The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(57)

She smiled at me over the bag. “Your dad is very proud of you, honey. He told me all about that well-deserved promotion.”

I felt my blood drain from my face, but I gave her a nod.

Nora’s gaze slid to my dad. “She has those beautiful green eyes of yours, Joseph.” She chuckled. “I sure hope she’s not as stubborn as you are, though. Because those are some genes you don’t want to pass on.”

“Joe,” Dad corrected her. And without turning to me, he added, “Did you hear that, Rosie? Beautiful eyes.”

I searched Dad’s face, then Nora’s. They were both grinning. Dad at her, and Nora at the bag that contained that delicious red velvet cake he had been thinking about all day.

My phone buzzed in my hands, snatching my attention from the flirtation-fest happening right in front of me.


Lucas: How’s the home project? Your dad’s hip okay?



I bit my lip just so I wouldn’t smile at the screen. At his name. At his words.

And just like that, memories of our first and only experimental date toppled down my mind, making me feel all kinds of breathless.

It had been goofy, fun, sweet, and cheesy in the best possible way. As much as I teased Lucas, the truth was that I loved cheesy, and he had surpassed any expectations I’d had for our experiment. Every single thing about it—about him—had been a romance writer’s dream come true. A woman’s dream come true. Even thinking of that rodent running around the apartment didn’t make my skin crawl anymore. Instead, I thought of my legs around Lucas’s hips as he carried me to safety. Of his solid and warm body under mine. Of the intensity burning in his brown eyes as he’d looked at me when we danced.

It all had been in the name of research. Experimental flirting. Experimental dancing. Experimental… wowing.

But this wasn’t. The care he took in checking up on me and Dad—as Lucas, my roommate and friend, not Lucas from Date Night—wasn’t experimental. It was real. And that… was hard to ignore.


Rosie: He’s okay. He’s busy flirting with his neighbor. In front of me.

Lucas: Go Mr. Graham!

Rosie: Don’t encourage this kind of behavior.

Lucas: Why not? Flirting is healthy for the soul.

Rosie: He’s my dad And they are watching each other with googly eyes right here.

Lucas: He still deserves to eat, you know.

Rosie: EW LUCAS. NO.

Lucas: Fine but you’re a romance writer. You should encourage this. Maybe even give him tips.

Lucas: How far do you think the flirting has gone? Do you think they’d had a little pow-pow fun?



Pow-pow what? Jesus Christ.


Rosie: okay gossip girl, let me stop you right here.

Rosie: you’re supposed to side with me.

Lucas: I’ll always be on your side.



Those words sat there alone for several seconds as I stared at them, not really knowing what was about them that made them stand out.

The three typing dots appeared again.


Lucas: I’ll let you go, just wanted to check on him. And you.

Lucas: #TeamRosie

Lucas: xoxo, you know you love me.

Lucas: and before you ask… I have a big sister, Ro. I know Gossip Girl.



Ah dammit. God freaking dammit.

Why did he have to go around being so… good and funny and… and… so Lucas?


Rosie: that’s sweet of you, Lucas. You really didn’t have to check on us.



A few seconds passed, and just when I thought I wouldn’t receive any more messages from him, a new bubble appeared on my screen.


Lucas: One last thing, will you be eating at your Dad’s or should I leave dinner in the oven for you?



That expanding sensation in my chest I so often experienced when Lucas was around came back with a vengeance. Heightened, intensified. As if it was there to stay. He was so unbelievably sweet, and he probably had no idea.

This truly was a curse and a blessing. Because—

“Rosie?”

Looking up from my phone, I caught my dad’s interested gaze. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“Who’s that you’re texting?”

His question brought me back in time, when I was sixteen and he’d asked me if there was any boy I liked. Remember to pick the boy that will plant a garden for you instead of just getting you the flowers, Bean.

“Oh,” I said as casually as I could. “Just a friend.”

“There was a lot of grinning going on there for ‘just a friend.’?”

“I was laughing at something he said.” I locked my phone and slipped it in my bag. “He’s funny like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Dad’s smile was knowing. “What was the joke?”

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Nora slip out of the room with a nod in our direction. I used her disappearance to my advantage. “One not as funny as seeing you with Nora.” I pointed a finger at him. “Someone’s been busy.”

He laughed, like outright deep belly laugh, and I loved hearing that sound. I loved it less when it died off too quickly the moment Dad checked his watch.

“I guess your brother’s not coming then,” he admitted with a sigh.