Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2) (7 page)

I’m so glad to be home.

“Any big plans for today?” Rafa sets his cup down on its saucer with a small
clink
.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” I say. “I’ve started a new band with some of the guys from way back—you know, Leo Gomez, Sergio, a few others. A bit of a pet project—I’m craving something different after playing Juan’s stuff for so long. I haven’t written very much so far. I guess I have a bit of writer’s block. But I’m hoping to have more luck now that I’m home.”

“That’s awesome,” Rafa replies. He still has a pretty heavy accent, but his English has gotten much better now that he’s with Vivian. I’m proud of him. “Where are you practicing? Not your flat, right?”

I spoon a little more sugar into my espresso and give it a slow stir. “God, no. You know how Leo plays—I’d get evicted. I actually got back in touch with María Carmen. Did you know she works at El Monasterio de los Humildes Reales now? She finagled a bit of practice time for us there. It’s really a lovely venue.”

“María Carmen.” Rafa tilts his head, spearing me with a look. “I didn’t know she was back in the picture.”

Heat creeps up my neck.

“She’s not,” I say. “I guess she’s dating some hot-shot bond trader or something, so…yeah. She’s taken.”

“You seem disappointed.”

I shrug. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bummed. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately.”

The look of censure in Rafa’s eyes bores two holes into my head.
 

“You guys broke up, what, five years ago?” he says.

“Three and a half,” I reply, more defensively than I mean to.

“You know, Javi,” he says. “I’ve always believed it’s better to look forward than to look back. Things—people, places, relationships—in your past should stay there, and for good reason. I’ve found that better things, better people, usually lie ahead. You’ve changed. Carmen’s changed.”

I tear at my croissant, flaky bits of pastry falling onto my lap. “Maybe. But one thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that she knew me before I was famous.”

“You’re not
that
famous.” Rafa smiles. “You’re D list at best. Maaaybe.”

“I’m a solid C list celebrity, thank you very much. But my point is, Carmen fell in love with me when I had nothing to offer except my good looks and keen sense of humor.”

“Again, you’re not that funny. Or very good looking, now that I think about it.”

I roll my eyes, grinning. “She loved me when I was nobody. She loved me for me. Rafa, that’s what I’ve been missing. That, to me, is happiness. What I had with Carmen made me happy.”

“And you don’t think you can find that kind of happiness with someone else? Someone new?”

“Who?” I scoff. “Someone like Maddie Lucas? She ran out of my flat like it was on fire.”

“I know you’re annoyed with her for what she did. But I told you her parents are going through a very bad divorce. The call with her dad was probably about that.”

“I know. Still. Don’t you think she owes me an explanation?”

Rafa’s eyes flick to a spot over my shoulder. “Maybe you’ll get one right now.”

My hands go still on my plate. I look pointedly at Rafa.

“What did you do?” I ask.

It’s his turn to shrug. “No big deal. I invited the girls to breakfast.”

“The girls?” I say. “Meaning Vivian and Maddie?”

Rafa’s about to answer when his face breaks into that love-struck smile he wears whenever Viv is around. I would think it was cute if I didn’t want to wring his neck.

I close my eyes and let out a long, low sigh.

The way Maddie left me last weekend was definitely not cool. I know the call with her dad upset her, but she can’t run out on me like that. It makes me think that I did something wrong—that I offended her, or hurt her. Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t, but I wouldn’t know because Maddie didn’t stay to explain herself.

“Buenos días, Rafa,” I hear Vivian say.

Sitting back in my chair, I glance over my shoulder.

My gaze collides with Maddie’s. Cappuccino in hand, she draws up short. Her blue eyes widen in naked surprise. For half a heartbeat, something—something like fear, or embarrassment—flashes across those wide, intelligent eyes.

For half a heartbeat, she’s the vulnerable girl who left my flat in tears.

But then she blinks and that girl is gone. She meets my gaze head on, a suggestive smirk playing at the corners of her pretty little mouth. This—
this
is the girl who picked me up and took me home and fucked my brains out.

I stare at her. It’s obvious that something is going on with Maddie. Her bravado, the sex, her hurt—it doesn’t add up. It goes much deeper, that hurt, that vulnerability, than I thought.

She’s covering up something very painful by pretending like this.

Not that I’m ever going to know what that something is beyond the things Rafa told me about her parents. Maddie made it clear she wanted nothing more than a hook up. No strings attached, no expectations. No follow-up, and no friendship. Even if I am curious—even if I do hate the thought of her hurting—there’s no way she’ll allow me to get close enough to help.

Besides. I finally get to see María Carmen today. I’ve been thinking about our meeting for a while now. We’ve caught up on a few phone calls over the past few months, but it’s been years since I last saw her. I have no doubt she’s just as beautiful, as lovely as she was back then, when we were eighteen and in love.
 

She’s
the girl I want. Not the messy, maddening girl standing behind me.

“Why hel
lo
, Javier,” Maddie says. I take the plate of churros she’s holding and place it on the table.

Then I stand and press a kiss into each of her cheeks. Her skin is smooth and soft. It’s my turn to pretend; pretend that my pulse doesn’t leap at her feminine warmth.

“Como estás
,
Maddie?” I ask her the more formal version of
how are you
—I usually use ‘qué tal’ with my friends—and wonder if she’ll pick up on the fact that I’m a bit ticked off.

She doesn’t, or at least pretends not to. She glides past me, her arm brushing mine, and slides into the booth opposite my chair.

“I’ll be all right after I pound this coffee,” she replies. “The espresso in Spain was pretty intense at first, but now that I’m used to it, I’m addicted.”

Maddie sips carefully at her cappuccino. I sit down. A beat of awkward silence settles between us as Viv and Rafa embrace and suck each other’s faces for a few excruciating seconds.

“So I never got to thank you for last weekend,” Maddie says. Her purring voice is pitched low, low enough so that I have to lean forward in my chair to hear it. “I had a good time.”

A good time
? I want to shout.
You call running out on me in tears with no apology or explanation after a night of seriously awesome sex a
good time?

I just look at her. I don’t even try to come up with something polite to say back. This is exactly why I am so ready to settle down. I’m done with these games, these half-truths. Navigating them is exhausting.

“Everything all right here?” Vivian asks when she and Rafa finally come up for air.

“Yeah.” Maddie’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Everything’s perfect.”

I look away from her and run a hand down my face, giving my growing stubble a good scrape.

“So Vivian,” I say. I pick up the plate of churros, offering Viv and then Maddie one—she takes me up on it—before I dig in myself. “I hear you’re enjoying the museums here in Madrid. You’re an art major, correct?”

“Art history,” Viv says around a mouthful of churro. “Maddie’s the real artist, though. You should see her drawings.”

I arch a brow, venturing a glance at Maddie. “Are you an art history major as well?”

Her brown hair curls over her shoulder as she shakes her head, swallowing the last of her churro. “Architecture. History has always been my favorite subject, though, so I’d like to one day do something in historical preservation. I used to think I’d work in Charleston, close to home—they have these great antebellum mansions and plantations that are just so cool—but now I’m kinda thinking the opposite.”

“Meaning you
don’t
want to work close to home?”

It’s subtle, her movement, and if I wasn’t paying attention I would’ve missed it. But her whole body tenses, shoulders screwing up to her ears as she takes a long breath, lets it out. A shadow passes across her face.

“No,” she says. “I don’t. The further away the better, actually. Which is why this study abroad thing couldn’t have come at a better time. Considering how old this city is, I’ve been hoping to find some inspiration for my thesis. You know, a preservation project I could study, or a palace that needs some work. It’d be cool to come back here for grad school and continue something I started. But so far, no dice.”

“Really?” I pull back. “That surprises me. Spain’s the perfect place for that sort of thing. We’ve literally got layers upon layers of history here. First the Romans, then the Moors and the Jews. The Catholic monarchs, and Napoleon. Our cities are ancient. I’m surprised you can’t find something to work on, something that inspires you.”

Maddie shrugs, her shoulders falling back to where they should be. “It’s not the inspiration that’s the problem. Madrid is endlessly fascinating—I’ve maxed out my laptop’s memory with all the pictures I’ve taken!—but it’s the access I’m struggling with. I’ll find this cool medieval alley, or a little church tucked away on a side street. But when I ask for permission to study the structures, I’m ignored, or flat out denied. It happens every time. Apparently you need to know someone who knows someone. And I don’t know anyone in Madrid, aside from my American classmates at San Pedro.”

“You know me,” Rafa says. “And now you know Javier.”

I look down at my empty plate. Maddie knows me in the Biblical sense, yeah.

But beyond that? Not really.

“No offense,” Maddie says. “But unless either of you have a contact at a palace or castle I don’t know about, I don’t think you’ll be of much help. But it’s sweet of you to offer, Rafa. Thank you.”

Rafa looks at me, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Oh.

Oh no.

He wouldn’t—

“As a matter of fact,” he says, “Javier does have a hook-up. And at a castle, too—very old. It was a monastery for a while, but now it’s a place for concerts and a museum. Very cool building with lots of history.”

Maddie’s narrowed eyes dart to me. “A castle-turned-monastery-turned music hall? That sounds, like, way too good to me true.”

“It’s not very glamorous, this place,” Rafa says. “It is a bit…how do you say? A bit hidden, not very many tourists go there. But it might be the perfect place for your thesis, because Javier knows a girl who works at the monastery. And his band, it will play there, too.”

“Holy shit,” Maddie says, setting down her empty cup. “That’d be amazing. Honestly, the further off the beaten path, the better. A unique spot like that could really make my thesis stand out.”

“Javier, he is going there today,” Rafa says. “He could take you, make some introductions. Maybe you could explore the architecture too.”

“Really?” Maddie says. “You’d really take me with you?”

I feel Maddie’s eyes on me, but I focus my glare on Rafa. He’s killing me today. “Sure,” I grind out. “No problem.”

It’s a big fucking problem, actually, but what the hell am I supposed to say? I don’t want to be rude.

I also don’t want to ruin my meeting with Carmen. It’s really important I’m on point today. And with Maddie in tow, chances are I’ll be more than a little distracted.

All I wanted today was some quality time with my band and a flirty one-on-one with Carmen. But the flirting isn’t going to happen if Maddie is there. She’s too…distracting.

“Are you sure?” Maddie says.

“Yeah.” I tug a hand through my hair and offer her a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m sure. The monastery’s a pretty special place.”

“I can’t wait to see it. Seriously, I haven’t been this pumped in a long time.” she says. Her features soften in genuine gratitude. She really is a pretty girl. “Thank you, Javier, for offering to take me. I appreciate it. A lot.”

“Sure,” I say, wondering if she noticed that I didn’t offer. Not at all.

“How great is this, Viv? All these months of research and I finally have a lead.” Maddie claps her hands. “But first, I need more caffeine.”

“More?” I ask. “That latte would bring the dead back to life. They make them strong here.”

Maddie looks away as she digs her wallet out of her purse. “I’m so sleep deprived I could drink, like, a bath tub of coffee and still feel sluggish. Should I get it to go? Do they even
have
coffee to go here?”

Taking your coffee to go is a relatively new concept in Spain. We’re big believers in sitting down to enjoy a meal, whether it’s a quick espresso and croissant in the morning or ten rounds of tapas and vino de la casa—the house wine—at a restaurant at night. Meals are never rushed, and they are usually shared with people you love—friends, family, significant others. It’s one of the things I missed most while I was on the road. Who wants to slurp a lukewarm latte from a paper cup while running off to work in the morning? Call me old school, but I find that idea a bit depressing.