“Stop worrying. I can sleep on the floor if it makes you that uncomfortable.” Aaron looked at me, eyebrows creased.

“I’m not worried,” I lied.

Sharing a bed with Aaron was something I hadn’t expected. Or planned for. My parents had said only we would be staying in the apartment. Most of the guests were from the region, and the ones who weren’t would be arriving only for the big day.

“We are adults, and we have known each other for almost two years now. We can be civil and share the bed. At least it’s a double. And it’s standing up.”

“I’ll tell your parents that I will take care of the other one. I’ll pay for the damages.” There was something in his voice. He sounded pensive and almost … embarrassed?

“You don’t have to, Aaron.” And I meant it. “It wasn’t your fault. The bed had lasted more than it should have, really. These things … happen.”

Grabbing a couple of shirts off my suitcase and unfolding them, I pondered my own words. Never in my life had I witnessed that firsthand, but hey, these things did happen. Maybe to Aaron they had. Maybe he had destroyed dozens of beds. Reducing them to a mess of wood and springs. He was a large man, one who was built too. Beds could very well give out and burst under his weight. Maybe if he moved around too much. Or if he dropped his body on them with certain force. Or if he engaged in activities that tested the resistance of the frame and springs and—

No, no, no. I kicked out of my head that image of a sweaty and naked Aaron doing—

No.

“Okay,” Aaron said, zipping closed his emptied suitcase. “And if you are sure we can share the bed, then we will. With a little luck, this one won’t shatter too.”

A whole new mental image ambushed me. One very similar but that now included me and—

Nope. I needed to stop this nonsense.

“It’s settled then,” I said, getting rid of those unwanted thoughts and ideas. “No sleeping on the floor. We can’t risk getting caught, having Charo around. Couples share beds.”

“And we would get caught exactly how? Does your cousin go around, entering bedrooms she doesn’t sleep in?”

“Well, Aaron, I really wish I could tell you she didn’t, but I would be lying.”

Years had taught me that Charo was unpredictable.

“So”—I changed the subject—“in a couple of hours, we will be meeting the youngest members of the Martín clan for phase one of the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party.”

“A little briefing, please?” he queried. Aaron had finished unpacking—which I hadn’t—so he leaned his back on the wardrobe that was in the corner of the room and gave me his full attention.

“You’ll be delighted to hear that we will spend the day outside, enjoying the warmth of the Spanish sun on our skin and doing something that has nothing to do with sipping mimosas and getting massages. Which was my idea.” I walked to the narrow dresser and grabbed a neat stack of towels. “My maid-of-honor duties were overruled by one of my youngest cousins, Gabi.” I placed the towels on the comforter. “And that means only one thing.” I paused dramatically. “The Wedding Cup.”

“The Wedding Cup?” A chuckle left Aaron’s lips.

Strangely, that little noise made me want to smile. I ignored it and gave him a rundown of how we’d be occupying our day instead.

“In the Wedding Cup”—I sighed—“Team Bride, which is composed of all the females invited to the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party, competes against Team Groom, which will be composed of the male ones.” I said that last part with sarcasm. “Real refreshing, huh? Boys against girls, competing in a series of games and activities. Yay.”

Aaron nodded, not taking any side. “I can tell, you are very excited. But please continue.”

I sent him a look. “The team that collects more points will secure the win and obtain the Wedding Cup.”

“And is this cup a physical trophy or just a symbolic reward?” Aaron asked, and I could tell he was trying to take this seriously. Unsuccessfully. He could barely contain his amusement.

“Listen”—my arms went to my hips in an attempt to make myself look imposing—“I told you I was not in control of this. I am more of a representative maid of honor. My cousin Gabi is one of those fitness-obsessed people, and she organized the whole thing. So, just be glad that you are not stuck with me on your team.” Picking up my toiletry and makeup bags, I walked to the modest en suite bathroom as I kept absently filling Aaron in while I placed all my things on the narrow space available. “I am not happy about this, okay? If it were for me, we would be at a spa while you guys went somewhere to do … guy stuff.”

“Guy stuff?” I heard Aaron’s voice coming from the bedroom.

“Yeah, punch your chests, drink beer like it’s the end of your lives, or go to a strip club. What do I know?” I shook my head, knowing I was being a little too stereotypical. “But no,” I continued, placing a travel-sized container of shampoo on the counter. “We couldn’t be so lucky. Funny enough, the one on board with this thing is Gonzalo. Who would have thought? A stupid competition over enjoying his last day as a bachelor away from his bride. Not that I’m shocked. Gonzalo has been crazy about my sister since the moment he laid eyes on her. So, why would he want to spend a day away from her?”

What they had was the real stuff. Honest, devoted, palpable love. The one that transcended distance, differences, and obstacles. The kind that was meant to be written about in books. Thinking of it filled my chest with warmth and longing for something I didn’t know I’d ever be able to find.

“Anyway, Gonzalo is the Wedding Cup’s biggest cheerleader. And something tells me, he’ll be more than thrilled when he sees you. He’ll holler and bro-hug you, and you’ll be his new best friend. I can tell. Gon is so competitive, always has been, so he’ll be over the moon to have the closest thing to a freaking Greek god on his team. Straight out of Olympia.” I snorted.

Aaron did look a little like one of those sculptures. All stoic with smooth and symmetrical lines. Gonzalo would love Aaron on the—

Hold up.

What did I just say?

My eyes closed at the realization that I had called Aaron a god. A Greek one. Out of Olympia. Out loud.

Oh, please, bathroom walls, be thick and soundproof. Please.

Sensing his presence somewhere behind me and considering the dimensions of both the room and en suite, I remained very still.

I opened my eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror in front of me.

Aaron was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

Inhaling a deep breath, I let my eyes travel around the counter, taking in everything and making my way up until finding Aaron’s gaze on the mirror.

“Chances of you not hearing me from the bedroom?” I ventured.

“It depends.” I watched his throat work, swallowing. “How good of hearing do Greek gods have?”

I had two options: own it like the grown-up woman I was, or ignore this had just happened and be a total chickenshit.

Rearranging every item I had just placed on the shelf in silence, I opted for the latter, all the while feeling his gaze following my every move.

A moment later, I sensed Aaron turn around, but before he walked away, I called for him, “Oh, and, Aaron?” I watched the reflection of his back in the mirror. “The losing team has to perform a choreographed dance tonight.”

No answer came from him, but when he finally took a step away, I could perfectly imagine the competitive gleam coming alive in his eyes.

Chapter Sixteen

I stood with my hands on my hips, getting a little lost in the palette of blues and greens that painted the view before me.

When people thought of Spain, they thought of jammed beaches under the merciless summer sun. They thought of tables loaded with jars of sangría, pans stuffed with paella, and a payload of tapas. They most likely thought of some dark-haired dude serenading the evening with impossibly masterful fingers stringing a guitar too. And in a way, they were not completely wrong. One could find that in Spain. But it was only a small part of what represented my home country. One that sadly didn’t even cover ten percent of what it offered.