The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(75)

But not today. Not tonight. Because we were going to a party. The Masquerade Ball. And if the butterflies in my stomach were any indication, I was as excited about it as I was anxious.

Good nerves, bad nerves, I wasn’t sure.

I didn’t know what to expect, really. Because this felt a lot like a double date, only it wasn’t one. When I’d told Lucas about the Masquerade Ball, he’d just said he was in and we’d started talking about costume ideas. Couple-costume ideas, although we were going as friends. Just friends, not even experiment partners, considering Aaron and Lina would be there.

Which reminded me that they would be picking us up soon and Lucas wasn’t home yet. Two hours ago, when I’d pulled my costume out of the closet, he’d said he had to pick up a last-minute thing and vanished.

The bell rang again, getting me out of my head.

I raced across the apartment, the swoosh of the fabric of the Victorian-inspired ball gown I was wearing chasing every one of my steps.

In a rush, I threw the door open and— Whoa.

My eyes widened with a mix of emotions. Surprise, awe, and… lust.

Yes, most definitely, lust.

“Lucas.” My gaze leaped up and down, my head scrambling for something to say as a powerful rush of heat climbed up my body. I somehow managed to croak out, “Wow. You look so, so, so, so good.”

He stood there in his Victorian velvety tailcoat jacket and burgundy vest, unbothered by my ogling and the so, so, so, so good I had just blurted. His hair was combed back and his sun-kissed face on full display, making his handsome features demand more attention than ever.

And my attention was definitely happy to comply.

He snickered. “You like?”

“Yes.” So, so, so, so much, I thought. Because one single so would have not sufficed. “You look one hundred percent amazing. No, one hundred and twenty percent because you… you’ve broken the scale.”

He laughed again, and I had to clamp my mouth down to keep myself from exposing myself anymore.

Granted, I was exhausted from working on my manuscript all day. Which was good, amazing, really. Today, inspiration had hit like it hadn’t in… heck, I didn’t even know. Probably ever. I couldn’t remember writing ever feeling this way, as I imagined riding a wave would feel. Wild, freeing, unpredictable. Just like I felt with Lucas.

“Your dress,” Lucas said, all humor gone from his voice. “It’s beautiful. It matches the color of your eyes.”

He let his gaze roam up and down my body, just like mine had done a moment ago. Intentionally checking me out. And I… liked it. Loved it. Seeing that profound appreciation on his face was making me feel all kinds of things. Fluttering things. Warm and fizzy things. Things I should keep under check for my own good.

Collecting myself, I swooshed from left to right and repeated his words to him. “You like?”

His lips parted with a wide, wicked grin, revealing the pointy ends of prosthetic fangs, and it was hard not to smile back.

“Like it?” He shook his head. “You look incredible, Rosie.” His smile dimmed, that intensity of his that I didn’t know what to do with showing on his face. “Estás preciosa.”

Preciosa.

I didn’t need to know what that meant exactly, not when he was looking at me the way he did, making that flutter intensify. Multiply. So much that I’d never know how I stood there and took the compliment with a straight face when all I wanted was to swoon straight into his arms.

“You clean up pretty well as a Victorian vampire,” I managed to say after a few seconds. “You’re giving the protagonist of our show a run for his money.” And I’d take you over him any day of the week, I wanted to add.

But Lucas didn’t smile like before, he only hummed in response, all that intensity still there.

In an attempt to appear unaffected by that and by the way those chocolate eyes were staring right into mine, I averted my gaze to his chest. I spotted a button that had come undone in the visible section of his vest and reached out for it. I let my fingers make a work of it, the warmth of his chest seeping through the layers of fabric, making me clumsy and my breathing choppy. “Where did you find these clothes?” I asked in a quieter voice than I’d intended. “They look exactly like the ones from the show.”

Because we were going as our favorite vampire couple, but the version of them from one of the flashback episodes in Victorian times.

Lucas’s head tipped down, watching my hands as they remained latched onto that button. He stepped forward, bringing us closer. “I had a little help,” he answered, and I could feel his breath on my skin. “And by little, I mean my feisty 5’4” cousin.”

My fingers were fidgeting with the button that was now done, searching for an excuse to remain there, on his chest. “She’s not that feisty. Or short,” my loyalty pushed me to say. “She’s cute.”

“I think you’re cute,” Lucas said, making my fingers freeze. He expelled one slow pull of air. “No. You’re not cute. You’re beautiful.”

I swallowed, wanting to beg him to take back the words as much as I needed him to repeat them again so I’d never forget them.

But what I said was, “You’re ready now.” And I brushed my fingertips over the fabric of his vest for what I’d promised myself would be one last touch.