The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(11)

I crossed the threshold and walked up to him, the warm bag of pastries still dangling from my fingers.

I took him in up close, the bags under his eyes and the impossibly wrinkled clothes. The start of what looked like… drool falling out of the corner of his mouth.

“Lucas,” I whispered.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even hear me.

I cleared my throat and leaned down a little. “Lucas,” I repeated.

Guilt tangled with worry in my stomach, making me want to shake him awake so I could demand answers and apologize a few hundred times. All at once. Because someone didn’t just sleep at a diner unless necessary and I shouldn’t have let him leave so easily last night.

Tentatively, I reached out, my free hand landing softly on his shoulder. “Hey.” I shook him lightly, trying not to focus on how warm and solid he felt through his sweatshirt. “Lucas, wake up.”

And… Still nothing. God, he slept like the dead.

I was left with no other option but…

“WAKE UP!”

His mouth snapped shut and one of his eyes popped open.

A brown eyeball took me in. Then his expression was relaxing back until a sleepy version of his smile took shape before me.

“Rosie,” he half said, half slurred in a husky voice. “This really you or I did I wake up in heaven?”





CHAPTER FOUR


Lucas


I was an idiot. A big sleepy idiot.

That really you or did I wake up in heaven?

Really, Lucas? Por Dios.

I didn’t need to be wide awake to know I’d regret saying that. But the corny, unoriginal, and unnecessary line left my lips before I even knew what was hitting me. I opened my eyes—or eye—and there she was. Rosie. Lina’s best friend. The girl who had charmed the entirety of the Martín family. Heart-shaped face, soft features, plush lips, and bewitching green eyes. Like she was some kind of mirage, my sleep-deprived brain was trying to determine whether she was real. And look at the shit that came out of my mouth when my head wasn’t paying attention.

“Wh— What?” Rosie mumbled when I didn’t follow my spectacular opening line with anything else. Her eyebrows curled. “Are you okay?”

Question of the year.

Willing my other eye open, I shook my head and hoped my expression was casual when I said, “The sun was shining behind you.” I pointed at the window with a hand. “It was framing your face. Like a halo.”

Rosie blinked—twice—before answering with an “Oh. Thanks?”

Muffling a chuckle at her reaction, I stretched my arms above my head. All the muscles in my back complained, stiff from spending more hours than I should have in a sitting position. I shouldn’t have stayed here for so long. I probably needed to stand up, get my legs moving and my joints working but…

Now, Rosie was here. Looking at me with a funny face. Her brows meeting with a small frown. Concerned and a little pissed.

“Are you mad at—” I started.

But at the same time, she said, “Can I ask you—”

I met her gaze, smiling to myself, and told her, “You can ask me anything.”

“I know it’s none of my business,” she said, “but… What are you doing here, Lucas? You look like… Did you—” She cleared her throat, as if she was trying to soften her tone. “Did you spend the night here?”

I didn’t want to lie to her. I’d never been very good at that. So I asked, “What do I look like?”

“Well, you look great—” She let out a strange noise before continuing, “You look fine, but you also look like… like someone who has slept in a diner.”

“Attractive in an effortless and casual way?”

“You were drooling.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m serious,” Rosie pressed.

“Oh, I believe you. And I bet I was a sight to behold.”

“You… kind of were, I guess,” she admitted with a shrug. “If you’re into sleepy, drooling men.” A pause. “Which I’m not.”

I tilted my head to the side, pretending I was considering something. “So what’s your type, then, Rosalyn Graham?”

Her eyes widened a little. “My type is—” she started, but she stopped herself. “You’re deflecting.” A pause in which her lips twisted with a pout. “You said that you would look for a hotel. You should have stayed at Lina’s if you didn’t have anywhere else to go. You should have told me instead of letting me kick you out.”

I frowned. “You didn’t kick me out,” I told her seriously. Honestly. “I left on my own.” Because I’d felt how uncomfortable she’d been in my presence last night. How thrown off she’d been by my arrival. And I wasn’t a man who felt comfortable with invading a girl’s privacy and personal space without so much as a conversation. “These are comfier than they look. Give them a try.” I held out a hand, pointing at the maroon bank across from me. “Have a seat and see for yourself. I’ll get us something to drink.”

I turned around and called for the waiter with a smile. He shot me a nod, signaling that he’d be with us in a minute.

When I faced Rosie again, she hadn’t sat down.