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 ofspecial companyand requested they try to fit in it together.
She was growing quite fond of herspecial companytests. 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 improvementover 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 recordingtheir 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 thesespecial companytests. 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.Theywere 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.”
