Almost as if he was ashamed, or didn’t want anything else to do with me.
I lay still for a moment, miserable, not sure what to do. When I hear him open the door, I spring into action. Even though I know the room service waiter can’t see me from there, around the corner of the small bathroom, the idea of someone else being in the room throws me into a panic. It would only take a few steps for him to enter and see me, and besides, I don’t know that I want Fernando to look at me like this anymore either. I gather my clothes quickly about myself, yanking my bra up to cover my breasts and nakedness. With my shirt pulled down over again, I feel at least a little less exposed, even if I haven't yet caught my breath.
I wait for Fernando to come back into the room, but even as he does I realize I can't bear to look at him. I don't want to see that expression on his face again, that blind panic. I don't want to see what he really thinks of me.
How stupid was I, to think that he would want me? I've known all along that I’m nothing more than the kid daughter of his old best friend, and nothing about that has changed. Why should I have thought that he would want me when I have reminded him once again about just how young I am in comparison to him?
He probably thinks I’m just a child. Someone not worth spending time with. I'm sure that he is going to come in now and tell me he’s heading home, so he doesn't have to go through with this anymore.
“The drinks,” he says, holding up a tray for me to see before he puts it down on the desk, by my souvenir bags. Another reminder. I’m only here as a tourist, not as someone he could seriously consider spending time with.
“Thanks,” I say, my cheeks burning. I manage to look at the drinks, but nothing else. “It’s… alright if you want to go.” I force myself to say it, trying to be the mature one here, trying to at least claw back a little dignity. Let him think that I’m fine with him leaving, instead of imagining some sobbing schoolgirl desperate for him to come back.
“Go?” Fernando reacts physically, turning towards me and throwing his hands out as if to reach for me – but then he holds back. “No – you don’t want me to go, do you?”
I bite my lip. “I don’t want to force you to stay.”
“Ay, no,” he says, coming back to the bed and sitting beside me. “I want to stay. I do.”
“But, what I just told you…” I start, wanting to point out his reaction and the obvious fact that he doesn’t want anything to do with me now.
“It changes nothing about how I feel,” Fernando says, reaching for my hand. “It only changes what I intend to do about it.”
I stare numbly at his hand. So, what does that mean? I get the consolation prize of knowing that he still likes me, even if he's never going to do anything about it? That doesn't seem like much of a comfort. “You’re not going to…”
He tilts his head at me. “Can’t you even say it?”
I stick my chin up in the air stubbornly and meet his eyes. I won’t have him going away from here thinking that I’m nothing more than a stupid little girl. “You’re not going to have sex with me.”
“I’m not going to have sex with you… right now.” Fernando’s mouth curves into a slightly wicked smile, one that sends tingles over my skin. “Your first time, it should be special. Really special. I want to do that for you.”
“I’m in Barcelona,” I protest. “What could be more special than that?”
Fernando glances around. “I mean no disrespect to the owners of the hotel, but I would say that a lot could be more special than this.”
I sigh. “So, what, then? You’re just going to go home and leave me here?”
“Did I say that?” Fernando raises an eyebrow. “No. I don’t want to leave just yet. I can give you something else. A little taste, perhaps.”
A taste? I sit up slightly. What does that mean?
“Do you trust me?” Fernando asks, and I take in his face. He looks earnest, but also wicked, and I can see that there is a bulge in the front of his pants that wasn’t there before we started making out.
I lick my lips. What do I have to lose, except the one thing he stated he doesn’t want to take from me?
“Yes,” I tell him.
That is all the go-ahead that Fernando seems to need. He leans forward immediately and begins to kiss me again, just as hot and feverish as before. It feels as though he’s trying to devour me whole, and I try my best to keep up with him in spite of my inexperience. I find myself leaning back against the bed once more without even realizing that he was pushing me, the heat of our kiss simply making me let go and turning me to jelly.