Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2) (30 page)

“I know,” I say, slipping back under the covers.

“Are you scared?” Laura asks.

“I am,” I say. “Really scared. All this time, I thought something was wrong with me. My dad treated me like shit, so I thought maybe I
was
shit. But I’m not. I deserve better. I deserve to be treated better than that. I deserve a great guy like Javier, and he deserves someone who loves him for himself. It’s just gotta be the right moment. He’s always been so romantic with me, and I want to return the favor.”

“Fair point,” Laura says.

“Something romantic,” Viv says. “Hm.”

After a minute, her eyes light up. “Rafa mentioned that Javier is practicing with his band tonight at the monastery,” she says. “I could get the details from Rafa—on the down low, of course—and then you could surprise him there?”

“Perfect!” Laura says. “Surprises are always romantic.”

“You think?” I wrinkle my nose. “I mean, I love a good surprise, but you don’t think he’ll be taken off guard? I haven’t spoken to him since I ran out of his apartment yelling ‘fuck you’.”

“Even if he is taken off guard, you can make up for it with a little road head in that hot Range Rover of his afterward,” Viv says. “Oooh, or better yet, on his plane.”

Laura sticks out her lips. “Wouldn’t that be sky head?”

“Air head, maybe?” I offer. “Pilot head? Mile high head?”

“Whatever it’s called, I’d give it a go,” Viv says. “Knowing Javier, he’d give you a little mile high head of your own, too.”

Javier would. Oh, he definitely,
definitely
would.
 

“All right,” I say. “I’ll do it—I’ll surprise him tonight. I just gotta kick this hangover before then.”

“Don’t wear any underwear,” Viv says.

“
Do
wear those pleather legging things,” Laura adds. “They looked so hot on you.”

“This is going to be epic. I wish I could be there to see his face when you tell him.” Viv squeezes my arm. “I’m so happy for you, Mads.”

I offer her a small smile. “Thanks Viv. I think I’m happy, too.”

Chapter 24

Javier

That Night

I’m weirdly jittery on my drive to the monastery tonight. I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen.

Something that has to do with Maddie.

My thoughts swirl as my stomach ties itself into a neat, painful little knot. I tried calling her this morning to check in, see how she was feeling; I thought, foolishly, that maybe she’d unblocked me. I imagine she had the hangover from hell; part of me fantasized that she’d ask me over, and I’d bring ibuprofen and a Gatorade, and she’d say
listen, Javi, I’ve thought about it and I believe what you told me, I know you don’t want Carmen, I know I’m the one for you.

She’d pause, look me in the eye. And then she’d say
you said something to me last night, and I’d like to say it back.

But Maddie didn’t unblock me. The call never went through.

I shove the Range Rover into gear. I guess I should take the hint already. She told me, in no uncertain terms, that she isn’t looking for a relationship. She ran out of my flat
again
, for God’s sake, and aside from holding back her hair while she threw up that night at Ático, I haven’t heard from her since.
 

I should take the hint and move on. But I’m in love with her. Head over heels in love with her wit and her mess, her intelligence and her passion. Her legs, too.

God I love her legs.

I’m getting hard just thinking about them.

I dig a handful of mints out of the glove compartment and chew on them five at a time. I haven’t had a cigarette since Leo came over that morning. Between the two of us we smoked a pack in half an hour.

I was sick for two days afterward. As if I didn’t feel miserable and lonely enough after the way Maddie left my flat.

Still. I want one very, very badly at the moment.

Very
badly.

My unease only grows as I shuffle my way inside the monastery. I wanted to invite Maddie to come tonight, but for obvious reasons I couldn’t. I know she only has a few weeks left until she heads back to the states. No doubt she’s getting anxious to nail down some material for her thesis before she leaves.

She’s leaving
. I feel it like a knife shoved through my chest. If I’ve learned one thing about myself since I got back to Madrid, it’s that I don’t fall often for a girl. But when I do, I fall
hard
. Really fucking hard.

And it hurts.

Maybe Maddie has the right idea, putting up walls to protect herself, her heart. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.

Maybe Maddie is the smart one. She was hesitant about trying out a long distance relationship. Flying across an ocean is no joke; it would be time consuming and hella expensive, not to mention the jet lag. Jet lag is the fucking worst.

Besides. Even in the best case scenario, Maddie and I would be apart more than we’d be together. The pain of that separation would be terrible, considering how much I’ve missed her these past few days.
Maybe Maddie was smart to think that giving us a chance was a stupid idea.

My footsteps echo off the gallery walls.

I draw up short when I enter the church. The stage lights are on, almost blinding in their intensity; it makes the rest of the soaring space feel like it’s cloaked in a blanket of velvety dimness.

The church is empty, save for woman who sits in a seat halfway up the aisle. I know that head of long, perfectly coiffed brown hair.
Shit
. It hits me with sudden, sickening force: I never responded to her text.

“María Carmen,” I say, my heart beginning to pound. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here so late.”

She turns in her seat, bright red lips parting in a wide, lovely smile. It used to hit me squarely in the chest, the beauty of her smile, like someone landed a kick right in the center of my breastbone.

It doesn’t anymore.

“I was hoping to catch you before your band arrived,” she says in thick, lusciously accented English. She stands. “How are you?”

I’m surrounded in a cloud of her perfume as we exchange kisses. Her lips linger a touch too long on my cheeks, and there’s something sensual about the way she pulls back; something suggestive about the way she looks at me, brown eyes soft with heat.

“I’m all right,” I say. “And you?”

“I am well.” She nods at her seat. “Sit with me a moment while we wait for the others.”

I glance toward the stage.
Shit
. After everything that happened between me and Maddie, I completely forgot about Carmen’s text—the one she sent me. The one that sent Maddie running.

I should’ve turned Carmen down on the spot, I should’ve responded to the text straightaway with a
thanks but no thanks
, but I was too busy chasing after a certain American student to think about calling Carmen back and explaining why I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.

I feel like an ass. Carmen broke up with her boyfriend for me, for God’s sake. It didn’t sound like she was very happy with him—it didn’t sound like he treated her very well—but still, I should’ve had the decency to nip her feelings for me in the bud before tonight.

I should’ve had the decency to explain myself to her. But now that I have the chance, I’m too exhausted, and in too much pain, to rehash everything that’s gone down in the past month. To tell her that I’m not in love with her, that I’m in love with someone else. Someone who doesn’t want to be with me. I’ve barely slept; I feel raw in every way imaginable.

What a fucking mess I’ve made.

 
“I really should set up—” I begin.

“You have the stage the rest of the night, Javier,” Carmen replies. “I made sure to get you an extra few hours. Plenty of time. Please, sit.”

I sit. The seats are narrow, having been installed sometime in the sixties when people were apparently much tinier than they are now. My knee brushes María Carmen’s leg. I try to move it, but I don’t have anywhere to move it
to
. Our thighs stick like glue.

You haven’t responded to my text,
she says after a beat.
I sent it four days ago.

I swallow. Run a hand down my face.

I’m sorry
, I say. Exhaustion sits like a hundred kilo weight on my chest.
Sorry about you and Pedro. Sorry for not calling you back. Listen, Carmen—

I went to the Juan Ramos concert when you guys played here—back in March, I think?

Yes,
I reply.
We played a couple shows at the beginning of March this year. Madrid has always been kind to us—a really great crowd.

I saw you playing up there with Juan,
she says.
I felt like my heart was going to burst. I was so proud of you, looking so handsome. Looking like you were having fun. I remember how we’d go to concerts together years ago, and you’d always tell me look, look, Carmen, one day I’m going to be up there on stage. And now you are. You’re making your dreams come true, Javi.

I look down at my knee. It’s jumping.

Thanks,
I say.
That’s very kind of you to say. You’re doing the same, aren’t you, working at a place like this? You always loved history.

Carmen scoffs, shaking her head.
You and I both know my parents got me this job. They give more money to the foundation each year than I get paid in my salary.

That doesn’t mean you’re not good at it,
I say.

I don’t know
, she replies.
It’s hard to tell if the directors encourage me because they actually believe in my work, or because my parents are so important to them.

You’ve struggled with that all your life.
I look her in the eye.
You’re talented, Carmen. You have a gift. With or without your parents’ millions.

Javi
, she says.
What are you thinking? About us. I can’t read you right now. Part of me believes you came back to Madrid so we could be together again.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip.
I was ready to get off the road. Settle down a bit
, I say carefully.
 

I want to settle down, too,
she says.
I hope you don’t mind me asking, Javi—but are you dating Maddie? You two seem to have gotten…close.

I keep my gaze focused on Carmen.
No. I’m not dating her. But I should tell you—

Vale
, Carmen replies with a smile. She leans closer.

Closer. Tilts her head. Reaches out and traces a finger across my cheek.

And then she kisses me.
 

I freeze, dumb with shock.

I should’ve seen it coming. I know Carmen. I know how she operates, I know if she sees something she wants, she’s going to take it. She has never been denied anything—opportunity, money, men—so why in the world would she think to ask first?

Her kiss—the way her mouth moves against mine—it’s familiar.

And it’s
weird.

And it feels wrong.

Which makes me realize how
right
it felt to kiss Maddie.

Not that it matters. Maddie isn’t coming back. No matter what I say or do, no matter how I feel about her, she’s never going to give me a chance to explain myself. She may still be in Madrid for another few weeks, but for all intents and purposes, she’s gone for good.

The girl who liked me for me—who couldn’t care less about my past, who I was, what I did—the girl who felt more like home than home ever did, is gone.

When I first started dating Carmen years ago, I was so crazy about her one kiss would send me into a tailspin, making me hard as a rock in the space of two seconds.

I wait for something—anything—to stir inside my body. To make my blood rush, and appendages tingle. I wait. And wait.

Nothing.

I feel nothing.

Not a damn thing.

But I don’t pull away. Instead I close my eyes and let Carmen kiss me.

Maybe her kiss won’t get me all hot and bothered.

But maybe it will help me forget Maddie’s kiss.
Maddie
. Guapa. How pressing her lips to mine struck a match inside me and lit me on fire and burned me from the inside out.

I’m still burning.

I still fucking burn for her, hotter than ever, even though it’s obvious she’s gone cold toward me.

Maddie and I don’t want the same things. I’m sure, but she’s scared. I want slow, she wants fast.

I’ve been trying to get back to the place I call home.

She’s been trying to get away.

Maddie doesn’t want me, that much is clear. I can’t keep holding this torch for her if she won’t have me.

It hurts too much.

So I take Carmen’s face in my hands and kiss her back. Even though it’s wrong, and even though I should pull away and tell Carmen no, no, we aren’t meant to be together, I kiss her back.

My desperation to forget Maddie trumps everything else—my manners, my sense of wrong and right.