The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(87)

I’d wanted to say something back at the café. I’d wanted to mark my territory and say mine, like a Neanderthal. An animal.

Just like I’d behaved at the Halloween party.

But I wasn’t supposed to think about that.

I’d tried my best these past few days, and failed. I’d tried to pretend that those moments in that stall weren’t all I thought of when Rosie bit her lip in thought, or when she came close and I got a whiff of her scent, or when our hands brushed reaching for the salt and caramel popcorn I made for her.

Some days, I found excuses to touch her. I’d tell her she had something in her hair. Or that I’d thought there had been something clinging to her clothes. Sometimes, I reached for her and didn’t come up with an excuse in time so I just smiled at her like a total idiot, and hoped for the best.

And here I was, feeling jealous. Like I had any right to claim ownership over Rosie after a couple of experimental dates and whispering some dirty words in her ear.

How did I dare to call her mine after just that?

She deserved men in tuxedos that took her to fancy places in Manhattan. And I… didn’t even own a tux. I didn’t even have a button-down shirt or a blazer with me, for crying out loud.

It was laughable, really.

No wonder Lina had flipped at the idea of us becoming… whatever, everything, anything.

“Lucas?” Rosie’s voice drew my attention back to her as we exited the subway station closest to our place. Our place, which wasn’t even ours and we wouldn’t be sharing for much longer.

I sighed. “Yeah, Ro?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she said so slowly that it made me glance over at her. “Actually, I haven’t been thinking this for long, but I was wondering, you know, now that I’m writing, and our experiment is working, if it makes sense anymore.”

My fingers tightened around the bag I was carrying. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve helped me so much already, you know? I think I might have everything under control. It has been all slowly coming to me, and I’m no longer lost, poking around in a fog. And we said we wouldn’t allow this arrangement to put any awkwardness between us but I…” She blew air through her mouth. “I… I don’t know, Lucas, it felt a little awkward at the coffee shop so I just—”

She stopped herself. She was looking everywhere but at me, and I didn’t like that. Not one bit. Because I wanted her eyes on me, especially if she was talking about something important.

I came to a stop on the sidewalk and waited until she met my gaze. “Do you want to date him? Aiden?” I asked, keeping my voice as light as I possibly could. Because if that was the reason, I wanted to hear it. I needed to hear it. “You want to go on real dates?”

I wanted to take back the word real, because whatever had happened between us, on those two experimental dates or even at the Masquerade Ball, hadn’t been faked, forced, or not real in any way. But I’d used it, because if she wanted real dates with other men, who was I to stop her?

But Rosie didn’t seem to mind my use of the word and I’d be lying if I said that that didn’t sting. “Maybe I want the real thing. Not with Aiden, but maybe I want the real dates.”

Of course, she did.

And that felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

Could I even give her that? No, I couldn’t when I was leaving. I wanted to give her things I didn’t have.

Something must have changed in my expression because her brows furrowed in confusion. “The three experimental dates we’ve gone on have been more than I could have asked for.”

“Two dates.” I carefully placed a hand at the small of her back and resumed walking. “We’ve only gone on two, Ro.”

“I thought we were counting the masquerade as one.”

I retracted my arm, readjusting the strap of her laptop bag on my shoulder just so I wouldn’t do something stupid. Or reckless. “Why? I didn’t plan anything. In fact, I didn’t do a single thing.”

Phase three. Infatuation. Intimacy. Seduction. I remembered those three points perfectly. I’d been thinking about them a lot.

“You did, Lucas,” she said, returning her gaze to the sidewalk ahead of us. “In phase three, the physical connection takes the wheel. The infatuation becomes tangible, a breathing living thing between the two… parties. It’s about breaking that barrier that holds you back and letting go. See if that person pulls you in enough to want to move things forward. Let them progress into physical intimacy.”

“I see.” I didn’t just see; I felt it in my pulse. I felt it drum in my body.

Rosie chuckled and it was soft and self-conscious. “I don’t think I’d ever been properly seduced,” she told me, as if that wasn’t supposed to make me want to howl at the moon like a lunatic. What the hell was wrong with me? She continued, “Like, sure, all men I’ve dated have said or done things to get in my panties. Successfully, I may add.” And that didn’t do anything to appease the beast, if my knuckles turning white around the bag were anything to go by. “But never, like, you know. What happened.”

What happened.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had come to a stop again. “Rosie—”

“I don’t want to make this weird,” she said, stopping a step ahead of me. “Because I’m sure it was like a lapse in judgment or whatever.” Her cheeks turned pink. “I mean, I literally had to force you to look at me. But it still counts. Research is research.”