anything else?”
“No. Nothing else,” I said, disappointed and highly perturbed. Who was that strange man with the dark chocolate eyes? And why was I wearing the necklace he had given me instead of the silver cross that meant so much to me? Could he have been the fourth man my landlord had mentioned? The one he described as average looking?
“Lisa,” Roberto said, drawing my attention back to him, “we have mentioned that we are alike, you and I, but have tiptoed around the matter. I think it time to lay our cards on the table. I shall go first. I heal unusually fast like you do,” he said, gesturing to the fading bruises on my arm. “I am also faster and stronger than anyone else I know. I can hear things other people cannot hear, and see things from a great distance away that other people cannot see.”
I felt as if my heart stilled for a moment as he said aloud the secrets I had kept from others all my life.
“What about you?” he asked softly.
As my heart regained its rhythm and thumped loudly in the silence, I realized something else I had not noticed till now. Roberto’s heartbeat was beating as slow as mine, at around fifty beats per minute. Most heartbeats ranged from sixty to a hundred beats per minute. Another shared oddity between us.
“Me, too,” I whispered, intimidated even now by speaking of these things aloud. “Ever since puberty I’ve been faster and stronger than other people, my senses—hearing, seeing, smell—all sharper, more acute.”
“But this.” He gestured to the silver chain I still held in my hand. “This does not hurt you or weaken you in any way?”
“No. Why should it?”
He searched my eyes as if he would glimpse all their secrets. “No reason,” he said, sitting back down.
I blew out a breath, feeling a curious relief from unburdening myself. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. You’re just like me.” Hesitantly, shyly, I laid my left hand over his chest to feel his unusually slower heartbeat. “Your heart even beats slower, like mine.”
He held himself very still beneath my touch.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you grinning and looking at me like that?”
“Because it is the first time you have voluntarily touched me.”
I drew back my hand, flustered. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No, do not apologize. I like it very much when you touch me. Why are you staring at me like that?”
The words left my mouth before I had a chance to think. “Because when you smile you go from being remarkably handsome to almost irresistible.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Did I just say that out loud?”
Roberto laughed, and the sound of his laughter was as compelling and tantalizing as the rest of him. “Yes, to my great enjoyment. I shall endeavor to smile more for you, my sweet Lisa,” he said, reaching for my hand.
I drew back, my gaze dropping to the necklace that lay between us. “No . . . I’m sorry. You make flirting so easy, so fun, and I admit to a powerfully strong attraction to you . . . but I don’t remember the last few months of my life. I don’t know if there might be someone else I’m committed to, unlikely though that may be.”
“You do not wear a wedding or engagement ring,” Roberto observed carefully.
“No.” I looked down at my bare fingers. “I don’t.”
Gently he lifted my chin until our eyes met again. “Then count me in the running.”
“Of what?”
“A suitor, like this other man you remember may be.”
“More likely he was just a new friend I had made, or perhaps a neighbor or a coworker.”
“There you go again, denigrating yourself.”
“With good reason. I know I’m not beautiful. I’m just a very plain-looking woman.”
“You do not know what I see. But, gracias Dios , I know that you feel what I feel.” That ever-present heat flared up between us like an invisible muscle flexing, testing. “You are special to me, as I know I am to you.”
Roberto started his campaign that very night.
The coastal
“No. Nothing else,” I said, disappointed and highly perturbed. Who was that strange man with the dark chocolate eyes? And why was I wearing the necklace he had given me instead of the silver cross that meant so much to me? Could he have been the fourth man my landlord had mentioned? The one he described as average looking?
“Lisa,” Roberto said, drawing my attention back to him, “we have mentioned that we are alike, you and I, but have tiptoed around the matter. I think it time to lay our cards on the table. I shall go first. I heal unusually fast like you do,” he said, gesturing to the fading bruises on my arm. “I am also faster and stronger than anyone else I know. I can hear things other people cannot hear, and see things from a great distance away that other people cannot see.”
I felt as if my heart stilled for a moment as he said aloud the secrets I had kept from others all my life.
“What about you?” he asked softly.
As my heart regained its rhythm and thumped loudly in the silence, I realized something else I had not noticed till now. Roberto’s heartbeat was beating as slow as mine, at around fifty beats per minute. Most heartbeats ranged from sixty to a hundred beats per minute. Another shared oddity between us.
“Me, too,” I whispered, intimidated even now by speaking of these things aloud. “Ever since puberty I’ve been faster and stronger than other people, my senses—hearing, seeing, smell—all sharper, more acute.”
“But this.” He gestured to the silver chain I still held in my hand. “This does not hurt you or weaken you in any way?”
“No. Why should it?”
He searched my eyes as if he would glimpse all their secrets. “No reason,” he said, sitting back down.
I blew out a breath, feeling a curious relief from unburdening myself. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. You’re just like me.” Hesitantly, shyly, I laid my left hand over his chest to feel his unusually slower heartbeat. “Your heart even beats slower, like mine.”
He held himself very still beneath my touch.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you grinning and looking at me like that?”
“Because it is the first time you have voluntarily touched me.”
I drew back my hand, flustered. “I’m sorry, I—”
“No, do not apologize. I like it very much when you touch me. Why are you staring at me like that?”
The words left my mouth before I had a chance to think. “Because when you smile you go from being remarkably handsome to almost irresistible.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Did I just say that out loud?”
Roberto laughed, and the sound of his laughter was as compelling and tantalizing as the rest of him. “Yes, to my great enjoyment. I shall endeavor to smile more for you, my sweet Lisa,” he said, reaching for my hand.
I drew back, my gaze dropping to the necklace that lay between us. “No . . . I’m sorry. You make flirting so easy, so fun, and I admit to a powerfully strong attraction to you . . . but I don’t remember the last few months of my life. I don’t know if there might be someone else I’m committed to, unlikely though that may be.”
“You do not wear a wedding or engagement ring,” Roberto observed carefully.
“No.” I looked down at my bare fingers. “I don’t.”
Gently he lifted my chin until our eyes met again. “Then count me in the running.”
“Of what?”
“A suitor, like this other man you remember may be.”
“More likely he was just a new friend I had made, or perhaps a neighbor or a coworker.”
“There you go again, denigrating yourself.”
“With good reason. I know I’m not beautiful. I’m just a very plain-looking woman.”
“You do not know what I see. But, gracias Dios , I know that you feel what I feel.” That ever-present heat flared up between us like an invisible muscle flexing, testing. “You are special to me, as I know I am to you.”
Roberto started his campaign that very night.
The coastal
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