Chapter 2
TWO
“So the guy who’s selling this place…” Lucy’s eyes flicked to the side as she searched for the right words. “Is he still, um, around?”
Allie’s blond brows drew together. “Are you asking whether he’s dead?”
Lucy gestured toward the hydroponics setup that dominated the minuscule kitchen. Or, more accurately, toward the flourishing marijuana plants growing in that setup. “No. More whether he’s in jail. Because if he isn’t already, he will be once this episode airs.”
Jill waved a hand. “According to my notes, he’s hiking the Appalachian Trail. Don’t worry, we’ll cut out anything that would put him in legal jeopardy.”
“Oh, good.” Lucy’s lips quirked. “What are you going to use as this house’s nickname for the show? The Weed-Grower’s Way-Station? Mary Jane’s Manor? The Dank Dasha?”
The cameraman snickered, amused. Sebastián couldn’t blame him. As na?ve and innocent as Lucy seemed, she had a sneaky sense of humor. One he’d appreciated for well over a decade now.
“The Adventurer’s Abode.” Jill grinned. “It seemed fitting and less likely to get anyone arrested.”
“Nice alliteration.” With a couple of steps, Lucy bypassed the kitchen—which, he noted, boasted only a dorm-size refrigerator and a hot plate for her cooking convenience—and headed toward the area underneath the loft.
Then she stopped again, this time beside a rough hole sawed into a built-in bench.
The two cameras began filming once more, and the sound guy positioned the boom mic overhead, just in time to catch her hushed question.
“Is this…” She paused, then tried again. “Is this…the facilities?”
Allie strode into camera view and positioned herself by the hole. “It’s a wonderful feature, isn’t it? This setup uses so much less water than a traditional toilet. And I know how badly you want to lessen your carbon footprint.”
“It’s a hole in a bench.” Bending from the waist, Lucy peered inside the hole, careful not to let her long hair drop into the void. “With a plastic bag inside. One which, thankfully, appears unused. And there’s no door separating it from the rest of the house.”
“So environmentally responsible and personally liberating.” Allie smoothed her own hair. “It’s a real selling point. We’re fortunate someone hasn’t snapped up this property already.”
The woman had no shame. Sebastián could have told Lucy that back in high school, but she wouldn’t have believed him. She was, always and forever, determined to believe the best of everyone. Luckily, most of her friends had justified her continued loyalty.
Allie, not so much. And he had the feeling, from the stricken looks Lucy occasionally directed her old friend’s way, that she was starting to realize it.
“Allie,” Lucy whispered. “Could we talk for a minute without cameras?”
Her ostensible friend ignored the request, turned to the nearest camera, and began enumerating the very limited charms of the rundown shack in a determinedly cheerful tone.
Lucy’s head dropped to her chest, and she stood silent and still for a minute.
Sebastián fisted his hands in his pockets.
Over the years, he’d tamed his out-of-control emotions.
Very little bothered him. He knew he was a good son, a good brother, and a good friend.
Handsome enough not to lack for female company when he desired it.
Smart enough to succeed in his chosen field.
Strong enough to defend himself if necessary.
No insult imaginable could shake his confidence or provoke a reaction, and except around his family, he chose to keep any inconvenient feelings tucked safely away from view.
But Lucy’s wounded expression gutted him. Always had.
It didn’t matter whether the person who hurt her was a stranger, a friend like Allie, or an ex-boyfriend like that jackass Jarrod. Either way, Sebastián wanted to rage on her behalf. To demand apologies and offer them to her as her due. To comfort her by any means necessary.
But she was leaving. And although she’d no doubt send letters and postcards and e-mail messages, as she’d done until he’d returned to Marysburg last year, soon he wouldn’t be able to protect her or bask in her sunny presence any longer.
When she left this time, he knew she wouldn’t come back, to Marysburg or to him, and that knowledge had honed an unwelcome edge of desperation inside him.
Still, if buying a tiny house and moving away would restore her faith in herself, would bring back her sparkle, he’d do whatever it took to support her efforts.
Even if her imminent departure felt like suffocating slowly in a dark, airless room.
After depositing her worry stone in her pocket, Lucy squared her shoulders and finally responded to Allie.
“I appreciate the environmentalism of the facilities, but I’m not sure my level of personal liberation is sufficient for the task of using them.
” She winced. “I’m sorry. I may not believe in bras or leg-shaving, but apparently I draw the line at open-air toilets. ”
When Allie heaved an aggrieved sigh, he managed to keep his mouth shut.
Off-camera, the producer was waving them toward the loft. The only problem: Sebastián wasn’t certain Lucy could even get into it, at least not while wearing a long skirt.
“I’m sure you’re excited by the innovative loft access design.” Allie looked at the wall to the left of the loft. “I’ll let you explore that area without me. I’d just be in the way.”
Translation: She didn’t think she could get up there either.
“It’s a rock-climbing wall.” With an audible swallow, Lucy reached out to touch one of the fake stones anchored into the wood paneling. “There’s no ladder to the loft? Or steps?”
“Nope.” Allie bounded down the steps and disappeared outside.
Lucy cast a look of appeal at Jill. “If I’m climbing up there in a skirt, I really don’t want to be filmed while doing so.”
“Fair enough.” Jill nodded to the crew, who put down their cameras and mic.
“Why don’t you two check out the loft together?
Really take your time and see how you feel about such a small space, Lucy.
And Sebastián, it’s so fortunate you’re here.
She’ll be able to figure out how things would work if she had company. ”
He instinctively swallowed a howl of protest.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he simply accept that his old friend was starting a new life without him? One where she might have another man in her bed?
“We’ll join you two in a minute.” Jill headed outside too, followed by the rest of the crew.
Suddenly, he and Lucy were alone. She met his gaze with a smile, but that worry stone was in her palm again, and her soft brown eyes were anxious.
“Why don’t I climb up to the loft first?” He tested the holds and found them strong enough to support either of them, which came as a pleasant surprise. “Then I can help you, if you need it.”
To his relief, she laughed. “Oh, I’ll need it. We both know that.”
Halfway up the wall, he got his first real glimpse of the space into which he and Lucy were supposed to squeeze. Pausing for a moment, he took a slow, deep breath.
“Allie called it a cozy nest built for two.” Her tone was wry. “I’m guessing that means it’s essentially a double-wide coffin.”
He swallowed. “You’re not wrong.”
For Lucy, he could do this. For her, he’d do anything.
“Here goes nothing,” he said.
Within a moment, he’d made it to the top of the wall and levered himself over the side of the loft. He couldn’t sit up straight, not even in the center, where the pitched roof was highest.
“How is it up there?” She sounded tentative but curious.
It was dark. Too warm. The walls pressed in on him.
My breathing. I need to control my breathing. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
He couldn’t panic. Lucy needed him.
Rolling onto his stomach, he scooted his upper body over the edge of the loft and reached out with both hands toward the rock wall.
“Make sure your skirt doesn’t catch in your feet as you climb.
And grab onto my hands if you feel unsteady.
” His fingers were damp and trembling, and he wiped them on his jeans before extending them once more. “You can do it.”
She reached down and drew the back hem of her skirt up between her thighs, tucking it into the elastic waistband at the front. “Voila. Problem solved.”
Gazing at her bare legs, as it turned out, proved an effective distraction from his discomfort. Long and curvy, they were pale from the skirts she always wore. He hadn’t seen those legs uncovered since…when? That pool party the senior year of high school?
He’d only gone because she’d asked. He’d known how some of the other kids would respond to his skinny, hairless chest and the other obvious signs of his nonexistent puberty.
Sure enough, before the end of the night, she’d wound up standing between him and a sophomore attempting to pick a fight, no matter how hard he’d tried to move Lucy and how often he’d told her it didn’t matter, the insults didn’t bother him, he’d simply walk away.
The asshole had accidentally punched her in the mouth while aiming for Sebastián. And the next thing Sebastián remembered, both he and that kid had been sprawled across the concrete, throwing fists and elbows and trying to inflict maximum damage on each other.
After that incident, everyone had known the simple truth: He wasn’t impenetrable.
He had a weakness. He cared about something, which meant it—she—could be used to hurt him.
For those last few weeks of school, he’d waded into losing fight after losing fight in her defense, whenever other boys had insulted her or talked about her in gross, sexual terms in his presence.
He hadn’t wanted her that way. He hadn’t wanted anyone that way, not then. But the denigration of the best, purest thing that had ever happened to him, the way they’d tried to demean her and talked about her with such greasy familiarity, had stripped reason from him.