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wrapped his other arm around her waist, surrounding her with him, folding her up in his big arms, and dropped his chin on her shoulder, cheek pressed against her wet one, watching as she watched, listening as she listened, breathing slow and easy until her jerky, catching breaths slowed down and matched the rise of his chest against her back.
    The tenor sang and sang and laid her heart out on the floor for anyone to see and she cried until her nose was stuffed and her ears were hot and her eyes ached. Until her breath slowed and the tears stopped and she sat in this moment, fully in it and with Javi for once, not trailing behind him trying to absorb something he’d already sped by, or near him geographically but so very far away from him emotionally that they might as well have been on separate continents. Sometimes she felt closer to Javi when she was far away from him, because she knew then that he missed her and was thinking of her. She wondered if he imagined her as the sort of person he wished she would be, rather than who she was. If he wished she were someone more like him, solid and methodical, dependable and steadfast. Steadfast . That was the word for Javi. The one who would hold fast.
    She wondered if he wished she were more like that.
    It was time to ask.
    The silence when the song ended lingered for seconds, as if everyone in the room were holding still to draw out the moment, unwilling for it to end. The applause that followed was enthusiastic but quiet, sustaining the moment still further. Javi’s arms loosened after another minute and his chest expanded with a deep inhale.
    Before he could say a word, she slid out of his grasp, nodded and mouthed gracias to the bartender, and linked her fingers with Javi’s, leaving the bar without saying a word. As if he sensed her need for quiet, to hold the spell for as long as she could, Javi stayed silent next to her.
    The quiet streets were deserted now, their footsteps the only sound as they walked back to the hotel, the interminable search to find the bar commuted to a ten minute walk because finding your way home was always easier than figuring out where you were heading in the first place.

Chapter Three

    A t the hotel, light was flickering from the tiny black and white TV behind the reception counter, shadows dancing on the gray hair of the night porter, asleep at his post. She remembered the elevator’s heavy metal death rattle and led Javi from the silence of the empty lobby to the stairs, worn stone steps that sloped in the middle with years of wear. She wanted to pass without a trace through the halls, as if to wake another guest would be to return them to real time, to end the magical moment she’d managed to pull like taffy from the last drawn out notes of the singer and Javi’s arms around her— in that moment with her like he hadn’t been for so very long—stretching sweetness and bending the moment back on itself, hoping it wouldn’t break.
    Javi keyed open the lock on their door and let her enter before him. He touched her shoulder as she passed him. His hand fell away when she didn’t stop, and she looked over her shoulder, wondering if he’d follow. He stared at her, desire naked on his face. Pain sang low and sweet in her chest until her breath hitched, and she opened her mouth to ask if he thought he’d made a mistake.
    No . She didn’t know if he’d said it aloud or just moved his lips to form the word before pressing his mouth to hers. Her mouth, her forehead, her shoulder. Stripping the dress over her head as she pulled at the stupid buttons on his shirt and pushed his pants to the floor.
    His skin against hers burned hot, and she sank under him on the skinny bed, head edging off the mattress at one end, ankles dangling at the other. His hands were at her breast, between her legs, then grabbing her wrists as she matched him in franticness, holding her still as she quivered on the edge of wanting and need, bucking against him with her