He shook his head and something that wasn’t really a laugh left him. “No, I’ll be your experiment partner.”
My breath caught in my throat. My stupid crush—the one I tried so hard to pretend wasn’t real—started banging against the bars of the cage I had shoved it in.
Silence, I commanded the loud screaming in my head. He has said we are friends. Numerous times.
I tried to summon a smile and failed. “You’ll be my experiment partner?”
He nodded, returning to his easygoing self. “It’s perfect if you think about it.” Perfect? In all honesty, I was having a hard time hearing my own thoughts through the thrumming in my temples. “You won’t have to download Tinder or whatever app those”—a tiny grimace curled his lips—“men came from.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Lucas continued, “It simplifies everything.”
The following two words left my lips in a breath. “What does?”
“Me, you, us doing this,” he answered with a confidence that had me wondering if he really was riding a sugar high. Or maybe I was. Because was Lucas Martín really suggesting we date—experimentally—in hopes I could find my writing muse? “You said you’d pick a man and go through the motions,” he pointed out. “Were you planning to tell the little guy about the experiment? The phases? The natural arc of connecting with someone?”
“You…” I swallowed. “You were listening.”
He smiled and I couldn’t miss how smug he looked in this moment. “You’re not the only one with good memory, Rosalyn Graham.” Something seemed to occur to him. “You never told me your pen name, by the way.”
“Rosalyn Sage,” I answered without thinking.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed as mine grew in size with realization. “Hold on,” he muttered.
Oh crap.
“You are the Rosalyn Sage?” His mouth formed an O, and even though it was the worst possible moment, I couldn’t help but think how much I liked his lips. They were full. Masculine. “You’re the Rosalyn Sage whose book I’ve been hearing my sister yell about nonstop for months? The book that is a permanent fixture on Charo’s coffee table? You—” He stopped himself.
“Yep.” I sighed. “That’s me.”
A grin split his face slowly, his lips stretching in this grand and magnificent way, as if Moses himself was parting the Red Sea.
With all the might I could summon, I ripped my gaze off his face. “Anyway, I hadn’t worked out the details yet, so I didn’t really know if I was going to be outright honest or just, I don’t know, go with the flow and hope for the best.” I frowned at how impractical all of this sounded. How… dishonest. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt if they found out I was using them, though.”
“Enter Lucas,” he quipped.
I looked up, finding his Moses grin staring right back at me. That smile was so… confident. Reassuring. Comforting. Like a safety net, just there, just in case you fell. “Lucas…” I trailed off, questioning my own sanity for actually considering his offer. “You don’t date. You’re not in the market for that. You said so yourself.”
“This is not dating; it’s experimental dating.”
“This is…” This was madness.
It isn’t, a greedy and reckless voice countered in my head. It’s a chance to get closer to him without needing an excuse. Before he leaves for good.
No.
I needed to be reasonable. “You’ll be in New York only for a few weeks,” I pointed out. Six to be exact. “I wouldn’t want you to spend your time doing this instead of whatever you had planned.”
Lucas looked down at his hands for a few seconds, then back at me. “That won’t be an issue, Rosie.”
I tilted my head, watching him closely and catching one of those shadows crossing his expression. “Don’t you want to continue exploring the city?”
“No.” A shake of his head. “I’m going to be honest with you, Rosie,” and the way his voice dropped had me holding my breath so I wouldn’t miss a word. “I’ve been traveling alone for six weeks. By choice, because it was something I thought I needed. But it has… backfired in a way I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t lying when I told you I was feeling lonely.” He shrugged a shoulder as if it was no big deal, as if it didn’t make me want to reach out and hold his hand. “So, you can say I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with, alone, and I’d welcome the company. And I know you’ve noticed, but”—he patted his right thigh—“I’m not exactly in the best shape for all this walking around.”