Page 31 of The Last Sunrise

“Damn. Knew you were too good to be true.” Julián’s fingers are slowly tracing the line of my collarbone again. He stops and presses his open palm against my chest.

“You look absolutely stunning today. Why?” He moves closer, still gauging my rapidly beating heart.

I can barely speak; my tongue feels heavy and my brain like mashed potatoes. “I… I was supposed to have breakfast with my mom, but she was running late.” My eyes go wide, and I pull away. “Shit! What time is it? I can never tell if it’s been minutes or hours when you’re around,” I admit in my panic.

His smile says a million words. “What a compliment. It’s almost ten.”

I reach for my phone and check the screen. A missed call from my mom.

“Sorry, I need to call her really quick,” I whisper to Julián, who’s now cleaning up the bread massacre we’ve made on the table.

On the first ring she picks up, and without any type of greeting, she gets right to it. “Ry, I see you’re in the hotel but not your room.” Annoyance claws at me knowing that unless my phone is dead, she always has my location. I have hers, too, but I’ve never needed or wanted it. “We already ordered our food. What should I order you?”

“I actually just ate in the lobby. I can meet you guys in the restaurant in a few minutes. I’m finishing up with a friend.” I glance at Julián.

“The receptionist from the front desk?” my mother questions.

“No. A different one.” I decide not to lie. I’ll answer her questions later.

I hear ahmmmcome through the line and end the call swiftly.

“Sorry. She booked my whole day: breakfast here, some boat ride, a dinner…”

“Do you like boats?” Julián asks, intrigue in his voice.

I nod. “I love them. Haven’t been on one in a while, but we used to have one when I was a kid. But the busier my mom’s schedule got, the less time we had for it, so she sold it and I haven’t been on one in years.

“Do you know this one?” I pull my calendar out and click on the link to show him the name of the company my mom booked the tour through and the style of boat.

“That’s not a boat. That’s a yacht,” he corrects me. “You’re going to be so far from the water that it’s a waste of time and a lot of money. Unless you’re just going on to drink and shmooze with rich people and eat their fancy stale food.”

The embarrassment I feel is unwarranted. It’s not like I booked the huge yacht or spent the money, but he does have a point, now that I’m looking at how massive the size is.

“You won’t be able to put your hand in the water as you cruise or feel the waves of the sea at all. They’ll serve you overpriced food and champagne, but it’s not a true experience,” he goes on.

“Sorry, I’m being harsh about it.” He shrugs. “But these kinds of tourist traps make me so angry. Inauthenticity makes me so angry.” He tugs at the back of his neck with his hand.

“My bias toward it or not, I do want you to have a nice time. Maybe one day when you’re not booked up, I can give you the real Mallorca experience?”

I nod, desperately wanting that.

“You should go before you get in trouble,” he jokes. “Thank you for enjoying your morning with me. Now my workday will be much better after seeing you.”

The freckled spots of his brown eyes seem lighter today. Everything about him seems lighter today. He stands up to leave, and I tug on his hand from where I’m sitting on the couch.

“Thank you for coming here and bringing me food and coffee. It made my day.” I hold his hand in mine, turning it around, noting how much bigger it is than my own.

“Let’s see each other again soon, deal?” he asks, bending down face-to-face with me. I close my eyes in anticipation, and he double kisses my cheeks. “Adéu, Ry.”

“Deal.” I watch him leave, soaking in the words he said.

I was desperate to see you…

My feet dance under me and I pop up, energized and mesmerized. He’s enchanting and mysterious. Honest yet private, and though he just left, I’m already counting down to when I can see him again. I don’t remember the last time I felt this way about anything; not even my dance performances had me feeling as twirly inside as this man. I’m either about to have the summer I’ve been dreaming of, or this is going to end in a nightmare.

Chapter Twelve

My mom and Lena are mid-breakfast when I approach the table. The server rushes over to pull out the chair for me to sit down. I thank her and she hands me a menu. Politely, I take it, though I’m not hungry anymore. My mom tells her in Spanish that I’ve already eaten, and she apologizes, gently taking the menu away within seconds.

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