Chapter 16 #2
Grace brushed some loose hair behind her ear with her free hand. “It is. It makes me feel so small.”
Rafael tried not to stare at her. He tried not to wonder what would happen after this, after their whirlwind adventures at cathedrals and monasteries. Maybe they would eat and drink wine. Maybe they would kiss again. Maybe they would return home and stumble back to his bedroom…
“What?” Grace asked.
“What?” he repeated, feigning innocence.
“Stop staring at me,” she said, leaning over and nudging her shoulder against his.
The side of his mouth hitched. “Why? I like looking at you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Such a charmer,” she said.
He was a charmer when he wanted to be. He prided himself on it, in fact. But this felt different somehow. It felt real.
“Do you come here often?” Grace asked. “That’s not a line,” she clarified.
“What’s a line?” Rafael asked, pretending to be oblivious.
Grace cleared her throat. “You know, like a come on.”
He shook his head, trying not to smile.
“I mean, I’m not just flirting.” A blush crept into her cheeks again before she caught his eye and realized he was teasing her. “Just answer the question.”
He smiled and leaned toward her, almost whispering. “No,” he said. “I do not come here often. I might like you to think I hang out at beautiful, historic cathedrals on a regular basis, but it’s a special occasion.”
“What’s the occasion?” Grace asked, a hint of flirtation creeping into her voice.
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to distract her with the glimmering sacristy at the head of the building. “Would you believe I’ve never paid much attention to any of this. It almost seems like it should be a crime.”
“What? Gilding a chubby angel in that much gold?”
“Not appreciating something so spectacular when it’s right in front of you.” He squeezed her hand, and Grace rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling.
She turned away from him toward the figures at the front of the building, everything golden or brightly colored, everything breathtaking.
The beauty of it all made Rafael feel like he was almost outside of himself, a separation of soul and body that wasn’t religious or spiritual, despite the setting.
It was unlike anything he’d ever imagined before. It was like he was floating.
Grace stifled a yawn with her sleeve then glanced at him sheepishly.
“Are you bored with all of this art, Graciela?” Rafael joked.
“Of course not. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” She looked down, trying to hide her small smile from view.
“Very true.” That reminder sent a thrill through him. “And it’s been a long day,” he added. He couldn’t wait to touch her again, more than just her hand. “Should we go home?” How did that feel so natural? The two of them together, comfortable and happy, heading home.
Grace nodded and bit her lip.
“Now you’re being quiet. And there weren’t nearly as many penis jokes as I remember from the last time I was your tour guide through a Spanish city.”
The tension in her eyes seemed to ease. “Oh, I had a few of them, but I kept them to myself. I know how you feel about that kind of humor.”
Rafael put his palm to his chest. “I’m a changed man, aren’t I? I can take a good dick joke. I want to hear them all. Don’t hold back.”
A surprised laugh slipped out as Grace shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I can be, if given the chance. Sometimes I’m even a little funny.”
She eased back, as if assessing him, trying to take in the full picture. “I guess we’ll see about that,” she replied.
“I don’t know what that means. Are you keeping a record of my jokes?”
She laughed, and the couple walking nearby glanced in their direction. He wanted to wrap an arm around her, to claim her as if to say, “I made that happen. That laugh belongs to me.”
“I don’t know either.” Grace shrugged. “I’m too tired to know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m sorry someone wore you out so much,” he teased.
Grace pressed her lips together, clearly trying hard to hide her satisfied smile.
The air in the apartment seemed charged when they arrived, and Rafael allowed the flashes of memory to play through his mind—Grace pressed between him and the wall, her legs wrapped around his middle, the way she’d hurried him along, so eager and ready, as if she’d been waiting for it too.
Now that they were back to the apartment in the light of day, however, neither of them seemed sure of what to do next. They no longer had fifteenth century architecture or fat gilded angels to distract them. Rafael wasn’t sure how to behave.
Grace hung her jacket on a hook, and then looked around the room, searching for something. Then she went to the kitchen and started washing a few dishes that were in the sink.
He stood behind the counter, trying to lean against it with an air of nonchalance, but in reality, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. They’d had a beautiful day together, but something felt off. Rafael took a breath and decided to address it. “Um, are you okay?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him with a tight smile. “Of course. What do you mean?”
He stood up straighter, trying to parse out her expression and body language, nervous there was something she wasn’t telling him. “Just making sure. I—um—had a good time today.”
She put the last dish in the drying rack and turned around, her shoulders relaxing. “So did I.”
He was frozen, unsure if he should go toward her, unsure what this thing was between them and how to navigate it. His fingers twitched at his sides. “We haven’t—” he started.
“I was thinking—” she said at the same time.
They both paused. Even when they’d first started living together, they hadn’t been quite like this, so unsure of each other, so hesitant.
Rafael started to move slowly around the counter, wanting to be nearer to her without putting too much pressure on the situation.
Grace dried her hands on a dish towel, studying him.
Surely, she could see how anxious he was, how unlike his usual self.
“We can talk about everything, and I just want to make sure—"
Grace tossed the towel aside, then pushed herself up so she was sitting on top of the counter. “Maybe we should just kiss.”
Rafael’s body went rigid. “Hmm? I know we live together right now, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like—”
“Come here,” she ordered, and he obeyed. He wasn’t used to her being so commanding, but he didn’t mind in the least.
She lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, and he closed his eyes, memorizing her touch.
He’d craved this all day, but he still felt nervous.
He was so aware that they’d still never had a discussion about what all of this meant, and even if he tried to play it cool, he was dying to know what she was thinking.
He cared what this meant, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He never wanted her to stop.
“There’s too much tension,” she explained, and Rafael finally opened his eyes. “I think if we can just get this part out of the way, it won’t be so awkward.”
She bit her lip, and for a brief moment he could see the hesitation in her eyes.
He could tell she was pretending to be surer and more confident than she was, telling him what she wanted even if she might have been afraid to say it out loud.
He leaned in and pressed his body against hers until her thighs were spread, and she was straddling him from the counter.
Rafael let himself feel the warmth of her every curve, the soft breath on his cheek as she exhaled with relief and excitement.
“Please, Raf,” she whispered into his ear. “Kiss me.”
He nuzzled into her neck, then grazed his nose along her jaw, anticipation building as he made his way toward her mouth.
When he finally pressed his lips to hers, she let out a satisfied breath, encouraging him further.
His hands went under her shirt. His erection strained against his pants already, aching.
She moved to his neck, sucking his skin between her teeth. Her hand slid down to where their bodies were pressed together, and she reached for the buttons of his pants.
“Graciela,” he hissed.
She gasped and moved back toward his lips, still fumbling with his buttons.
The top one sprang open. What a terrible pair of pants.
No one needed this many buttons along the ridge of their crotch.
He couldn’t wait to be free. Button number two came undone while his fingers worked that back of her bra, and all the while they were still kissing—hungry, excited kisses.
Suddenly, a loud banging echoed through the room. Rafael and Grace jerked apart, both searching for the source of the noise before staring at the front door.
“Hello?” a voice said, and the pounding started again.
Grace glanced at him. “Alma?” she whispered. She slid from the counter and started across the room in a panic.
“Shit,” Rafael said, looking down at his pants, hurriedly trying to button himself back together and hide his bulge. He stepped behind the counter, hoping he could perch there until he’d calmed himself a bit.
Grace glanced at him before she opened the door, and he gave a quick nod.
Alma burst into the room in a frenzy, marching right past Grace and unwinding her scarf, obviously clueless about what she was interrupting. His sister apparently had a knack for cock-blocking his passionate encounters with her best friend, even if she was completely oblivious each time.
“What’s going on?” Grace asked, shutting the door and trailing behind his sister.
Alma started pacing a route through the living room. She eyed Rafael wearily and then whipped back around toward Grace.
“Obinna and I are done,” she said, her voice full of an emotion he’d never heard from her before. “And I don’t know what to do.”