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The American Roommate Experiment (Spanish Love Deception #2)(112)

Author:Elena Armas

The taxi pulled up to the address Olly had texted, and I unclasped my fingers from Lucas’s grasp so fast that he couldn’t do anything to stop me from jumping out of the vehicle.

“Rosie, don’t!” He cursed. But I kept on walking. I was on autopilot.

His steps sounded behind me, quick, fast, as if he’d been running after me, and I felt like a jerk, because I shouldn’t have made Lucas run, not with his injury. But I—

He grabbed my hand and pulled at it, bringing me to a stop. He walked around me and faced me. “Don’t do that to me ever again, please.”

His hair was still wet. The clothes beneath both our coats were so damp, they weighed twice as much as they would have dry. He was probably feeling as cold as I did, and yet, I knew that wasn’t the reason why he looked so miserable.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, because I really was. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

I squeezed his hand and relief spread across his face.

With another sigh, I took note of our surroundings, the rumble of music in the distance indistinguishable. It had to be coming from the nightclub down the street, the one Olly had texted before. Pink Flamingo.

“Do you know this part of the city?” Lucas asked.

“Never been here.” I shook my head. “But it’s not exactly known for its good rep.” I paused. “There’s something I should probably tell you, Lucas.” He remained in silence, laser focused on me, waiting. “My brother… he had a black eye. A few weeks ago. And I…”

And I hadn’t done anything. Not a single thing. I’d let him walk away.

Lucas processed that information. Then, looked left and right. “Text him that we’re here. If he doesn’t answer, then we’re going to find him and get him out.”

I nodded my head, already inching toward the neon-lit entrance.

Lucas tugged at my hand. “You’re going to stay behind me, okay? I’m not playing overprotective hero, Rosie, but if someone tries to get close to you, don’t engage, yeah?” He patted his chest with his fist. “You stay with me.”

My throat worked. “But what if—”

“ángel,” he said almost painfully. “I’ve traveled, stumbled upon people I shouldn’t have and got into a few ugly messes myself. So please, please stay with me. Just trust me with—”

“Okay.” I nodded my head. No hesitation. “I trust you. I’ll stay with you. I won’t engage.” His features relaxed. “But only if you don’t, either. I don’t want you to get into trouble, not because of me.”

Something shifted in his gaze and then, without giving me any kind of warning, he was brushing a kiss on the corner of my lips. “I trust you, too, ángel.”

And just like that, we were moving again.

Lucas stopped a few steps away from the neon sign. A bouncer stood guard, the door covered by a maroon curtain.

I took one last look at my phone to see if Olly had answered my text. He hadn’t. “Let’s go,” I told Lucas.

We stepped forward, Lucas slightly ahead of me, and the bouncer looked us up and down with a frown.

“No couples allowed. Performers through the back.”

I stepped around Lucas, coming to his side so I could explain to the bouncer why we needed to go in. Both of us.

But the mountain of a man stopped me with a hand. “No couples allowed,” he repeated, before returning to his position and parting the curtain. “The lady can go in.” He pointed to Lucas. “You, out. Or through the back.”

“No,” Lucas refused. I took another step forward, and a warning left Lucas in a growl. “Rosie, please.”

I was ready to let go of his hand, to tell him that it was okay, when the curtain opened. Then, I heard my name.

“Rosie,” my brother, my little brother, said.

And he was… shirtless. Covered in what looked like… oil. And glitter.

I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Are you okay? Please, tell me you’re okay.”

Olly’s eyes darted around.

“I’m okay,” he croaked. “But we should really go, now.”

I released him, clasped my hands around his cheeks, and inspected his face. God, when had he turned into the man in front of me? “What the hell is going on, Olly?”

The bouncer spoke before Olly could respond. “Graham, you know the rules. No hanging out in the entrance. Performers through the goddamn back. You’ve got five seconds.”