The Rain in Spain Read Free Page B

neck. She froze. The rattle of the rain pouring down was almost louder than her heartbeat thumping in her ears.
    He dropped his hand and walked out into the rain.
    If she’d been dying to save that hat, she’d have run through the rain, skidding to a halt at her tiny table to snag it, and then raced back to the awning.
    Javi walked, his white shirt translucent, his cream pants getting darker. Water ran off his fingers and the ends of his hair and splashed up from each step. Across the roof and then back, the wide brim of her hat clutched in one large hand. He stared at her all the long walk back that seemed to last for an hour, until suddenly he was right there in front of her, and he didn’t stop walking until she was pressed up against the plastered-over brick of the entryway, his body against hers. His mouth fell on her like the rain.
    She braced her hands against his shoulders, so much wider than her own, and pushed. But somehow her push was a pull and her mouth opened under him, his teeth scraping against hers as he dove in, hand tangled in her hair, and he groaned into her mouth as she straddled his thick thigh and rocked her hips against him. His tongue in her mouth was desperate, tangling with hers, his breath harsh and hot. She dug her nails into his shoulders until he tensed and she knew she’d hurt him.
    Wet fabric dragged over her skin as his hand slid up her thigh and she shivered, though it was still too hot for her to be cold. Tearing her mouth away from his, she pushed her head back against the wall.
    They stared at each other, chests bumping as they breathed hard, rain streaming off the edge of the awning on all three sides around their tiny square of shelter.
    Javi’s fingers relaxed, letting her thigh drop. The wet fabric of his pants scraped against the inside of her knee as her leg slid back down to the ground. The wall beneath her shoulder blades was rough with the smeared curves of plaster.
    Her hat was crushed between them. She slid a hand in close, touching nothing, until she pinched the brim between her fingertips. Javi stepped away, still looming over her, back to the rain, blocking most of the water that managed to get in under the awning. He always made her feel tiny, delicate, which was funny. Average height, average weight, legs built for miles of long, wandering walks, arms and back strong enough to carry her own pack, all her baggage. She’d never felt as girlie as she did around Javi’s carefully cultivated brawn. He wasn’t vain about his body. It was a tool he’d honed, for reasons she thought she mostly understood. But he overwhelmed her with his physicality, so oddly balanced with his cold, cerebral approach to the world.
    Right now, she could see the dark shadows of the hair on his chest through the wet shirt and wanted to put her hands on him, palms over his shirt pockets, and see if she could trace his muscles through the layers of cotton. Clutching her hat with both hands seemed like a better idea.
    He took another backwards step, until the rain had to be pelting him again. She pushed away from the wall. Shakily.
    He pushed his hair back once, then again. She tugged the hem of her sundress back down and held her hat against her chest. They stared at each other.
    When the door swung open, they jumped. The kid stuck his head out and scanned the patio, grumbling and giving them the stink-eye when he spotted their glasses abandoned on the table.
    “ Lo siento .” I’m sorry. She hated being rude in a foreign country.
    She didn’t know if the rain was letting up or if the kid just ran like the wind, but his clothes were far drier than theirs when he skidded to a halt back under the awning, fingers plunged into their drinks to hold the glasses. He glanced at them and grimaced, lifting the glasses.
    “ No te preocupes .” Don’t worry . Javi handed him a tangerine ten euro bill and the kid grinned.
    Yes, they were Americans. Enjoy it, kid.
    He held the door open for them, and