The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(52)

Finally sobering up, I said, “Well, at least some cherry was popped that week.”

Lucas looked lost in thought for a second, then a burst of deep-belly, boisterous laughter left him.

Feeling elated at being the one that had caused that rowdy, happy sound, it didn’t even come out bitter when I added, “And I’m sure Lorena was happy when she got her Lucas cake.”

He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I don’t think I ever baked anything for her.”

“Why not? Did she not take you back after that?”

“She took me back. Eventually,” he said, stepping closer to my side, leaning forward until the side of his face lined with mine. “But I don’t go around putting on an apron for just anybody.”

I turned my head and peered into those two chocolate-brown eyes, warmth spreading across my chest, filling every nook and cranny of my rib cage until there was no spot left.

“You don’t?” I asked, feeling my breath coming out choppy and shallow. But you do, for me, I wanted to add.

Lucas’s answer never came. He just said, “Now, stop distracting me and get back to it, Rosie. We’re two embarrassing stories down and no soundtrack yet.”





CHAPTER TWELVE


Lucas


“Isn’t that another movie soundtrack?” I asked on our way home from the store.

Rosie huffed, staring down at the record in her hands. “Sort of, but this one is different.”

“Different.” Snatching it out of her grip, I inspected it closely. “?‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA, the single.” I turned the album around. “Isn’t this a little too… ‘girls night out’ for a date?”

“Experimental date,” she murmured. “And it was either this or ‘Ice Ice Baby’ by Vanilla Ice, a hip-hop classic.”

The owner had been rushing us out of the store at closing time. And I wasn’t going to lie, I was a little relieved that she hadn’t gone with Vanilla Ice. Nothing against him—or ABBA, for that matter—but hip-hop wasn’t what I’d pictured when I asked her to pick our soundtrack.

She continued, sliding me a skeptical look, “Have you not watched Mamma Mia? This song is Meryl Streep’s revelation moment. It holds the whole movie together. I once read an article about how it’s actually a sad track, and it made some very good points, but… I don’t know… it has always made me happy. It’s more than a song you dance to.”

Her admission was enough to satisfy me. In fact, knowing she had picked a song that meant something to her did a little more than just satisfy me. “So, you’re one of those people, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes, and it was hard not to smile. “What people?”

“One of those Mamma Mia–obsessed people.”

Rosie seemed outraged by my question. “It’s a musical and a romantic masterpiece.” She snatched the record back from me. “What’s not to love about having multiple love stories, all rolled up into the perfect musical? Nothing. Because it’s literally impossible to not love that.”

“Okay, okay.” I held my hands in the air. “It’s not exactly ideal for what’s coming next, but we’ll just have to roll with it.”

She shot me a quick glance, and I could see the question taking shape in her eyes.

“Ask me, Rosie.” I smiled to myself and returned my gaze to the sidewalk, happy that I was starting to get familiar with all her cues. “Always speak your mind around me.”

She lifted the record in the air with both her hands. “What’s coming next and why isn’t this”—she held it in front of her face—“amazing, outstanding, ahead-of-its-time musical masterpiece ideal for it?”

Laughter rolled straight out of me in a loud rumble for the second or third time today.

Rosie lowered the album, revealing a small frown. “What’s so funny?”

Nothing was funny about how much I loved that she made me laugh like this and how clueless she was. “You have no idea,” I told her simply, spotting Lina’s building in the distance. “And you’ll find out what we’re doing soon enough.”

I quickened my step and when I noticed she wasn’t keeping up, I peered back over my shoulder.

Rosie was standing in the walkway, looking in my direction with a cocked brow, all long legs in those shoes I was having a little trouble not paying any attention to, and greener-than-ever eyes in that leather jacket that made them stand out.

“I don’t know how I feel about surprises,” she said, her expression telling a different story. She was curious. Excited. I could tell. “Can’t you tell me now?”

“Nope.” I flashed her a grin and pivoted away. “My date, my rules.”

“Cheesy and bossy,” she muttered. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

Another laugh erupted out of me, this one chased by something else. Something that demanded my attention. But I shook my head and said, “I heard that!”

Back at Lina’s building, I stopped Rosie and headed to Adele’s side of the hall. I knocked on Lina’s neighbor’s door, and before I could catch Rosie’s questioning look, the old lady’s head was peeking out.

“Ah, you’re back.” Adele gave me a crooked smile before moving over to let me into her home. “I was wondering when you’d pick it up. It’s right where you left it.”