The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(21)

Lucas’s brows wrinkled.

“Whoops, I stood up too fast.” I played it down with a light laugh. “Well, dinner was great, Lucas. Seriously. The best I’ve had in a while. Thanks again for inviting me.”

His mouth twitched, making me hope for one last sunny grin before leaving but it never really happened. Instead, he stood up and walked to the living room area of the studio. Leaving me there, staring at the way his wide and lean back shifted with every step. He plopped himself down on the large couch I knew my best friend had splurged on about a year ago.

He reached for the remote and turned the TV on. He tapped on the smart TV options, displaying the subscription apps. “She really has every single streaming service I can think of.”

“Uhm,” I muttered, wondering if I was getting a goodbye from him. “Yeah. We spend a lot of nights in.” More like all of them. “Or used to, before Aaron and the wedding.”

And it hit me right then, that maybe Lucas wasn’t the only one that had been feeling a little lonely lately. Maybe I was, too.

He turned, looking at me over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

I blinked.

Lucas’s smirk returned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll let you pick.”

I hesitated. “I… I should probably start gathering my things. I have a lot of stuff and I unpacked more than necessary. I also didn’t get around to booking something for the night and I should do that.” And that was evidence of how scattered my thoughts had been today. Because I was “Always Ready Rosie,” and any other day that would have been at the top of my list. Done and ready.

“Or,” Lucas pointed out, “you can relax while we watch something, and then I’ll help you get your stuff.” He looked down at his watch. “It’s only 8:30 p.m. And I don’t give remote rights to just anybody.”

“I guess…” I took one small step forward, feeling my head sway. This is why I don’t usually drink. “I guess relaxing for a bit won’t hurt.” Another step. “I guess… I could stay.”

“Then, what are you waiting for, Rosie?”

Yep. I didn’t just guess. I wanted to stay badly enough to close the rest of the distance, snag the remote out of his grip, and join him on the couch. Or at least the wine did.



* * *



A couple of episodes of my favorite show later, I had not only relaxed but succumbed to the mental exhaustion of the last hours—and days and weeks.

Shifting my lax body on the couch, I turned and let my head fall on the pillow. My drowsy eyes took in Lucas’s profile.

Defined nose, strong jaw, high cheekbones, full lips… and that hair. Those locks that were on the longer side and that still managed to make my stomach dip with surprise and something else. Something… warmer that I didn’t want to think too much about. Not when I could just look at him.

Yeah. This new look suited him. Far more than the buzz cut one he sported on Instagram.

Before I knew what I was doing, I heard myself whisper, “Lucas?”

I saw the corner of his lips turn up before he whispered back, “Rosie?”

I chuckled. “I might still be a little tipsy. And I’m so tired, too. I might doze off if I don’t stand up right now.”

It was his turn to laugh. “You might,” he said, but then, his mouth fell and his neck somehow tensed. He rolled his head toward me and made sure to meet my gaze. “Does that worry you?”

I frowned, a little slow to follow.

His brows bunched up. “It shouldn’t. You know you’re safe with me, right?”

Oh.

Something in my stomach took a deep dive at the seriousness in his tone. “I know,” I told him. And I meant it. I did know I was safe with him.

His expression and shoulders relaxed, causing me a deep sense of satisfaction I didn’t understand.

“You know why I know?” I asked.

He waited for my answer.

“Because I know you noticed I was tipsy, and that’s why you insisted I stayed. You were making sure I was okay before I left.”

Nodding his head, he seemed to think about something. To my surprise, he turned back to the screen, and only when he was facing away, he lowered his voice and said, “Now quiet. I’m trying to watch my show.”

Which brought the stupidest smile to my face. Because it wasn’t his show. It was mine. My supernatural teen show filled with vampires and werewolves and magic rings and enchanted lockets and mystic cures and more than a fair share of over-the-top drama.

“Lucas?” I repeated after a few moments.

The corner of his mouth twitched again. “Yeah, Rosie?”

“Thank you.” For listening. And for tonight. And for making me feel… less alone. A little less burdened, even if only for a little while. “I think I really needed to talk to someone, and I want to make sure you know.”

He looked over at me again, and he must have seen the gravity of my words in my face because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

The wine had probably obliterated the last of my filters, and his expression was so kind, so gentle, that it was impossible not to answer.

“Remember my new dream?” I asked with a big, long sigh, bringing my hands between my cheek and the pillow underneath. “I have a deadline, for my second book, and I’m running out of time.” I lowered my voice to barely a whisper. “This is my chance to prove to myself that I didn’t make a mistake, Lucas. And I might not make it.”