Chapter 24
CONNOR
The next few days were going to be blisteringly hot in Sevilla, so Madars suggested taking a day trip to the coast. It would still be hot there, but definitely cooler than this far inland.
He had the perfect idea for a place to go, too.
“You’ll love Gibraltar,” he told me as he drove us onto the expressway. “It’s small, but there’s a lot to see.”
“Isn’t it just a big rock?”
He laughed. “I mean, yes. And you can do the whole place in a day. Easily. But it’s fun. And it won’t be so fucking hot.”
“Sold,” I said, because holy shit, I was game for something less hot than this. Shame we didn’t have ice time today—forget skating, I’d take his suggestion and just go lie facedown on the sheet until I stopped melting.
The drive was, unsurprisingly, gorgeous.
For miles on end after we’d left the city, we wound through hills and farmlands, sometimes barely seeing any signs of civilization besides the strip of asphalt we were on.
As we neared Gibraltar, things got more urbanized, and we even encountered a little bit of traffic.
I didn’t have to consult Madars or any signs to know we were getting close to Gibraltar, either. Though in my mind, the famous rock was just a big boulder, it turned out to be huge. Like, there was a town around and on its base, and even the largest buildings were dwarfed by the rock.
“Holy shit,” I said. “I never knew it was that big.”
Madars shot me a smirk.
I rolled my eyes and elbowed him. “Oh my God. Shut up.”
He snickered and elbowed me back as he continued following the expressway.
As we neared Gibraltar, Madars craned his neck a bit, then refocused on the road. “Doesn’t look like there’s any cruise ships right now. Hopefully that means it won’t be crowded.”
I didn’t see any cruise ships, though there was no shortage of other kinds of ships in the water. I gestured at the harbor and the dozen or so cargo ships and tankers. “What about those? I didn’t realize Gibraltar was a port.”
“It isn’t. Not for those.” He gestured toward them. “They’re waiting to get into Algeciras.”
I had no idea what that was, but it must’ve been the city on the other side of the water. And now that I looked closer, yeah, I could see what looked like some industrial ports.
Madars followed the signs toward Gibraltar. A few people were driving to the border, but he parked in the pay lot on the Spain side and we walked in, following a street that led toward the Rock. After a short distance, the road led us started across…
“Wait, is this an active runway?” I asked.
Madars nodded, not even slowing down. “They close the gates when there’s a plane coming in.”
I glanced up and down the runway as we crossed it. There was a jet parked at one end, but the runway was clear otherwise, and people walked across without batting an eye. Apparently I was the only one who thought it was a little weird, so I just shut my mouth and followed Madars.
I also followed his lead when he got us a taxi. I didn’t think that was necessary—the Rock was right there—but I didn’t ask questions.
Turned out the taxi drivers were the only authorized tour guides. Our driver, Roy, gave us a rundown of the Rock’s history as he drove us up on the narrow, winding road. He told us about the monkeys—Barbary Apes, actually—and how the Rock was used during World War II and other historical conflicts.
At one point, Roy stopped and rolled down his window.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when two monkeys—each about the size of a large housecat—seemed to drop out of the sky onto the hood.
Then there was a loud thump on the roof, and a moment later, a monkey’s face appeared hanging upside down over the driver’s open window.
“That’s my good girls,” Roy cooed as he offered them dates and uncooked pasta. “Tell your brothers and sisters to come out, yeah? Treats for all of them.”
“You’re allowed to feed them?” I asked.
He glanced at me and grinned as one of the monkeys swiped a date from his outstretched hand. “They’re fed by the government. We drivers—we know them and we give them little treats.” I took that to mean it wasn’t necessarily allowed, but no one said anything about it.
He explained some more about the history of the monkeys and of the Rock itself.
How it had changed hands multiple times and been a strategic military location for centuries.
He showed us where pulley systems had been used to haul cannons up high on the Rock to fire at ships down below.
It was all interesting as hell; I’d always thought it was just a big rock, but it turned out there was quite a bit of history here.
Might have to pick up a book at a gift shop, I thought as Roy drove us higher. In fact, my dad might like one as a Christmas gift. Two books, then.
One of our first stops was the Pillars of Hercules, and I was amazed by the view.
The Pillars themselves weren’t overly exciting—just a small monument that I thought might be bronze, and a placard explaining the mythology.
From up here, though, we could see the sparkling Mediterranean, the city of Algeciras, the ships waiting to enter the port, and—in the hazy distance—Morocco.
Gesturing across the water, I asked, “You ever been to Morocco?”
Madars nodded. “It’s beautiful. I love it there.” He frowned, though, and slid an arm around my waist. “I’d love to take you there, but it’s not safe. Not for two men like us.”
My neck prickled. “Oh. Right, it’s not legal there, is it? Two men…?”
He shook his head sadly. “And… I mean, honestly, we both know how to act so no one suspects anything. I went there once with a boyfriend, and I don’t think anyone thought twice about us.”
I tamped down on the jealousy that tried to surge upward. Of course he’d had boyfriends before me. I’d had boyfriends before him. I was just an idiot where Madars was concerned. “But you won’t go with a boyfriend again?”
Sighing, he shook his head again. “We were fine and no one even so much as looked at us. People probably wouldn’t have cared one way or the other.
But knowing about the law—it bothered me the whole time.
I was so scared someone would see something.
That we’d give ourselves away somehow. It was hard to relax.
” The arm around my waist tightened and he pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“And I’m pretty sure it would be more obvious with you. ”
I met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I mean I don’t think I’m as subtle with you as I’ve been with other men.” His eyes flicked to my mouth before meeting mine again. “Probably best not to risk it.”
I laughed softly and dipped my chin for a light kiss. “I never knew you had this romantic side. I like it.”
He laughed too as a blush rose in his face. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
Chuckling, I elbowed him. “You always have been.”
He grinned, then kissed my cheek.
“Do you want a photo together?” Roy called out. “With the Pillars?” He gestured at the monument. “And the water?”
“I, uh…” Madars stammered. He looked at me. “Do you?”
I shrugged. “Why not?” I dug my phone out of my pocket. “It can’t be any worse than some of the selfies I’ve taken of us.”
“You said it, not—”
“Shut up.”
I handed the phone to Roy, and he snapped some photos of us with the monument and the Med in the background.
They were good shots, too—definitely better than the selfies.
And my heart did things it probably shouldn’t because, my God, there we were.
Arms around each other’s shoulders. Smiling for the camera.
Together. Anyone who looked at the photo would probably just think we were a couple of friends posing for the camera, but I knew better.
As I pocketed my phone again, I knew there’d be some framed prints from this trip in my office within a week of me getting back to Canada.
We rejoined Roy in the van and continued the tour of the Rock.
We wandered through Saint Michael’s Cave, and in the gift shop, watched a shopkeeper trying in vain to shoo away monkeys who were interested in snacks.
Not long after that, as Roy started driving us up a steep hill, there were some vehicles like ours stopped up ahead, and people were milling around outside.
A monkey darted across the street. A pair chased each other over the roof of one of the vans.
“When we stop at the monkeys,” Roy told us, “leave your sunglasses in the car, or they’ll be gone.”
I glanced at Madars, who pulled off his sunglasses. I did the same.
Roy stopped behind the other vans, and we got out. There was a small enclosure where fruits and vegetables had been scattered around, and at least two dozen monkeys were eating, playing, and wandering between people.
A blonde woman still had on her oversized sunglasses, and both she and I learned very quickly why Roy had advised us to leave them in the car: a small monkey jumped onto her shoulder, snatched the glasses off her face, and disappeared into the bushes.
She squawked in protest, but the sunglasses were history.
Mine and Madars’ were still safely in the van. Roy was getting an extra tip, that was for sure.
“Look.” Madars pointed past me. “There’s a baby.”
I turned, and sure enough, a baby monkey that couldn’t have been more than eight inches tall had perched on the windshield of one of the vans. He was fascinated with one of the wipers, and was inspecting it with his tiny, nimble fingers.
Beside me, Madars grunted and stumbled a step.
When I looked at him—oh.
One of the larger monkeys was partly on his shoulder, partly on his head. Madars was vibrating with laughter but obviously trying to stay as still as possible so as not to jostle the monkey.
Laughing, I snapped some photos.
“Please don’t crap on me,” he murmured. “Please, please don’t crap on me.”
“I could give him some water,” I offered.
Madars flipped me off, and I snorted. A few people around us gasped and turned. Some took photos. Others seemed terrified, as if the monkey was going to attack Madars.
To his credit, Madars just stayed perfectly still apart from giving me the bird. I noticed him glancing at Roy a few times, as if gauging our guide’s reaction. Roy stayed calm and gestured for Madars to do the same, which he did.
The monkey played with Madars’ hair, leaving it messy and spiky in places. Then something caught its attention, and it leaped off his shoulder, sending Madars stumbling a couple of steps.
“Holy shit,” he laughed as he regained his balance. “They’re a lot heavier than they look!”
“I bet.” I turned my phone screen so he could see it. “And I got some great shots!”
He leaned in, and we thumbed through the photos. I was going to have to get some prints of these, too. He was laughing in every one, and the monkey just seemed to be enjoying itself, playing with his hair and looking around.
Madars chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, rearranging it back into order. “Can you send those to me? My mom will love them”
“Without context? Because that would be hilarious.”
With a wicked grin, he said, “Ooh, good idea.”
“He didn’t mess on you, did he?” Roy asked.
Madars’ eyes went wide. “Wait, they really do that?”
Roy laughed. “They’re monkeys. What do you expect?”
Madars and I exchanged glances. I didn’t know about him, but prior to today, I’d had no idea what to expect from a monkey. I still didn’t, other than apparently stealing sunglasses, playing with windshield wipers, and jumping on—as well as shitting on—random people.
“I guess we learn something new every day,” I murmured to Madars.
He just laughed, unaware of what that smile did to me every single time.
And yeah, I did learn something new every day.
In particular, how much harder I could fall for this sweet, gorgeous man.
After our tour, Roy dropped us off at the end of Gibraltar’s high street. We paid him, tipped him generously, and then wandered off in search of lunch. There was some more historical stuff down here, too, but we were hungry, so we kept walking.
As we passed by a small church, Madars said, “I toured that one last time I was here. It used to be a mosque—the last holdout before the Moors were pushed out of Spain.”
I whistled. “That sounds like some dark history.”
“Isn’t most history?”
“Fair point.”
We continued down the street, checking out menus in the windows of various restaurants. A lot of them were British, and some even leaned American. Probably for tourists coming in off the cruise ships, Madars guessed.
We eventually found one that had a wide variety of Spanish dishes as well as Moroccan food.
There, we sat at a table on their patio and split an order of kefta, which was a Moroccan kebab.
For our meals, Madars ordered mussels with chorizo and white wine, and I picked Almejas al Ajillo—clams with garlic.
While we waited for our entrees, we relaxed with some cold water. Wine would have been perfect, but Madars had to drive soon, and we did still have to walk back to the car. No point in letting myself get tipsy when I had to walk across an active runway.
“That whole runway thing still blows my mind,” I said. “Like it just… cuts through the middle of town.”
Madars laughed. “I mean, they didn’t really have many options.”
“Okay, true. I guess they can’t land jetliners on the Rock.”
He snorted. “That might startle the monkeys.”
“Oh God. Can you imagine getting off a plane and having monkeys storm the jetway?”
He quirked his lips. “Probably wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen at an airport.”
“No, probably not. Especially since they let hockey players run wild in them.”
“Hey!” He kicked me lightly under the table. “We behave in airports! Usually. Mostly.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you do.”
Rolling his eyes, he gave me the finger. I just laughed.
We carried on bantering and talking about whatever. The food was perfect. The company was even better. Sitting out here with Madars, enjoying the gorgeous weather and incredible food, I was happier than I’d been in a long time.
Sometimes I still caught myself marveling at how long I’d gone without not only seeing Madars, but thinking about him. After we’d drifted apart, I’d moved on with my life and he’d sort of faded into the past.
Ever since Prague, though, I couldn’t imagine life without him. Even if it was mostly texting and FaceTiming from across an ocean, I wasn’t letting go of him this time.
And for now, I didn’t have to text or FaceTime him. He was right here with me. Across the table in a café in Gibraltar. Walking beside me as we explored Sevilla. Curled against me while we watched a movie. Swimming with me in the pool. Working out with me or skating with me. Lying beside me in bed.
He was here. I was here.
And it just didn’t get any more perfect than this.