or an Airbnb or something. I started checking yesterday on my way back, but it’s just…”
“Expensive,” I finished for her. “Exhausting, too. I know. I searched before Lina offered her place.” I straightened on my stool, making sure to meet her gaze. “Stay here, Rosie.” I offered her for what would be the last time. I wasn’t going to push this on her. “For as long as you want or need to. But just… don’t throw away the money on an overpriced room rushing out of here just because you think you’ll inconvenience me. I’m the one offering.”
Something new crystallized in her gaze. Something I was pretty sure meant she was considering it.
She hesitated, then asked, “Won’t I crowd you?”
“Do I look crowded to you?”
She shook her head.
“We stayed the night and it worked, didn’t it?” I said, and she shrugged. “And you’re forgetting I’m a tourist. The apartment will be empty most of the day anyway. Plenty of quiet for you to concentrate. To work and make your deadline.”
She perked up, but just as quickly she sighed. “But I can’t let you sleep on a couch.”
I checked the piece of furniture, not seeing the problem. “I’ve slept in far worse places than a couch in a trendy apartment in Brooklyn.”
“What places?”
“On Abuela’s thirty-year-old sofa, on an air mattress, a towel on the sand, or the floor of my van whenever the mattress got drenched by the rain, which was often.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I can go on. I’ve lived on the road for long periods of time. So trust me, that plush and fancy couch is a dream.”
Rosie took her time to process that. “On the road because of the competitions?”
A wave of cold and heavy reality washed over me.
“Lina bragged about you every time you qualified for a tournament,” Rosie explained. “She’d show me pictures. Of you.”
That settled like a stone deep in my stomach because neither Lina nor the rest of the Martín family was aware of how much that had changed.
Rosie brought the mug to her lips, and then shocked me by asking, “Is that why your English is so insanely good?”
Thankful for the slight veer in the direction of the conversation, I chuckled. “Yeah. Over the last five years I’ve spent more time around international people, away from home, than in Spain. So, at some point I guess I had no option but to… learn. I picked up lots of common expressions.”
Something seemed to flicker in Rosie’s eyes, spreading out across her face. “I’ll stay,” she said. “Until I find out how long before I can go back to my place. I should hear from my landlord this week.”
I nodded, ignoring the deep sense of relief invading me. “As long as you need.”
“Oh. And I’ll take care of all the groceries while I’m here.” She pointed at me with her finger. “Even after your credit card arrives. It’s the least I can do.”
I opened my mouth to complain but she stopped me, waving her index in front of my face. “Not negotiable.”
“All right.” I accepted with a sigh. “But only if I cook for both of us.”
“Okay.” She let that threatening finger fall. “But I’ll do the dishes.”
“Deal.”
“Oh.” She straightened on her stool. “And you take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Not a chance in hell, but it was adorable that she believed I’d ever accept. “Rosie—”
My ringtone blared through the apartment, interrupting us.
“Might be important,” she said. “You should take it.”
With a nod, I sprinted to the phone. My sister’s name flashed on the screen, notifying me of an incoming video call.
I held my phone in front of me. “Hermanita.”
“Lucas!” she screeched, her flaming red hair bouncing with her enthusiasm. “¿Cómo está mi persona favorita en todo el mundo mundial?”
Her favorite person in the world? My sister never said stuff like that unless…
“What did you do, Charo?” I asked her in Spanish.
She gasped, pretending to be outraged. “Excuse you. I’m a saint, you know that.”
I snorted. And because she really wasn’t one, I asked, “Is Taco okay?”
My sister rolled her eyes just as a bark sounded in the background. “You are an overbearing pup dad. Do you know that? Taco is perfectly fine under my care.”
There was movement on her side, the image blurring for a couple seconds. Then, a familiar snout appeared on the screen.
“¡Hola, chico!” I told my best bud, barely keeping the emotion off my voice. “¿Estás siendo un buen chico?”
Taco tilted his head at the sound of my voice, then a whimper came from the phone.
“I miss you, too, buddy.” That earned me an excited woof. “Is Charo taking good care of you?”
Taco turned and licked my sister’s face, then faced the camera and did the same with her phone.
“¡Taco, no!” Charo’s voice was muffled by my dog’s tongue, presumably on the microphone. After a couple seconds of wrestling, both of them were back in the frame. “Your dog will lick or eat just about anything, is that normal?”
I chuckled. “Yeah. Like daddy, like son. Right, Taco?” He barked in confirmation. “A few months ago, he sneaked into Mamá’s pantry and slaughtered the jamón. The good one. She was furious.” And therefore, wouldn’t dogsit him while I was away for three months. “But he’s a good boy, aren’t you, Taco? You’re just a little hungry all the time.”
Charo shook her head while Taco sat proudly at her side.
“Hey, buddy, I want you to meet someone.” I turned around, looking for Rosie. I found her right where I had left her, sitting on a stool, only now her eyes were wide.
She pointed at herself. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” I walked up to her, placed myself behind, and stretched my arm in front of us. “Who else would I be talking about?”
Lowering myself, I scooted closer to Rosie’s back to make sure Charo and Taco could see us both. With the change of position, I brushed the back of her shoulder with my chest, and it was hard to miss how she stiffened.
“Taco,” I said, wondering if I had crossed some line invading her personal space. “This is Rosie, my new friend. And, Rosie.” I glanced at her profile, taking in her flushed cheeks and neck, noticing the freckles under the pink covering her skin. “This is my best and closest friend, Taco. And my sister, Charo.”
Rosie’s lips parted with a breath just as she turned her head to look at me, and the moment our gazes met I realized that this had nothing to do with Rosie being uncomfortable with me standing so close. She was affected, just like she’d been earlier today. When she was checking me out.
I couldn’t stop my lips from twitching.
She shook her head lightly and returned her attention to my phone, the quick motion leaving me with a taste of a sweet and fruity scent. Like—
A happy woof snagged back my attention.
“Hi, Taco,” Rosie finally said. I could see her smile in the little square on the screen. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
Finally, huh?
Rosie continued, “And, Charo, how are you? It’s good to see you. I had no idea Lucas and you were siblings. Nobody said anything. Not that it matters, of course. Just surprised because you two are so…”
“Different,” Charo offered. “I know, cariño. It’s the hair, isn’t it? You know, everyone thought Lucas was going to be a redhead, too. It was either that, or early balding. Both things run in the family, you see? Everyone just assumed he was cutting his hair so short to hide a receding hairline. And you know what? No one would have blamed him.”
I sighed. “Charo, you know it was for—”
“Competition, yes,” she finished for me. And I felt the pang of pain that accompanied the reminder. “Because it’s easier and more comfortable with the salt water and the sunlight and all that jazz. But now that you’re on vacation,” she added, and it was hard to keep my face neutral. Not to give her any indication that even if my stay in the US wasn’t permanent, my vacation was. “Now you proved them all wrong, didn’t you, ricitos de oro?”
I huffed.
Rosie asked, “Ricitos de oro?” And while her pronunciation was nowhere close to being right, it sounded so… sweet that the heaviness in my gut receded for a second there.
“Goldilocks,” I translated for her. She snorted and I nudged her softly with my shoulder. “I’m not even blond. And my hair is not that long or curly, either. So—”
“Whatever you say, ricitos,” Charo said before turning all her focus to my new and temporary roommate. “Anyway, Rosie. I haven’t heard about you since Lina’s wedding. How are you, cariño?” She paused but before Rosie could even open her mouth, my sister was shooting more questions. “Is Lina around, by the way? Wasn’t she supposed to be leaving for her honeymoon? Did she introduce you guys before that?”
Unaffected by Charo’s antics after a life of dealing with them, I rolled my eyes. “What was it that you wanted?”
She ignored me, her eyes narrowing for only a moment. “I’m just saying because this is an odd time to be hanging out. Isn’t it, like, super early in New York now? What time is it there?”
Rosie seemed to be holding her breath for some reason.
And I was not about to entertain whatever my big sister thought she was doing. “Breakfast time. And you know how seriously I take the most important meal of the day. So if you don’t mind…”
Charo clapped her hand against her chest. “How fun! A breakfast party!”
Overlooking the irony lacing her words, I looked over at Rosie. “I was thinking French toast. What do you think, Rosie?”
Her head jerked in my direction, the tips of our noses almost banging together.
“Oh dammit,” she breathed. “Sorry.”
I held my ground, unbothered. “Why are you sorry?” I asked, getting a more intense whiff of… peaches now that I was so close. She smelled like peaches. “Unless you don’t like French toast. We could also make churros. I put a spin on the original recipe that will have you licking your fingers.”
Her green eyes twinkled with interest.
“Churros it is, then.” I winked.
Rosie mumbled something under her breath.
Something I could have heard if not for my sister’s squeal. “Ay! Ay, Lucas. ¿Sabe Lina que estás—”
“Charo,” I interrupted her. There was no reason to bother Lina because there was nothing to tell Lina, regardless of what Charo was implying. This was just us, sharing her apartment for a few days. And us, having breakfast. “If there’s nothing else—”
She gasped theatrically. “Are you getting rid of me already? We’ve barely chatted!”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Speaking of chatting…” My sister shifted her attention to the woman beside me. “Rosie and I have a lot to catch up on, I’m sure. We haven’t talked since the wedding. And we had such a fun talk that day.” Rosie let out a strange sound that Charo decided to ignore. “Remember? About how surprised I was that you attended alone. And you told me that you had been single for a while and—”
“Oh my God, Lucas,” Rosie interrupted, putting a hand to her ear. “Did you hear that? I think it’s the fire alarm of the building.”
It took me a second to understand what she was doing.
I brought a hand to my ear, too. “Holy shit, I think Rosie’s right. Hold on.” I paused. “Is that a fire truck right outside?”
Charo’s eyes turned to thin slits, her gaze flashing with well-founded suspicion.
“I think you’re right, Lucas. That means we should really go,” Rosie added quickly. “One is never too fast to evacuate. Before the fire spreads.”
“Hold on,” Charo complained. “I can’t hear—”
“Sorry, Charo,” Rosie cut her off again. “We’ll catch up another day, maybe?”
“That is if we survive,” I added.
Rosie glanced at me. I dipped my head, holding her gaze, fully aware that the grin I had been fighting during our charade was now parting and bending my lips upward.
Rosie’s smile was there, too. A much smaller one. And I wondered if she did this often enough. Smile.
Charo scoffed, bringing my attention back to the phone. I managed not to give her an in to speak. “Adiós, hermana! And, Taco, I will miss you, chico. Be a good boy, okay?”
To that he whined, breaking my heart in two.
“Bye, guys!” Rosie said quickly. “It was great meeting you, Taco. And talking to you, too, Charo.”
Then, I finally terminated the call and lowered my phone until it rested on the kitchen island.
“The fire alarm,” I said, releasing a slow breath and not caring to move right away. “A classic,” I added while I simply stood there, with my head roughly at the same height as Rosie’s, and my body only a few short inches behind hers.
Rosie’s chuckle was sweet and soft, her posture not as stiff as when I’d first come so close. “I’m so sorry I lied to her. I feel so bad.”
“I’m glad you did,” I admitted. I was also surprised she had. Gladly. “I love my sister, but I needed some saving—and you were quicker than me.”
“I needed as much saving as you did, Lucas.”
I was going to ask why and if it had to do with my sister’s comment about her attending the wedding on her own, but before I did, Rosie’s back relaxed, coming into contact with my chest.
The sudden warmth of her body against mine took me by surprise, and the change in my breathing was enough to fill my lungs with her scent. Peaches.
Rosie’s breath hitched at the contact, and the motion somehow brought us even closer. On instinct, my arms went around her sides, my hands gripping the edge of the island. Peaches surrounded me, the soft heat coming off her body as my arms caged her, reminding me of how long it had been since I’d let anyone this close. Or close at all. Reminding me of how natural physical contact and touch had always come to me. And how I had isolated myself after what happened.
A warning flashed behind my eyes. Step away, off-limits. You’re in no place or shape for any of this.
So just as quickly as I’d moved forward, I pushed back.
Rosie was safe with me. I hadn’t made that statement lightly. I might be labeled a brute by my cousin for my lack of… refinement or manners, but I wasn’t a caveman. I had every intention of respecting Rosie. Especially now that we were going to share this apartment. Even if only temporarily.
“All right.” I turned around with a clap. I opened a few cabinets, looking for the flour. “I promised you churros. So, you’re getting churros for breakfast, roomie.”