The Spanish Love Deception

by Elena Armas

  Those soft brushes of his fingers against mine came to a stop, and he didn’t hesitate when he answered, “Completely? Not yet. But I’m working my fucking hardest on getting there.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  For anyone witnessing my foolish attempts at reaching the bedroom, it would have been pretty obvious that I was about to face-plant on the floor. And they wouldn’t be wrong. It was a wonder I was able to move at all, considering my feet barely lifted off the ground with all the dragging they had been carrying out.

  Ironically, and contrary to the story my body told, I didn’t think I had ever felt more awake than I did as I crossed the threshold of that door.

  My head was working at full speed. Processing everything Aaron had told me about his past. I kept spinning and turning even the tiniest pieces of information until I was completely sure I had them pinned down securely so they wouldn’t flee my memory.

  Never mind that my legs wobbled with every step I took and exhaustion throbbed through my body. Aaron’s confession—because it had felt like he was unveiling something he had kept guarded and locked away from sight—had created a little riot in my head.

  And my chest. Definitely my chest too. The organ that resided there had constricted and squeezed, and I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t supposed to feel that way. Or to act on it. A part of me missed being drunk or tipsy enough not to care, but after all the water Aaron had insisted on me gulping down and the fact that I hadn’t touched a drink after we went back inside the infamous bar, I didn’t have the luxury of that excuse anymore. It was past five in the morning, and the effect of the alcohol had faded to a very low buzz that indicated tomorrow wasn’t going to be much fun.

  I didn’t realize I had been standing in the middle of the bedroom, staring into empty space, until Aaron closed the door behind him. When I turned, my gaze immediately fell on the glass of water in his hand.

  I watched him walk to the nightstand, where I had placed a few of my things, and set the glass there.

  “That for me?” I knew the answer, but the small gesture turned something inside of me to mush. Just like every time he had watched after me tonight. It just … didn’t feel all that small anymore. “If you keep taking care of me this fiercely, it’s going to be really hard to go back to real life.”

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have phrased it that way, but after everything that had happened tonight, the careful grip I tried to maintain around Aaron seemed to be loosening.

  Aaron nodded, his expression turning somewhat more serious. But he didn’t comment on what I had said. Instead, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and then changed his mind and started fumbling with the wristband of his watch.

  Feeling my legs wobble—for all the wrong reasons—I walked to the edge of the bed and sat on top of the simple and silky comforter. Stopping my body from melting into it right away, I exhaled tiredly, releasing some of the tension in my shoulders. But before I could completely relax, my spine stiffened with a realization.

  The bed.

  We would be sharing this very same bed tonight.

  That fact had somehow fled my mind until now. And its return did strange things to my belly. Things that were not strange in a funny way, but in a rather exciting way. Things that heated my skin.

  Well, if I was feeling this way and we hadn’t even gotten into bed yet, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what would happen when I found myself tucked under the same comforter as Aaron. His large body and my much smaller one sharing and crowding the modest space the mattress offered.

  And I … shit.

  In an attempt to distract myself, I occupied my hands, taking the flats off my hurting feet. Once I was done with that, I rubbed my temples, telling myself to chill the heck out because this was okay. We were adults. About to share a bed. So?

  “How bad is it?” Aaron asked from where he stood still at the other end of the bed.

  I chuckled, but it came closer to the sound that someone who was choking would make. “Well”—I cleared my throat—“I feel like I was run over by a stampede of very angry and very heavy antelopes that were in a rush to get somewhere.”

  Aaron appeared in my field of vision, coming to a stop in front of me. “Are you referencing Mufasa’s death?”

  My fingers stopped working, hovering above my temples. “You like The Lion King?”

  “Of course.”

  “Any other Disney movies?” I was tempting my luck here.

  Aaron’s expression remained serious. “All of them.”

  Shit. “Even Frozen? Tangled? The Princess Frog?” I asked, and he nodded.

  “I love animated movies. They take my mind off things.” He dipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Disney, Pixar … I’m a big fan.”

  This was too much. First, he’d opened up about his childhood earlier today, and now, this. I wanted to ask how and why, but there was a more pressing issue. “What’s your favorite?”

  Please don’t say the one that will send my heart into cardiac arrest. Please don’t say it.

  “Up.”

  Fuck. He had said it. My heart struggled there for a moment. And that little spot that had been softening throughout the night got a little bigger.

  “Oh.” The word breathily left my lips. It was all I managed.

  My eyes closed, and my fingers resumed massaging my temples. Although maybe I should have been massaging my chest.

  “That bad, huh?” He seemed to be gauging something when I looked back at him. My sobriety most likely.

  “Don’t worry.” I waved my hand. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk by now. I promise I won’t puke all over you tonight.”

  That didn’t earn me much of an answer, making me cringe over my choice of words.

  Without further comment, Aaron disappeared in the tiny en suite bathroom, leaving me to deal with my awkwardness and thoughts.

  Which mainly centered around Aaron—watching animation movies in the privacy of his home, particularly Up and perhaps finding a kindred spirit in Carl—and the damn bed again.

  I stood up slowly.

  My gaze followed the geometric pattern that crisscrossed the comforter, all the way to where the pillows lay. Our heads will be there, only a few inches apart. Everything I was feeling was slowly replaced by a weird mix of anticipation and something … new.

  I needed to keep my cool. It was just a bed. We were two adults who could sleep next to each other. We were … friends now? No, I didn’t think we were. But we were not just colleagues either. Even forgetting about the fact that he’d soon be my boss, I didn’t think we only qualified as two people who worked together, argued on a regular basis, and struggled to tolerate each other for more than ten minutes. Our deal—this love deception game we were playing—had pushed us out of that meticulously labeled area we had been in. Shoved us right into a completely new and uncharted territory. And now, we were more than whatever we had been. We were …

  We were about to share a bed. That was the only thing I knew for sure.

  That, and the fact that I needed to stop overthinking it. What I needed to be was … unaffected. Yeah. If we were going to share a bed, I needed to stop behaving like it was a big deal. Even if it was. Because it motherfreaking was. Aaron had been showing me just how much with his soft but unwinding touches and these little pieces of himself that were just as provoking.

  What had Rosie told me once?

  “Set your goal free into the universe. Visualize it.”

  That was exactly what I needed to do.

  So, I visualized myself as impassive. Unconcerned. Unimpressed. I was a block of ice in the middle of a blizzard. I’d stand solidly. Immovable and cold and calm.

  Yeah.

  Walking to the closet with that on mind, I pulled out my pajamas, which consisted of shorts and an old T-shirt with Science Rocks in bold yellow letters. A part of me regretted not putting more thought into it now that the room arrangement situation ha
d changed. Another much smaller part thought that Aaron would appreciate the message in the shirt. That maybe he would give me one of those lopsided smirks that—

  No. Those were not thoughts a block of ice would have.

  Aaron walked out of the bathroom in silence, still dressed in his button-down, which now had two new undone buttons—which, I reminded myself, did not affect me—and headed directly to his side of the closet. Returning the silence, I slipped in the bathroom, so I could change and wash up.

  Once done with that and clad in my jammies, I filled my lungs with a deep and hopefully energizing breath and returned to the bedroom.

  I didn’t know what I had expected to find, but I was surely not prepared for the sight of Aaron in only a pair of sleeping pants. They hung low on his hips—so low that I could see the waistband of his underwear—and they were a dark shade of gray that complemented his skin.

  My gaze trailed up, and there it was. That glorious chest that I had witnessed shining under the sun with droplets of sweat that—

  Jesus, no, no, no.

  I needed to stop gawking. Eating him with my eyes as if I had never seen a naked chest before. It couldn’t be healthy. Good for my mental health.

  Turning away from him a little too briskly, I fumbled with my discarded clothes. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him slip on a short-sleeved shirt.

  Good. That was definitely good. Cover those chiseled pecs and abs, stupidly flawless man who loves Up.

  I opened the drawer of the narrow dresser and stared into it. Realizing I didn’t need anything from there, I closed it again. I threw open one of the wardrobe doors and realized the same damn thing. Cursing under my breath at my evident show of stupidity, I sensed Aaron move behind me.

  My hands twisted the clothes I was holding into a ball.

  A soft brush on the back of my arm derailed my inner pep talk, immediately lighting on fire my attempts to convince myself I was cool and unaffected.

  “What’s wrong?” He skimmed those fingers up and down the back of my arm. “You are fidgeting.”

  “Nothing is wrong. I’m okay,” I lied, and I heard my own voice shake. “I’m … cool.”

  I so wasn’t.

  Aaron flickered his fingers one last time across my skin as I remained with my back to him. It felt like he was waiting for something, and when the silence that followed my comment stretched, he sighed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  His voice had sounded all wrong, so I finally turned to face him. He was walking away, so I reached for his arm, wrapping my slender fingers around his wrist. I could feel his pulse against my skin.

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “I told you, you don’t have to. We will sleep on the bed. Both of us.” I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “That’s not what I’m worried about.” And that wasn’t a complete lie. I knew that Aaron would gladly sleep with half his body hanging off that bed if I so much as looked slightly uncomfortable. Hell, he’d sleep on the floor if I let him. “I’m just …” I shook my head, not knowing how to finish that statement. Not daring to.

  It’s not you in bed with me that I’m scared of, I wanted to tell him. It’s me and everything that’s going on inside my head and that stupid organ in the center of my chest—that’s what I’m scared of. It’s me and what I could possibly let myself do, what I’m terrified of. It’s this whole charade we have been executing that is messing with everything I thought I knew.

  It hadn’t even been a day since we had landed in Spain, and I felt like everything between Aaron and me had changed more in twenty hours than it ever had in almost two years.

  How could that be possible?

  “Tell me what’s going on inside your head; you can trust me.” He lifted his free hand and cupped my face in his palm. “Let me show you that you can trust me.”

  Oh God, I wanted to let him do that. Badly.

  But it felt like jumping off a cliff. Bold. Too reckless. It petrified me.

  Meeting his gaze, I realized I could drown in the blue of his eyes if I allowed myself to. Which only fueled my fear. Long gone was that block of ice I had preached about a handful of minutes ago. That simple gesture—his warm hand cupping my cheek—melted me to the ground. Dissolved me into nothing more than water. He had that power over me.

  “I don’t know how.” I leaned my face into his palm. Just for a heartbeat. That was all I allowed myself.

  Then, Aaron’s touch was gone, and the forgotten clothes that I still held under one arm were snagged out of my grip. He placed them somewhere else. The floor, the dresser, the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. Not when a very particular emotion had solidified in his gaze. Determination.

  Deep in my gut, I knew he was going to show me that I could trust him. That perhaps I could jump, and it would be okay. That maybe he wouldn’t let me drown like I felt I would.

  Something settled in the air around us. Something thick and sultry changed the atmosphere in the small room.

  “Close your eyes,” he requested. Although it hadn’t been a question. Not really.

  It didn’t matter because my eyelids fell immediately shut.

  For the first time in my life, I did exactly as Aaron had said without putting up a fight. Not a single bone in my body was willing to do anything else but follow his directions. Letting him show me whatever he was after.

  Taking the weight of answering his question off my hands.

  Eyes closed, I felt him stepping closer, his proximity like a warm blanket I wanted to wrap myself in.

  With each lingering moment that passed, where I waited, every other sense gradually heightened. I could hear my heavy breathing, feel my chest heaving up and down, sense the way my blood was being pumped through my body, reaching my temples with growing intensity. I could feel the warmth radiating off Aaron’s large body in waves that seemed to be in perfect sync with my heartbeat.

  And as his silence crowded the space between us, I kept waiting. In the darkness that had swallowed me, I anticipated his words, his touch, his next move like I had never anticipated anything in my life. Like I was ready to come out of my skin if he didn’t follow up that first command. Hating and relishing in every second that separated me from whatever was going to come next.

  “Once, I told you I was patient.” Aaron’s breath fell on my temple, sending a rush of sensation along the back of my neck. “That I wasn’t scared to work hard for what I wanted.”

  Closer. He was much closer than I’d thought, his proximity warming my skin even though not a part of our bodies touched. I could change that. I only needed to lift my hand, and I could be brushing those lips that were so close to my ear with my fingers. Or I could push him away and end this torture.

  But then he continued, “I might not have been completely honest.”

  I did neither of those two things. My hand didn’t reach out or push him away. Instead, I let the anticipation simmer in my blood. I let him take that choice away from me. And just as if he could read me like an open book, he did exactly that.

  His lips finally brushed the skin right beneath my ear, triggering an outbreak of shivers that ran down my body, not sparing a single inch of flesh. “It’s becoming really hard to make myself wait.” Another pass of his lips over the same patch of skin. “You are very close to driving me out of my mind.”

  A humorless chuckle left his lips then, the soft puff of air caressing and tickling my skin too. I sensed him come a step closer, and my heart raced.

  “But I am a man of my word.”

  My breath hitched in my throat when his lips came into contact with my neck once more, that time remaining there a heartbeat longer.

  Aaron’s fingers trailed up my arm, reaching the other side of my neck and cupping my face. Just how he had done earlier. “Do you want me to step away?” His thumb grazed my jaw slowly.

  My lips parted, and all I managed was a weak shake of my head.

  An approving hum left Aaron. That sound alone did crazy, dang
erous things to my belly.

  “You want my touch then.”

  I did. Oh God, did I ever. But—

  “Good.”

  His fingers trickled down my throat, reaching the neckline of my sleeping T-shirt, liquefying every rational thought. But there was a warning in my head somewhere, something I should be remembering.

  “Aaron,” I whispered.

  The contact of his skin against mine was so gentle, so impossibly delicate, and yet it had the power to make me lose my mind. To ignite something in me. Just how he had proven ever since the fundraiser.

  “Aaron,” I repeated.

  His fingers halted, lifting off my skin right above my collarbone. I felt the loss of his touch immediately.

  “What are we doing?” I asked, sounding desperate to my own ears. I released all the air in my lungs very slowly, grieving the way I had felt a heartbeat ago. But this was important. I had to say something to feel safer. To make sense of this. Otherwise, I’d sink under my own weight. I knew I would. “Is this … still pretending?” I swallowed. I hated my own words, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Is this just for practice?”

  A loud voice in my head yelled at me to shut up. Not to ruin the moment and to let myself take as much as Aaron was willing to give me. But the truth was that I was terrified. Deep in my bones, I was shaking. Beneath all the ways my body kept reacting to every touch and word and craving more and more all the ones to come, it festered fear.

  I felt Aaron’s sigh on my skin, and I was tempted to reach out and latch on to him before he stepped away. I had probably ruined everything.

  But he didn’t.

  “Would that make you feel better? I’ll pretend a little longer, if that’s what you need.”

  “Yes.” The word left my lips in a rush.

  I knew I’d come to regret saying that, probably sooner than later. This was a dangerous game. But in that moment, the only thing that seemed to matter was the safe bubble I had created around us. The lifeline I had begged him to throw me, and I was holding on to for dear life. If I inspected Aaron’s words too closely, I’d open my eyes, my brain would start functioning again, and our mouths would be busy talking.