Page 60 of Moonstruck at Midnight
“Oh, I have all night.” He played along, laying back on the sunbed beside me with his arms behind his neck.
“No, you’re right. I could use some sleep.”
He extended his hand, looking at the earphones. I unraveled the cable and gave one to him.
“Okay, one last song on shuffle, and then we leave. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I shuffled the songs folder in my iPod, andUna Furtiva Lagrimafrom the OperaL’Elisir d’Amorestarted playing. He looked at me with wide eyes and a slight grimace.
“Is this opera?” He sounded surprised. I gestured for him to stop talking and listen to the song instead. “Hmm. So bossy.” He gave me a lopsided smile and kept silent afterward, looking up at the sky.
Four and a half minutes later, he handed me back the earphone, and I rolled the cable around the iPod.
“It felt like a sorrowful song, but I guess all operas are tragic like that,” he said.
“No, no, no. Elixir of Love is anything but tragic. Nemorino just took a ‘love potion’”—I air quoted—“because he’s in love with Adina, and he desperately wants his love to be reciprocated. But little does he know, the love potion is cheap red wine.” I chuckled.
“He then stops talking to her, waiting for the potion’s effect to kick in. And Adina wonders why he’s not talking to her anymore, and his silence does the trick. Not the cheap wine, of course.” I smiled, and he smiled back. “This is one of those few operas with a happy ending, and that’s why I love it.”
“Hmm. I guess it’s interesting once you know what the story is about. Have you seen this opera?”
I stood up and replied as we both slowly made our way to the rooftop access door. “I have, once, in Vienna—four years ago. My father was invited to the event, and I went with him. Rolando Villazón, who played Nemorino, finished the aria we just heard, and people gave him a prolonged standing ovation. And you’re talking about Austria. It’s—a tough crowd. The orchestra couldn’t continue playing because the clapping and cheers overpowered it. So, he did an encore. It was exciting to witness that. It must be an incredible feeling to get that recognition as an artist.”
He brushed a strand of hair off his forehead and said, “You’re full of surprises, Guille.”
“And you must be bored to death, let’s go, you have a party or”—I looked at my watch to make a point—“afterparty to get to.”
“Hopefully, everyone will be gone by the time I return,” he said as we walked down the flight of stairs to the fourteenth floor.
“Yeah, right.” I wasn’t going to buy that.
He offered to walk me back to my apartment, and I agreed this time.
“You’re a good neighbor,” I said.
He laughed.
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of good reviews. I’ve only gottenonecomplaint.” He lifted his index finger and poked my nose with it. “But I’m working on getting it resolved right away.”
“Do you want to hug it out?” I smiled. He listened to me when I needed it most and stayed when he could’ve easily left to carry on with his party. I wanted to thank him and start over.
He took a step forward, hugged me for a few seconds, and then slowly kissed both of my cheeks. I felt my face warming up into an inevitable blush.
Why do you have to smell so good?
The way he hugged me felt all kinds of—interesting. Like he really meant it. Protective even. And those kisses weren’t the casual check-on-cheek type of kisses. I could feel the warmth of his lips on my face when he did it. And the shamelessmwahsound in the end after each kiss …God help me.
“That’s how you do it, right?” He teased. “I’m only respectful of your customs. And your cheeks look delicious in that color.”Damn it! My face had probably gone into a not-delicious-anymore-neon-red flush after his remark.
He grabbed my ponytail and pulled on the hair tie. “I like your hair down,” he said with that deep voice of his.
“Hey!” I protested. His fingers teased my hair to make it fall beside my face. I swallowed, feeling how my breathing got a little faster.Please,stop.But his fingers felt great in my hair, and I was paralyzed, so I just stared at him while he took his time doing it.
But I eventually took a few steps back to make him stop.
“That’s mine,” I said, faking self-confidence, putting my hand out for him to give me my hair tie back, but he placed it around his wrist.
“The day you unblock me, I’ll give it back.” He pulled at the tie and let it snap on his wrist.
