The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(29)

Lucas frowned, processing my words, his eyes scanning my face.

“Mateo?” Adele said, disbelief and joy loud in that one single word.

I blinked, my gaze jumping between the woman, who had her hands clasped under her chin, and Lucas, whose expression remained as calm as a millpond.

Mateo?

“Adele, this is Lucas,” I told her as sweetly as I managed. “The Lucas I was telling you about earlier? My Lucas, remem—” I stopped myself, paling the moment I realized what had come out of my mouth. I made sure to look only at the woman. “He’s Catalina’s cousin.”

Adele glanced at me with a small frown. “But this can’t be your Lucas. He’s my Mateo.”

I smiled tightly, not knowing how the heck we had gotten here or how to veer the conversation far, far away.

After what seemed an eternity, Lucas said, “How about I get that thing out of the way, and get you back inside, Adele? I’m all about feminism, but I’m willing to take this one for the team.”

I finally dared to glance at him, just in time to meet his gaze briefly before he started in our direction.

He set a palm on Adele’s back and ushered her out of the way, then he returned to my side. Slowly, he leaned down and said only so I could hear, “Your Lucas to the rescue.”

Your Lucas.

A strange sound left my mouth.

Thankfully, Lucas got to work and a few minutes later, the loveseat was unstuck and back inside Adele’s apartment and my temporary roommate was guiding the frail woman back inside.

“Are you hungry?” Adele asked as they stepped inside the apartment, leaving me behind. “I think I have lasagna leftovers, and you look a little skinny.”

“You think I’m skinny?” Lucas replied so casually and naturally it seemed they’d known each other for a long time. “I’d say I’m in pretty good shape.” He lifted his free arm and flexed his biceps. “Have you not seen how big these are?”

Adele giggled and smacked his arm down. “Oh, you rascal.”

And I stood there, so enraptured by the odd and bittersweet scene—and enthralled by the way Lucas radiated this soothing and commanding kind of energy—that it caught me off guard when he looked back over his shoulder and met my eyes.

You coming? he mouthed.

And I’d never know what he saw in my expression as our gazes remained locked for the next seconds, but when I didn’t move, he said more gravely, in this firm yet sweet tone, “Come, Rosie.” And my two feet pushed forward and I followed them in.

After preparing some tea and chatting for a while, Adele assured us her daughter was coming over later in the evening. And when she eventually drifted off, we returned to Lina’s place. To our place. For now. A part of me seemed to note.

Just as the front door closed behind us, we let our backs fall against the wooden surface.

“That was… intense,” I whispered. “And a little heartbreaking.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice lacking his usual liveliness. I glanced at him over my shoulder, finding him with his eyes closed. He continued, “But that’s life for you. Intense and heartbreaking.”

The shadow I had seen cross his face a few times returned.

Before I knew what I was doing, the words were leaving my mouth, “Was your heart broken, Lucas? Is that why you’re here, away from Spain?”

Lucas’s eyes opened and fell heavily on me.

“Yes and no,” he admitted in a low voice. “Only no one broke my heart, Rosie. I don’t think anyone ever got the chance to.”

Gazes locked, I pondered what his answer meant. Had he never been in love, then? Was he or was he not escaping a broken heart? And if he was, and no one was responsible for it, then what had caused it?

Lucas broke the silence. “Abuelo had Alzheimer’s. He used to confuse me with his little brother. At some point I stopped correcting him and pretended there was nothing wrong with his assumption. So even if I didn’t know if Adele could have been experiencing the same, I…”

“Did that with her, too,” I finished for him. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Going through something like that can’t have been easy.” And I wasn’t sure if it was because of this or his earlier admission, but his words left a spot so tender, so exposed in my chest that I found myself reaching out and setting my hand on his arm. “I think you made Adele happy today. Even if just for a little while.”

Lucas looked down at where my fingers rested against his forearm, and I focused on how warm he felt beneath the sleeve of his sweater. He seemed to consider something, and then, without any kind of warning, he moved and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

“I really fucking hope this is okay,” he murmured somewhere close to my temple, warmth surrounding me as an odd sense of comfort mixed with the shock. “Is it, Graham?”

“I… huh, yes?” I mumbled. Then closed my eyes. “Yes. It’s more than okay.”

“Good.” And one hard and fast squeeze later, I was released and left there, watching Lucas turn and stalk in the direction of the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

He opened a drawer and pulled a pan out. “I’m thinking frittata, roomie. Then, I have a couple of ideas for a white chocolate cheesecake I’ve been dying to try.”