Page 59 of My Spanish Love Affair

“You don’t have to be scared, Olivia.”

The words hit me harder than I expect, and suddenly the tension shifts. It’s not broken, exactly; but it has softened.

Diffused, even.

“And, I want you to know that I mean it when I say you’re worth waiting for,” he says. “But honestly... I really hope I don’t have to wait too long.”

The admission catches me off guard. Before I can find a way to respond, he shifts again, lying back on the blanket with his arms folded behind his head.

“Now, are we going to talk all night, or are you going to help me find constellations?”

I roll my eyes, but I push back beside him all the same.

“You don’t actually know any constellations, do you?”

“Not a single one,” he admits. “But I’m excellent at making up stories about them.”

And he does. He weaves ridiculous tales about the stars above us, calling their names out in Spanish, and I feel a strange sense of peace settle over me.

Just as I begin to relax, he turns to face me again, propping himself up on one elbow. I arch a brow as I blink up at his handsome face.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says.

His shift in tone catches my attention. “Oh?” I say. “About what?”

“I don’t know if I’ve made it clear enough, but I admire you so much, Olivia. You’re brave, and smart, and stubborn -”

“Hey!” I cut in playfully.

“And you make me want to be better,” he continues, grinning at my interruption. “I don’t want it to sound like one of theselines you like to tell me I use, because I mean it when I say that I have never felt like this before. Honestly. Being with you, it’s not just easy. It’s...right. Like it’s the way things are supposed to be.”

My chest tightens, his words settling into places I didn’t realise were empty.

“I don’t want to just see where this goes anymore,” he says. “I want us to be something.Officially. So, Olivia Bennett, I was wondering. Will you be my girlfriend?”

For a moment, I can’t speak. All I can do is look at him.

And then I nod rapidly.

“Yes,” I whisper, a smile breaking across my face. “Yes, I - of course I will.”

He leans down to press a firm kiss to my lips.

Beneath me, the coarse texture of the sand presses against my hands as I brace myself, and one of Santi’s hands moves to cup my face, his thumb brushing tenderly over the swell of my cheek. His other hand finds purchase on my waist, and I use my grip on his shirt to pull him closer until there’s barely an inch of space between our bodies.

I can feel the strength of him - his chest solid against mine, his fingers pressing into my side - as if he’s afraid I might slip away.

Not likely.

My hands move on autopilot up to his broad shoulders before my fingertips graze the back of his neck. Our kiss deepens, his lips moving against mine with a heady mix of urgency and restraint, and I can tell that he’s holding himself back from giving in completely.

It’s not rushed, though. It’s deliberate, each movement measured as though he’s savouring every second.

Santi’s teeth catch my bottom lip in a sharp nip that sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I can’t hold back from gasping as the sensation goes right to my core.

The sound seems to undo something in him.

He leans further into me, and my legs part instinctively around him as his weight shifts until his jean-covered cock presses right against my panties.

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