The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(51)

“Too sad. Reminds me of (500) Days of Summer.”

He frowned. “Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? That’s a rom-com, isn’t it?”

I gasped, a little outraged. “The first line of the movie is literally a warning that it’s not a love story.”

Lucas chuckled and picked another one. “Elton John?”

I sighed and patted my chest. “Uh, I couldn’t.”

“Another sad soundtrack?”

My brows rose. “Can you think of Elton John without thinking of ‘Your Song’? Of Moulin Rouge?”

Lucas frowned. “Wasn’t that a—”

I turned my head very slowly. Pinned him with a look. “The most beautiful yet heartbreaking movie ever made? Yes, it was.”

He dropped the Elton John record back on its box with a snicker and something in Spanish I didn’t catch.

I decided to ignore that as we continued browsing, something occurring to me. “I’ve told you about my first kiss. I think it’s only fair you tell me about yours.”

One corner of his lips tugged up. “My first kiss wasn’t memorable in any way. Good or bad.”

“What about any other firsts? I feel like I’m owed an embarrassing moment from you.”

He tilted his head. “I might have one. But it’s not nearly as good as yours.”

“I still want to hear about it.”

Lucas thought about it for so long that I thought he wasn’t going to tell me. But then, he said, “It’s the story of the night I didn’t lose my virginity.”

My hand came to a halt just as I was lifting a record off a crate.

My jaw might have dropped to the floor.

I stuttered over my words. Words that were not even leaving my mouth.

Did that mean…? No.

Impossible.

It couldn’t be. There was no way.

Lucas threw his head back and let out a laugh. “Oh, you should see your face right now. I’m tempted to take a picture, actually.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him pulling out his phone, and that snapped me out of it. I patted at his arm. “What face? I have no face whatsoever.”

“Oh, you do.” He shook his head, pushing the phone back in his pocket. “It’s the face you made while you wondered whether I’m still a virgin.”

I looked around, checking for other customers close by, concerned on Lucas’s behalf. But Lucas didn’t seem to care.

And when he leaned forward, and lowered his voice to say, “I’m not, Rosie. I lost it a long time ago. I’m very, very far from being a virgin,” I somehow knew it wasn’t so people wouldn’t overhear.

And boy, was it hot in here? Or was he doing that thing, the one where he turned up the intensity and I felt breathless and warm?

I went with the first thing that crossed my mind and fist-bumped his shoulder. “Good for you!”

Amusement entered his gaze, but he didn’t smile or laugh.

I refocused on my task and moved along the row of crates. “Okay, so what’s the story? I’m intrigued.”

“Lorena Navarro,” Lucas said, following close behind me. “She was my on-and-off girl all through high school. First and only relationship I’ve had.” My ears perked up at that piece of information, pocketing it for later inspection. He continued, “My parents were visiting some family we have in Portugal for the weekend, and Charo, being five years older than me, was doing her own thing. So, I had the house to myself.”

I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous of this Lorena, even if she belonged in Lucas’s past. “You got her a beautiful bouquet? Lit up the whole place with candles? Put on some body oil?”

Lucas did a double take. “Body oil?”

“Some guys are into it.” I shrugged. “Assface Number Three being one. I—”

“Don’t.” Lucas grunted. “I don’t want to hear more about those idiots.” Yep. The memory was putting me off, too. He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I wasn’t exactly refined as a teenager. My version of a romantic night was convincing Abuela to bake me something and getting the girl her favorite gummy bears.”

“Lucky Lorena Navarro,” I muttered under my breath, meaning every word.

Lucas continued, “I rented a movie, laid the cake and the gummies on the coffee table, and sat really, really close to her. By the time the credits were rolling, a few pieces of clothing were on the floor, and I was doing my thing.” He chuckled. “Or what I thought was my thing back when I was seventeen.”

Holding my breath, I waited for a mental image I knew would stick.

Lucas’s grin was big, unashamed. “I was kneeling on the floor, between Lorena’s legs, trying my best to… you know. Make sure she was enjoying herself, feeling good.” He tipped his head down. And I knew exactly where he was pointing. “And the next thing I know I’m being dragged out of the house by the ear. No recollection of how, except for the fact that Mamá and Abuela were somehow there. And they were pissed.”

My hands flew to my mouth, and God, I tried to hold it in, but laughter escaped through my fingers.

“You laugh, but Abuela refused to bake anything ever again for me.” He shook his head. “The following day, she threw an apron at my face, sat down on a chair, and bossed me around the kitchen until I baked my first cake.”