Chapter 5
FIVE
As they lay together on the bed, Lucy made sure she spoke directly into Sebastián’s ear, cognizant by now of just how sensitive that damned boom mic was. “We’re basically in the dick-lover’s Sistine Chapel. You realize that, right?”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t getting so close only because of the mic.
She wanted her mouth near him. She wanted her mouth on him. And holy goddess of fiery lust, she wanted his mouth on her, anywhere and everywhere.
He hadn’t relaxed since that first butt-to-butt contact earlier in the day. His shoulders had bunched into round masses, and that vein in his temple kept throbbing, throbbing, throbbing. He was either really irritated, really uncomfortable, or really turned on.
The problem: She didn’t know which. And he wouldn’t tell her.
She’d gotten a sense of his physical state in the shower, but that could have been fleeting and impersonal, the generic reaction of a straight man pressed up against a woman.
An erection, as she knew, didn’t mean much.
It was a physical response to stimuli, not a sign of specific desire or deeper emotions.
Without the context Sebastián wouldn’t give her, it meant nothing more than those scrawled drawings of dicks.
And balls, she quickly added. Mustn’t neglect the balls.
“I’m trying to appreciate this singular cultural opportunity.
” His voice was bone-dry, and his body against hers was tense and exuding heat, despite the lingering dampness of their clothing.
“I hadn’t expected the kids to create such a masterpiece on the ceiling of the back of the bus.
Consider me impressed by the level of detail and the sheer quantity of penises. ”
“Michelangelo could have taken some lessons.” She grinned. “He missed an amazing opportunity to replace those touching fingers with something else, for example.”
When a rare chuckle rumbled in his chest, she shifted to see his expression and almost fell off the bed. His left arm flashed out just in time, though, catching her and pulling her back against him.
“Thank you.” She stayed on her side, facing him. If one of her breasts was now nudging his arm, well, that wasn’t her fault. It was an issue of safety, above all. “I don’t want to land on that floor.”
He tried to move closer to the wall, but there was nowhere to go. “Understandably.”
The bed—which, having learned their lesson from the Hashish Hideaway, they’d covered with Sebastián’s tarp before testing—really wasn’t big enough for two people. Nevertheless, she’d again mentioned the possibility of special company and requested they try to fit in it together.
She was growing quite fond of her special company tests. The cameras and mic and people surrounding them, less so. And the bed felt like a slab of concrete beneath her.
In her opinion, though, it was still a vast improvement over the Loft of Head Trauma. “So what do you think about this bedroom, compared to the loft?”
His response was measured and neutral, as always. “What I think doesn’t matter.”
But it did. In more ways than she could express.
“Please.” She lifted up on an elbow to catch his eye. “I want your opinion. I promise I won’t let it override mine.”
When she asked him for something, he didn’t often refuse her. This time was no exception.
“This mattress probably originated as a torture device in the Spanish Inquisition.” He repositioned himself and winced. “But for a variety of reasons, I prefer this bedroom.”
“Because we didn’t have to climb a rock wall to get here, and I’m less likely to brain myself with every attempt to sit upright?”
“That’s part of it.”
The lump under his cool, thick hair felt smaller, thank goddess. After she checked the evidence of injury, she let her fingers linger and play with the silky strands. “I’m so sorry you got hurt helping me.”
He shifted his shoulders. “It’s fine. At least I have a few more days off to recover before I return to work next week.”
“True.” She lowered her hand and rested it on his chest. “So why else do you prefer this bedroom?”
At the question, his heart rate noticeably increased beneath her palm. She frowned, concerned.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
She was increasingly unwilling to accept that pat, easy answer. “It does. Tell me.” Spreading her fingers, she tried to infuse all her affection, all her sincerity into her touch. Maybe that physical connection could reach his heart, even if her words didn’t. “Please.”
“I can’t.”
He raised his head and looked at both cameras recording their every move, the boom mic registering their every word. At some point in the last few seconds, she’d forgotten about them, forgotten about everyone and everything else but Sebastián.
Yet another unnecessary interruption would probably infuriate Allie. It might even nudge Jill from indulgence to impatience. But the man beside her was worth a little trouble.
She caught Jill’s eye. “Can we stop filming for a minute?”
The camera operators looked to the producer, who nodded. “Let’s take five and give them some privacy. I think we got plenty of usable footage.”
“Can’t you talk after filming is done? This was supposed to be the next-to-last shot of the day.” Allie stood near the bed, hands on her hips. “Let’s wrap things up.”
Jill’s voice was firm. “I agreed to Lucy’s request. Please give them a few minutes alone, Allie.”
Her mouth pinched tight, Allie strode away, the crew close behind her. The bus grew quiet. And when Lucy turned back to Sebastián, that shallow furrow had appeared between his brows.
Maybe she shouldn’t keep touching him. Shouldn’t propose these special company tests. Shouldn’t push him to share more of himself, body and soul, when she might upend the foundation of their friendship by doing so.
But time was running out. She was leaving in a matter of weeks, and she didn’t expect to return to Marysburg anytime soon.
If she didn’t take her chances now, she’d likely never know what he really felt, much less what they could be together.
She’d never know whether she should have postponed her trip to Minneapolis, or even canceled it entirely.
He was worth the risk. They were worth the risk.
So she smoothed away that furrow between his brows with a fingertip. “Tell me.”
“In school, I…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I got shoved into a lot of lockers. A lot of closets too. Which is a cliché, but it happened.”
Oh, no. She knew now where this was leading, and her heart folded in two.
She levered herself over him, positioning her body so she was resting full-length on top of him, a human blanket. “You couldn’t get out.”
“They were dark. And really tight, even for a small kid like me.” He took a shuddering breath beneath her. “I sometimes…um, panicked.”
“Of course you did. Anyone would.” She cupped his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
When they’d attended Marysburg High together, the school had been overcrowded, underfunded, and understaffed.
Unless parents chose to raise an enormous fuss, things like bullying had gone largely unnoticed and unpunished.
She’d alerted trustworthy teachers to the incidents she’d seen, but Sebastián had refused to share his story.
And she knew her friend. He would have convinced his parents to let the matter go, if they’d even known about the bullies in the first place.
“Don’t apologize. You tried to help.” His breathing became deeper again, slower. “I wouldn’t let you.”
“Does this space bother you?” Despite the relatively high ceilings, the bus owner had squeezed the bedroom into a small area, and she didn’t yet understand the extent of Sebastián’s claustrophobia. “I’ll get up, so you can have some breathing room.”
When she tried to move, his arms wrapped around her, holding her in place. “No. I’m fine here. And having you with me changes things.”
“How?” She let herself drape over him once more. Her ear rested on his chest, and his heartbeat, strong and steady, echoed in her head. “I chatter so much that you can’t think?”
Jarrod had told her that. He hadn’t meant it as a compliment.
Sebastián’s hand slid slowly up her spine. He gave the nape of her neck a gentle squeeze, while his other hand rested at the small of her back, heavy and warm.
The touch was pure comfort and pure excitement at the same time.
“Whether you talk or not, you’re a potent distraction, Lucy.” His fingers probed at her neck muscles, finding tension and kneading it away. “And hearing your voice is usually the highlight of my day.”
She stilled beneath his hands. For years, she’d assumed her occasional wistful imaginings were one-sided. But now…
Raising her head, she looked down at him. His lips were parted, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. Heat streaked across his cheekbones, and beneath her that predictable physical reaction had occurred again. Because he wanted her? Or because a woman, any woman, was lying atop him?
He offered her a small smile. “There once was a girl from Virginny, who looked at a bus that was mini. She saw many big dicks, and for one final trick, against her friend’s fears she did win-ny.”
“Holy fuck, Seb.” She buried her face against his shirt and laughed. “That may be your worst limerick yet. You rhymed Virginny and win-ny.”
When she raised her head again, he was laughing too. “Also, the bus isn’t actually mini, but such are the compromises of literary genius.”
His face had lit with amusement, his cheeks creased in that adorable way she’d seen far too few times, and never in such close proximity. His expression was open and unguarded, and he’d just shared more of himself with her than ever before.
In that moment, Sebastián Castillo was the most beautiful sight she’d ever witnessed. Nothing else could compare. Not sparkling Hawaiian waterfalls or snowcapped Alps or lush Caribbean rain forests. Not smooth orbs of amethyst or hearts carved of rose quartz.