Chapter 11 #2
She was sobbing in her dream, and it must have carried over into real life, too, because before she knew it, she was awake in her bed with tears streaming down her face and a lump in her throat.
She gasped for breath, waiting to remember where she was, when she was, trying to shake the images of Gram she hated to remember.
There was a knock at her door, and she wondered if that’s what had broken her out of the nightmare in the first place. “Grace?” She heard Rafael’s voice, soft and worried, on the other side of it. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, but she was too dazed to be embarrassed.
“Yeah?” she croaked. “Sorry, you can come in.”
Rafael eased open the door and peeked into her room, searching her face to try to puzzle out what was happening.
He must have heard her crying. She felt like a child who’d been bawling in her sleep, and even though she suddenly felt very awake, she couldn’t seem to stop.
Her shoulders were shaking, and tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
Rafael took all of it in and moved toward her, hesitating for only a moment before sitting on the bed and wrapping her in his arms. “Are you okay?” he whispered into her hair. “What’s going on?”
Grace let herself sink into him, taking another breath to gain her composure only to find herself inhaling the scent of his skin, the expensive sandalwood soap and a hint of lemon.
It took a moment before Grace managed to find any words and a moment more before she could actually get them out.
“Bad dream.” She coughed. “I’m okay. Sorry for waking you up. ”
“Stop apologizing, Graciela,” he said. “What did you dream?”
“My grandma. It was the last time I saw her. The last day…” The tears picked up again, and Grace couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.
Rafael held her and stroked her hair. She cried into him, and even though she expected to feel mortified and burdensome, she mostly just felt a sense of calm washing over her.
She was safe, and some part of that was because of him.
Because he was holding her, because he didn’t let go.
Because, somehow, they’d been drawn together in this little city, and he wasn’t the person she’d expected—at least not anymore.
They stayed like that for a long time, until her breath evened out and the tears slowed. “Can I get you something?” Rafael asked. “A glass of water?”
The truth was she didn’t want him to let go. If he could have just stayed there all night, holding her…
“No,” she rasped, remaining still in the hopes that he might not move away. “I’m better now. I would thank you, but I know how you feel about that.”
“Good.” Rafael loosened his grip on her, and she tried very hard not to cling to him too tightly. “Don’t thank me. Just think of me as a hand in your dark hole.”
“Rafael,” she scolded.
“What?”
“I know it was on purpose that time.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
She pressed her forehead against his chest again to hide her smile.
Grace was shocked to find herself smiling after she’d been falling apart at the seams just minutes before.
She was even more surprised that the person making her smile was him.
Mr. Serious. The man who never laughed. Except, apparently, that wasn’t exactly true.
“You’re not allowed to use the word hole anymore,” she whispered into his shirt. “It’s forbidden.”
“Come on, Graciela,” he teased. “You like it.”
Grace was suddenly extremely conscious of her breasts pressing into his torso every time she took a breath, his fingers against her neck, and his nose in her hair.
She’d wanted him to hold onto her for comfort, but she was starting to understand that there was more to it than that.
His touch wasn’t just comforting, it was…
alluring. She eased back and looked up at him and knew instantly it was a mistake, because he was so beautiful, and his eyes were so dark as they locked on hers with a force she’d never seen in a gaze.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” he asked. It was barely a whisper, but she could feel the breath of each word brushing against her skin.
She nodded slowly, still staring at him.
Her heart sped up again, and she parted her lips.
His mouth was so perfect, so close, inches away from her own.
She tilted her head ever-so-slightly and leaned toward him without meaning to, the tiniest little bit.
Then her eyelids fluttered as if ready to close the moment his lips touched hers.
As if in slow motion, she could feel the minimal distance between them closing.
Closer and closer, his nose almost nudging hers, his breath ragged in the dark.
“I should let you get some sleep,” he said, pulling away.
Grace tensed. How fucking mortifying. She cleared her throat. “Yes, you too. I mean, you should get some sleep.”
He nodded and untangled himself from her before rising from the bed.
He shuffled backwards but stopped in the doorway and made eye contact with her again.
Grace was grateful for the darkness, which she hoped would hide her flushed, tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes.
If she was really lucky, it might also hide her accidental desire and complete embarrassment.
She had a faded birthmark on her forehead that only seemed to show itself when she was angry or devastated, but she imagined her flaws were safe in the shadows, hidden from his gaze.
“I—uh,” Rafael started.
Grace held her breath. What was he going to say? I would absolutely never kiss you? I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea, I’m just nice to sobbing women on occasion? I certainly pity you, but I’m not attracted to you?
The silence stretched across the room, filling the space between them. Grace refused to break it; she didn’t know if she could find words. Maybe he hadn’t noticed how primed she was for him to go to town on her mouth. Maybe he didn’t realize anything weird had happened at all.
She would go with that. Nothing weird to see here, just a sad girl losing her shit in her dreams, only to get all horny the second a hot dude lays a hand on her. No worries.
“Goodnight,” Rafael said at last. It felt like ten minutes had gone by, even if it had only been a matter of seconds.
Her face felt so hot, and she actually could have gone for that glass of water; she was probably dehydrated, but she would have to deal with it on her own when he was gone—when he wasn’t just standing there, unmoving, his gorgeous figure hovering in the doorway in a way that was totally going to haunt her sexual fantasies.
Except in her fantasies, he wouldn’t have pulled away.
“Goodnight. Thanks for—” She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. Thanks for waking me up from a terrible nightmare and pressing me into your body? She shrugged. “You know. Goodnight.”
He gave an almost imperceptible nod and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and Grace fell back against her pillow with a sigh.
Shit. That hadn’t been her best moment, but she was still holding onto the hope he hadn’t noticed.
Maybe that was na?ve, but a girl could pretend, and if they never spoke of it again, she would go right on pretending.
She resolved not to make a fool of herself again…
at least for a few days. She was going to do some research about Sacromonte and its history, and she was going to come up with brilliant ideas to help him.
She would impress him for real, not just with one stupid wall in the middle of the room, but with a whole host of knowledge and ideas for the underground exhibit.
And she would keep it so professional, it would be clear she wasn’t thinking about kissing him.
This was a business relationship. And maybe a weird roommate situation.
And maybe also some kind of friendship. But it was not romantic.
She just needed to keep repeating that to herself over and over again.