The Spanish Love Deception novel Chapter 126

A series of F-bombs were dropped, blasting across my mind as blurry images flashed through my head.

No, no, no, no.

Those fingers brushed my skin again, and a deep and throaty noise left the man sleeping beside me.

A dream. All those images had to have been a dream because we couldn’t have almost kissed. That was completely crazy. That was—

At the fastest pace known to man, all the events from last night solidified. They tumbled down my memory, flashing behind my eyes and making me recall every last one of them. Each and every one of those images, snippets—memories—replayed in my mind in painfully slow motion.

All the sidra. Aaron’s fabricated story about how we had started dating. The way his eyes had been locked on me all through the night. Us dancing in the middle of a dark club with sticky floors, lost among the sea of bodies. My freak-out. Aaron sitting with me on the sidewalk, taking care of me, telling me about himself. Opening up and laying out a piece of himself for me. Him pressing me against the wardrobe. My body coming alive—being lit on fire—with all those featherlight brushes of his lips and fingers. Lina. Aaron had called me Lina. Right before he brushed his lips over mine.

We had almost kissed.

No. I had almost begged Aaron to kiss me, and I would have done more than just that.

“When I finally kiss you, there won’t be any doubt in your mind that it is real,” he had said that before going to check if what had burst our bubble of madness was Charo.

And I had lain on the bed and passed out immediately.

Fuck, fuck. Mierda, joder.

I needed to get out of this bed. I needed time to think, to process. Away from Aaron. Before I did something stupid. Or reckless. Something like almost kissing him.

A low groan climbed up my throat, and I had no other choice but to muffle it with my hand. The sudden motion made the mattress bounce under me.

Shit.

Aaron stretched beside me.

Don’t wake up, please. Please, universe. God. Anyone. I just need a couple of minutes to gather myself before I have to face him.

I felt Aaron’s body settle back, his breathing remaining deep and constant.

Returning my hand back to my side—very fucking slowly—I thanked the universe for listening to me this one time and promised I’d make up for it. I’d go to church with Abuela next time I came home, I swore.

I was being a complete chicken, but I wanted a few minutes to myself. Just so I could appease everything that kept darting through my mind. To make peace with it and move on like nothing had ever happened. Also, to hunt down a painkiller and kill the throbbing in my head. Coffee would be good too.

And the first step was getting the hell out of this bed—from under the arm I had desperately been gripping for dear life only a few hours ago—as fast and as quietly as I possibly could before Aaron’s eyes opened and found me losing my shit.

Lifting Aaron’s heavy limb as delicately and slowly as I could, I rolled to the side, right to the edge of the bed, and then I deposited his muscular body part back on the comforter. Aaron moved, turning on his back and lifting that arm that had been on top of me so it rested behind his head.

That position caused his biceps to flex and look all big and delectable and—

Jesus Christ, Catalina.