The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

from Aaron. Before I did something stupid. Or reckless. Something like
almost kissing him.
A low groan climbed up my throat, and I had no other choice but to
muffle it with my hand. The sudden motion made the mattress bounce under
me.
Shit.
Aaron stretched beside me.
Don’t wake up, please. Please, universe. God. Anyone. I just need a
couple of minutes to gather myself before I have to face him.
I felt Aaron’s body settle back, his breathing remaining deep and
constant.
Returning my hand back to my side—very fucking slowly—I thanked the
universe for listening to me this one time and promised I’d make up for it. I’d
go to church with Abuela next time I came home, I swore.
I was being a complete chicken, but I wanted a few minutes to myself.
Just so I could appease everything that kept darting through my mind. To
make peace with it and move on like nothing had ever happened. Also, to
hunt down a painkiller and kill the throbbing in my head. Coffee would be
good too.
And the first step was getting the hell out of this bed—from under the
arm I had desperately been gripping for dear life only a few hours ago—as
fast and as quietly as I possibly could before Aaron’s eyes opened and found
me losing my shit.
Lifting Aaron’s heavy limb as delicately and slowly as I could, I rolled to
the side, right to the edge of the bed, and then I deposited his muscular body
part back on the comforter. Aaron moved, turning on his back and lifting that
arm that had been on top of me so it rested behind his head.
That position caused his biceps to flex and look all big and delectable and
—
Jesus Christ, Catalina.
Pulling my eyes off the man on the bed, I moved through the room on my
tiptoes. I made my way out and closed the door behind me. My head fell on
the wooden surface, and my eyes closed.
“Vaya, vaya. Mira quién ha amanecido,” a high-pitched voice welcomed
me from outside the kitchen. “Buenos días, prima.”
The blood in my body froze.
I couldn’t catch a freaking break.