Page 59 of Tough Call

“Anyway,” he said. “We’ll relax today. Have dinner. Then tomorrow or the next day—whenever you’re ready—we’re off to Sevilla.”

“Perfect. It’ll be nice to settle in.” I winked. “And, you know, get reacquainted.”

He bit his lip and squirmed, and I might’ve liked that a little too much. “We’re going to have a ton of time to get reacquainted.”

“Mmhmm. We are.” I sipped my coffee. “And your knee is really doing better? Or do I need to be on top?”

Madars shifted in his chair. “You can be on top all you want. Be my guest. But yes…” He flexed and straightened his leg beside the table as if to demonstrate. “Like I said, I’ve been skating for weeks. It still aches sometimes, but I’ll be able to start practices with my team like normal. Which means I won’t have any trouble keeping up with you.”

Fucking hell. Why did I have to be too tired to function today? Because I wanted this man so damn bad.

For a fleeting second, I considered suggesting we mess around tonight anyway, but I let that thought go. I wanted to be well-rested and fully present; going through the motions of sex when I was this tired would not be nearly as enjoyable as I wanted it to be.

One more night. One more goddamned night, and when we got to our villa tomorrow, we were putting the furniture to the test.

“Connor?” Madars tilted his head, eying me curiously. “You’re blushing.”

“Am I? I, uh…” I cleared my throat as I shifted in my chair. “Just… thinking about all the ways I’m going to help you keep up your leg strength this summer.”

It was his turn to shiver. Fuuuck, I wanted him. And from the hunger smoldering in his eyes…

“Good thing I brought plenty of lube,” he whispered. “Pretty sure we’ll need it.”

“Mmhmm. We will.” I grimaced. “I wish I could say we’d need it tonight, but I’m⁠—”

“Connor.” He shook his head as he covered my hand with his beside my coffee cup. “We have most of the summer. I know how miserable it is to be that jetlagged.” He smiled sweetly. “I can wait. I promise.”

“I know. I’m just not sure I can.”

He chuckled and patted my hand, then went for his wine again. “Well, if you feel feisty on the train tomorrow…”

I snorted. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Madars just laughed.

And jetlag be damned, I was so, so glad I was here.

CHAPTER 19

MADARS

After a blissfully perfect night of sleeping in the same bed, Connor and I ordered room service for breakfast. We lounged for a while, enjoying some good food and even better coffee. Then we packed our things and took a cab to Atocha, the main train station in Madrid. There, I got us tickets on the next train to Sevilla, and an hour or so later, we boarded.

With Connor’s suitcases in the luggage rack and both of our smaller bags on the shelf above our heads, we settled into our seats.

“I have no idea what coach is like,” he said on a happy groan, “but I’m really glad you shelled out for business class.”

I laughed. “Eh, it’s not much different from coach on this train. Seats are a little bigger and there’s a little more leg room, but it’s not fancy. Now, the bullet train between Madrid and Barcelona?” I whistled. “That is some bougie first class.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? So are you treating me to a luxury bullet train ride while we’re here?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “We’ll see how you behave.”

Connor scoffed and kicked me gently. “You’re such an ass.”

“Fine. Coach tickets it is.”

He gave me the finger, and we both chuckled.