Page 75 of Sol
Dropping to a plank position, he started doing push-ups. Easily. The muscles in his arms pushed and flexed. His shoulder blades met in his back, vigorous andbold.
“How many of those are you gonna do?” Iasked.
“Alot.”
After seemingly doing a hundred of them, he bounced up, wiped off his hands, and started pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, animatedly pointing at the bullring. “It’s not for you to complain about sitting in the sun if you buy a ticket there. You’re the one who chose that course ofaction.”
I latched on to what he was talking about. “But sometimes things happen to us that we don’t plan on. Sometimes the Universe has greater plans for us than we evenknow.”
Gazing down at me, he said, “I agree. But you can still decide which ticket to buy, and how you’re gonna react.” He touched my nose. “You, Dani, you’re always buying a ticket in the sun. You want to experienceeverything.”
“Ido.”
“I think I accidentally bought one in the shade, and I want arefund.”
A flutter in my belly rose up, making me whisper, “I’ll share my seat in the sun with you. You can have it, and I’ll sit on yourlap.”
He bent down and kissed me. “Thanks.”
We stared at the entrance, which had the ripped remnants of old bullfighting advertisements plastered to the side. “Want to keep going?” I asked. But no, he was still fascinated by thebullring.
“In a minute. What do you think of bullfighting? Do you think it’s barbaric? Killing an animal forsport?”
“No. I don’t. I think it’s just part of Spanish culture. Who am I to judge? I’m an outsider. I know there are plenty of critics in Spain, especially among the younger generation. But I don’t feel like that’s up tome.”
His mouth fell open. “I figured you’d be campaigning against it. Animal cruelty orsomething.”
“True. I’m not a fan, but I don’t have to go. I guess I forgive the Spanish for beingSpanish.”
“You allow them to bethemselves?”
“Yeah.”
And I wished that I could forgive myself for being myself. For my last words toDegan.
But those weren’t something you couldforgive.
The sun in our eyes, the warm breeze on our skin, and sweat dripping down our backs, we stood in front of the bullring a moment more. Then he turned to me and asked, “You still have barks inyou?”
“Yep.”
“Then let’s keepgoing.”
* * *
Trent pressedme against the shower wall as he thrust into me, water inundating our bodies, mouth ravaging mine. My legs circled his torso, and I held on tight. We joined in union in his little bathroom down the hall, after we snuck down separately so that no one would seeus.
“Don’t ever stop fucking me,” I breathed. “Don’t.Stop.”
But it was more than fucking. It was asserting that I was his. That he was living, now. That he wanted to experience everything.Everything. He wasn’t wasting time. He wasn’t hiding in the shade. And while ironically we had to tiptoe into the room, he was saying it loud and clear: we were together. He demanded it. And I demanded it rightback.
My mouth latched onto his shoulder. One hand of his under my ass propped me up, supported by the wall. The other hand circled my nipple, as he filled me up from the inside, infinite pleasure, all the attention of the cosmos here.Now.
Water washing off sweat. Bodies linking. And finding eachother.
I came so hard I lost all sense of time, my body quivering with the release. He followed soon after, licking my lips, holding me up, and then washing meclean.
That night I slept at his hostel in his twin bed, so connected that we wereone.
