The presentations were made by the Spaniards. My group consisted of me, Tyler (ugh), Jorge, and Eduardo, with me and Tyler only helping the others with their presentations that they’d have to give to everyone. Though they were encouraged to give presentations that had something to do with their job, they really had free reign to do anything, and Eduardo took advantage of that, trying to model his after the Cosmo sex quiz we did together.

His was called, “What kind of Las Palabras Spaniard are you?” and his presentation was pretty much going through the quiz and explaining to the audience how it worked. There was the “Sex Pest,” and he proudly said he fell into that category, the “Noisy Know-It-All,” the “Secretly Fluent One,” the “Butt Kisser,” the “Drunk Animal,” the “Caffeinated Crazy,” the “Anglo Challenged,” and the “Celebrity,” which I assumed was someone like Mateo. When I did the quiz, I got “Sex Pest,” too. Wish I could say it had been rigged.

Because each Spaniard was doing a four to five minute presentation, that meant we were held hostage in the rec room for nearly two hours. As much as I loved my Spanish friends, some of them were so damn boring that by the end I was falling asleep in my chair.

That was until I saw the second to last presentation: Mateo’s. I hadn’t really talked to him about it, you know, because of the sex happening and all that, so I had no idea what his was all about.

Lo and behold, I was shocked to pieces when he wiped the whiteboard on the wall clean and started pointing to people in the audience and asking them to name a constellation. Beatriz named Virgo, and he drew the exact stars for Virgo, including the lines connecting them. Angel named the Big Dipper and Mateo drew that. Ed told him to draw Orion, which was more complicated than you would think, and Mateo somehow drew it perfectly down to the arms that no one pays much attention to. As he drew, he told us about the stories behind each one of them, the actual myths behind their being. When he got to Leo, he started off by repeating my Lambert the Sheepish Lion story, before he chuckled to himself and quickly told the right one.

When he was all done, he put the marker down and faced us all, hands behind his back.

“For as long as man has been around, he has felt governed by the stars,” he said in a rich, teacher-like voice, making deep eye contact with everyone like a pro. “But I do not believe this to be true. The stars may place us in each other’s paths—I dare say that everyone here has been a victim of some sort of celestial fate. Perhaps we were all fated to meet, to be here with each other, but it is up to us to decide to shine or not. The stars are not unreachable. They are not untouchable. And they do not control us. I just took the concept of stars and made them my own.” He swung his arm, gesturing to the star-studded wall. “I just created my own universe in this room here. When we all part ways, I invite you all to do the same. Design your own universe, make your own stars, write your own stories, and create your own destiny.”

I was so stunned by what he had done, the knowledge he must have soaked up, the practice he would have had, that it took me a moment to notice that he had walked off the stage and everyone else had started clapping.

I snapped out of it. I stood up and started clapping really loud, trying to encourage more applause. I was met with a few curious stares. I guess people weren’t as moved as I was by the whole thing, but it didn’t matter. And as I saw Mateo take his seat a few rows ahead of me, I could have sworn his face had gone red, adorably embarrassed.

When it was all over and the last presentation was done, I pulled him aside, so close to reaching up and pulling his head down into a kiss. Somehow, I managed to refrain by digging my fingers into his arm.

“That was amazing,” I gushed, conscious of everyone walking past us, probably heading right to the bar.

He gave me a satisfied smile. “I am glad you thought so.”

“Where did you learn all of those?”

“I found a National Geographic in the stacks of magazines in the lobby,” he said. “I guess I wanted to impress you. Again. In a less painful way this time.”

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “Well, you did impress me. Both times.”

And hours ago, in the field, when you gave me the best sex of my life, I thought. I would have told him that if it wasn’t for Wayne who was hanging around in the background.

I looked over at Wayne and he gave me a sheepish smile. “So sorry to interrupt. Mateo! I thought perhaps we could finish what we started earlier.” He glanced at me. “Boring business stuff. You don’t mind, Vera?”

Of course, I fucking minded. The day was finally over and I had a million things I wanted to say and do to Mateo while I still had the chance to do them.

I could see Mateo was worried from the faint lines on his forehead, trying to figure out a way to either tell Wayne yes or tell Wayne no.

I sighed and put my hand on Mateo’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. I would make the decision for him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

His face fell, a look of being totally defenseless.

If Wayne noticed it, he didn’t care. “Thanks, Vera,” he said in his drawl.

I gave him a tight smile and hurried out of there and down the staircase of doom. Though everyone was in the bar listening to music, dancing, and laughing it up like there was no tomorrow, I decided I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fake it. I went straight home, crawled into my boy shorts and tee, and slid right into my bed.

There was a tomorrow. And it was coming fast.

I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling, the occasional laugh or note of music coming in through my open window. Moonlight dappled the walls and bathed the room in a cool grey blue. Too many feelings were making their way up through me, like tiny insects you couldn’t swat away. I hated that this was almost my last night in this bed, in this room that I had started to call my own. I was afraid of what life outside of Spain meant for me, what would happen when I got home, how I was going to keep feeling the life I had felt here when I would be so far away. I was jealous that Claudia and Ricardo had a chance to be together. I was lonely because I was lying in bed by myself and I knew that this was only the start of many more lonely nights.

And I was angry. I was angry, both that I had fallen for Mateo, and that I had fallen for him so late in the game. I was angry at how unfair life was, how it could present me a man that I felt a deep-souled connection to, but could never have him be fully available to me. I didn’t care what Mateo said about wanting to be with me. It could not happen and he was only trying to fool himself in thinking so. If he let himself realize how impossible it really was, he would feel this angry too.

I don’t know how long I lay there, letting the feelings bite and nibble at me until I was totally numb, but it was long enough to hear the party die down. And then to hear a knock at the front door.

I got up and cautiously opened my door, poking my head out, half expecting to see a party formed in my living room again. Instead there was only Sara in her robe, opening the door to reveal Mateo on the other side, shadowed in the night.

“I am sorry,” he apologized to her, though his eyes were already on me. “I came here to speak with Vera.”

Sara looked at me for my response, not saying anything. I gave her an imperceptible nod. She smiled weakly at the both of us and retreated back to her room.

I should have felt bad for him waking her up like that, but I’d never been so happy to see someone in my life. I stood in my doorway, my hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation as Mateo shut the door behind him. He was at me in five large strides. My heart felt like it had dropped five stories.

I slowed my nerves and stepped back from the door, letting him walk inside my room. I turned around to close it, and before I knew it, his hands were in my hair and around my waist, my body pressed up against his, his mouth hungry and seeking mine.

“Vera,” he growled into my mouth, his lips hot and tasting like cinnamon. “I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said breathlessly, an understatement, my head falling back as he started to suck down my neck. His hands were under my shirt, cupping my breasts and feeling the weight of them, his thumbs rolling over my nipples, over and over again until the pressure between my legs was at capacity.

“I’m so fucking wet for you,” I told him, licking his ear. I wasn’t sure if he was one for dirty talk but I thought I’d try him out.

He didn’t even flinch. “Let me have a taste.”

He pulled my t-shirt over my head then let his thick tongue trail down my chest, over my breasts, down the center of my stomach. He got to his knees and, in the reverse of yesterday, pulled my booty shorts down until they were around my ankles and threw them across the room. He picked up my right leg and placed it on his shoulder. As I put one hand against the door for balance and one hand in his hair, he worked his tongue between my legs, slowly licking the insides of my thighs, teasing me. His beard was gorgeously rough against my sensitive skin, my nerves dancing at the abrasion.

Finally his tongue found me, just as wet as I told him. He lapped me up, his hunger still not satisfied. I was seconds away from coming when he pulled away. I stared down at his dark eyes at they burned up at me, his mouth glistening in the cool light.

“I want to get in deeper,” he said, his gaze not breaking mine. He got to his feet and then put his arms under my thighs and back, lifting me up into his arms. I let out a little squeal as he walked across the moonlit room and threw me onto the bed.