The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(7)

Dear God. The amount of information one could learn from someone’s socials when one looked long and frequently enough was terrifying.

“Rosie,” he said so sweetly that I felt a ball of shame climb up my throat.

What had I been thinking, stalking someone like that? “Yeah?” I croaked.

“What are you really doing here?”

I debated answering that question genuinely. Not because I didn’t want Lucas to know the truth, but because this encounter had been filled with enough dramatics, and adding my ill-fated day to it was too much.

“There was a little problem in my building.” I swallowed, settling for a half-truth. “Nothing important, but I thought it would be better to leave for the night.”

His brows arched. “And what was this little problem?”

“Plumbing issue.” I shrugged. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. I’ll be back in no time.”

A hum left him. “Is that why you packed all your stuff?” His head bobbed down, pointing at the bags and scattered items between us. “And all your… food, too? Just for a night?”

“I snack.” I looked everywhere but at him. “I’m a big night snacker. I could easily go through all of this in one night.”

“Okay,” he said, but it sounded like he didn’t believe me.

Fair, because I was lying.

I glanced at him, and I never knew what it was about his expression but I heard myself saying, “Okay. It wasn’t a little problem. There’s a crack in my ceiling. Big enough for me to pack everything, hail a cab, and come spend the night here.”

Here, because Dad had moved to Philly and my brother, Olly, wasn’t answering my calls. Here, because on top of that, I’d been lying to them for months—six, exactly—and going to spend the night with either of them would reveal the truth and expose my lies.

“Sorry, this is nothing you should worry about. It’s all good, really.” I looked around, taking in my best friend’s cramped studio. “This is a one-room apartment and there’s only one bed, so I guess… I know we can’t both stay here.” Frankly, I could and would take the couch but putting Lucas in that position wasn’t something he deserved after tonight. And I was embarrassed enough. “I’ll book a hotel for the night.”

I looked at him in time to see his lips twitching. It wasn’t a smile. It was some sort of grimace. “You’re okay, though?” he asked.

I frowned, taken a little aback by the question. “What?”

“The crack on your ceiling,” he said. “It sounds serious. Are you okay?”

“Oh.” I swallowed. “I’m… fine, yes.”

But Lucas didn’t look like he believed me. Again.

“Seriously. I’m a New Yorker. I’m tough as nails.” I let out a laugh I hoped sounded genuine and shuffled some more of the scattered items closer. “Just let me get everything and I’ll call an Uber.”

I inspected my disorganized mess. Then, I started to chuck everything inside the bags as fast as I could.

That was probably why I didn’t notice that Lucas was on the move until he was on his feet and striding away. He stopped when he reached his backpack, picked it up, and flung it over a shoulder.

“What—” I started going up on my two feet. “Where are you going?”

Lucas rearranged the weight at his back. His smile was back in place, lopsided and… yeah, still distracting. “Somewhere else. I’m not staying here.”

“What?” I gaped at him. “Why?”

He took a step in the direction of the door. “Because it’s past midnight and you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I blinked. Then, I noticed my hand shooting to my hair. Did I look—

I let my hand drop. How I looked wasn’t important. One, because there wasn’t anything to do about that now. And two, because… there really wasn’t anything to do about it. “Do you have a place to stay?” I finally asked him. “Any place other than Lina’s?”

“Of course.” He shrugged, his lips not bulging. “This is New York City—the options are endless.”

“No.” I shook my head, taking a step sideways and blocking his way to the door. “I can’t let you do that. I’ll be the one leaving. This is your cousin’s apartment. You even have a key. You… can’t go spend the night at a hotel.”

His smile turned warmer. “That’s sweet, Rosie. But unnecessary.” He walked around me, making me turn around on my heels to keep track of him. “Plus, it’s easier this way. I only have a backpack with me, and you have…” His gaze jumped to my big, messy pile. “You have a lot more than that.”

“But—”

He met my gaze again, and the way his brows bent into a sort of frown was so at odds with his easy grin that I lost my train of thought.

“Listen,” he said very calmly. “I’m a blunt man so I’m just going to say it, yeah?”

I swallowed.

“I’m under the impression that me being here is making you very uncomfortable.” A pause. “I’m actually sure that’s the case. And it’s okay, we’ve just met.”

What? Oh my gosh, and that was why he was leaving? He— “I’m not uncomfortable,” I countered in the most not comfortable way. “It’s not for the reason you think.” He tilted his head and my mouth opened again to give him something else, anything else. But nothing came out. Only a stammered, “It’s— It’s not—”