I wake up with my face plastered to the pages of my open mystery novel, covered in crusty drool.

As usual. And as usual it takes me a minute to orient myself, to determine whether I’m dreaming or having a nightmare.

Neither. It’s real life. Tavo kissed Sonia in the kitchen last night. The second I saw them I spun around and headed back to my room, not needing a hot mug of Cola Cao anymore. My heart beat in my ears, and I almost hyperventilated.

As I made my way back to bed still thirsty, all those fantasies I’d been harboring evaporated, poof, into the night air.

It’s a relief, right? To let him go to his novia?

I can’t think about Tavo the way I have been—all tall and lean and smelling so good. The way it’s so easy to talk to him. The way I want to know everything about him. The way I can’t stop staring at his beauty.

Whatever I’m feeling about Tavo, it’s been lost in translation. Like that professor said, he’s thinking things are estupendo, when he really means not bad. I’ve been misinterpreting. He’s not looking at me and feeling the way I feel about him.

He’s fucking her, not me.

He’s kissing her, not me.

And not only is he attached to another woman, I’m still stewing because Shane hasn’t responded to my email.

I message him on Skype again.

Are you around to talk?

As I wait for him to respond, I flip through my phone looking at the pictures I’ve taken this week. Pictures of school, of beautiful plazas filled with fountains and benches and flowers. Gorgeous views of the Alhambra. I’ve posted so many new things on my Instagram—not just the sights, but the sumptuous food—and a few selfies.

I don’t ever want to go back home. I love Spain, and I want to stay here. Selecting a few photos, I send some to my parents and to Maggie.

Maggie texts back asking how I am and about school, and I call her immediately on Skype.

“Maggie! How is it out there?”

“So pretty. It’s getting cool here in Yosemite, and the leaves are starting to turn. Court and I are chopping wood for winter.” Her voice sounds cheery and warm.

“That sounds … homey.” And I start to cry.

“Kim. What’s wrong?”

“Everything. I broke up with Shane.”

“Honey.”

“Well, I sort of did. I couldn’t get ahold of him, so I sent him an email. It wasn’t the way I wanted to do it, but he didn’t email me back. He hasn’t messaged me.” My voice lowers and gets shaky. “I hope I didn’t hurt him.”

“Breakups are hard, Kim.”

“I know. But we’re supposed to be together. Kim and Shane. It’s like peanut butter and jelly.”

“More like peanut butter and pickles.”

I laugh and snort up my snotty tears. “What?”

“You two didn’t have a lot of chemistry. It felt like you were going through the motions.”

“You thought that?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s not my business to step in where your heart is concerned. It’s your heart. No one else’s.”

No one else’s. “It’s not just that, it’s everything. School is hard. I don’t understand Spanish very well. I want to be a good student, and I’m just not.”

“Well, that’s fixable. Just keep practicing.”

I want to bring up my sexy practice partner, but he’s painful, too. Better just to leave that distraction back in his orchard and make friends with my bullet.

When I’m done talking to her, I call Shane. But of course he doesn’t answer. I don’t leave a message, though. I’ve said all I want to say.

I have one more place I can try. I call my parents. My dad answers the phone, and he’s finally figured out how to make the camera so I can see him.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, pumpkin! How are classes?

“They’re really hard, but I can tell that once I get the hang of this, I’m going to be able to do it forever.”

He grins. “That’s my girl.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“At the office late. She’ll be home soon. How’s life on the farm?”

“Really pretty.” I pause. I want to tell him about the people here, but that runs into thin ice. So I settle on telling him about the history of the Alhambra and some of the other things I’ve seen in Granada. When I’m done, I ask, “Have you heard from Shane?”

“No, I haven’t seen him or his parents. He might be out of town.”

Shane never goes out of town.

“Okay. He just hasn’t answered my emails in a while.”

“I’ll see what his mom says.”

If Shane could make this easier on me, it would be good, m’kay?

“Corta la zanahoria.”

This afternoon I slice carrots into coins on a cutting board. Tavo’s mom and I work in the expansive kitchen making paella, which is a saffron rice dish made with different meat or seafood. We’re using rabbit, chicken, and shrimp. I’ve never had rabbit before, but I’m willing to try. She and I are also making zanahoria al-andaluz, a marinated carrot dish that has garlic and cumin.

The windows are cracked, letting in a cool fall breeze that has an even colder edge to it. The door opens, and Tavo walks in, wearing a Pearl Jam T-shirt and jeans with a belt. His usual leather cuff and bracelets are on one hand, and he’s got the most delicious scruff going on his jaw. He smells clean like he’s just got out of the shower. Coming up right beside me, almost too close, he asks, “Everything going okay?”

“Yes,” I say, quieter than I intend.

He watches me cut for a moment. “I think you need to hold the knife like this.” He stands behind me, his breath on the back of my neck, his hands over mine. Positioning my fingers farther down the knife, he arranges my hand so that my third finger hooks in the cut out part below the blade, my index finger on top. It feels better that way. I don’t want him to move away, but he does, loping over and getting garlic for the dish.

His mom’s cell phone rings. “¿Diga?” She listens intently, rattles off some words I don’t understand, and then says, “I need to go talk to Señor Molinero. Can you two work on this until I come back?”

“Por supuesto, Madre,” says Tavo. She gives him a look I can’t interpret, wipes off her hands on a towel, and goes out the door.

As I chop carrots, Tavo peels garlic and sings in a low voice while he does it. It’s mesmerizing, his voice is so seductive and calming. When he finishes, he washes his hands and comes over to me.

“You’re holding the knife better.”

“Thanks. At home, my mom just uses food from her company, and my dad has no interest. So we don’t cook much from scratch.”

“This is sad. Everyone should know how to cook. Food is one of the pleasures of life.”

I smile, turning to slice some red peppers, and can’t help thinking of some other pleasures.

He stands behind me again, watching me cut the peppers. It’s not too close. It’s not close enough. I give an involuntary wiggle, and he places a hand on my waist.

I sigh. I wish I could allow this. I wish he could touch me like this. Because it feels good. So achingly good. I like him dominating me in the kitchen, and this fact scares me more than a little.

“My little conejo,” he murmurs. “You’re quite the chef. These look beautiful. Not as beautiful as you, though.”

“Conejo? A rabbit?” I set down the knife and turn toward him.

“Your nose curls up. It twitches like a bunny.” He runs his finger down my nose.

And he leans down as if he’s going to kiss me. It’s driving me absolutely insane. He’s driven me insane since he stepped in the room.

We need to stop it. Right now.

“Tavo. We can’t do this. What about your novia?”

A perplexed look crosses over his face. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I saw you, Tavo. I saw you kissing Sonia. I don’t know why you have to deny it.”

“I’m not deny—” He sighs and puts his hands down. “Kim. Let me tell you something. Come here.” Pulling me over to the kitchen table, he gets a chair out for me and sits down in one on the opposite side, facing me. With earnest eyes on mine, he begins to tell me how the girl next door has gone from being a kid who followed after him to one who has told her father to foreclose on the house if she doesn’t marry him.

And now my heart aches even more for him.

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t feel anything for her. I’m trying to figure out how to save my mother and our heritage without compromising my soul.”

“I saw you kiss her—”

“You saw her kiss me—”

“And Guillermo said you fucked her.”

My words ring out and hang in the air, echoing through the kitchen.

He spits out a curse. “Yes. Once. About a month before you got here.”

“It wasn’t the other day?”

“No, guapa.”

“Then why did Guillermo make it sound like you were doing it? He told me way too much. He told me you were mirando pa’ Cuenca.” Tavo shudders. “I didn’t know what that meant and I had to Google it. How does your brother know you were doing it doggy-style?”

“Whatever he says, guapa, nothing’s happened since you’ve been here. He likes Sonia. For some reason, she has her sights on me, and he’s jealous.”

“She’s beautiful,” I offer. “You could do a lot worse than her.”

“But I could do a lot better. Unfortunately, you’re not available.”

My mind stutters, and my heart takes a leap. “What?”

He’s so earnest. So beautiful. So close. “You know.”

“I know what?”

“You know I’m attracted to you. And you’re attracted to me. But you’re taken by another man, and—”

“Another man I broke up with,” I mutter, standing up to go back to cutting peppers.

Now Tavo rises. It’s his turn to say, “What?”

My back to him, I start slicing the vegetable again. “If he’d only answer the Dear John email I sent, I’d be running after you.”

No sooner are those words out of my mouth than the knife clatters to the floor, and Tavo lifts me up to an empty part of the counter. His lips on mine, his hands on my lower back, and mine are on his ass, pulling him between my legs. He kisses me with red hot passion and power I can feel down to my bones. Irrevocable. Life-altering. His kisses are deep and fervent. Body to body. We’re tongue-wrestling in the most electric way possible.

And I am lost in his kiss. I am nothing. I am one with him. We’re creating something new together.

We are dancing with our tongues, our hands grasping each other, clutching to each other like we’re scared the other one will let go. I never want to let him go. This is where I belong.

Where we belong.

I pull back and slap him. Hard. “I can’t!”

Oh my God, I just slapped Tavo. I’ve never slapped anyone. I’m out of control. I can’t handle this. I can’t, I won’t, I must … I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt him, he just surprised me, and I’m mad that I want him.

The hurt in his eyes is so scary, not because he’s dangerous, but because he’s turning me on. And it’s dangerous that he’s turning me on. “Why did you slap me?”

“Because I want you. I want you so bad,” I whisper-yell, holding him to me, wrapping my legs around him.

Tavo’s beautiful face is in mine, his lips so close and swollen from our kiss. “Kim. I want you, too. Since the moment I saw you. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel how good we are together?”

“Yes.” A tear runs down my cheek, and I turn away from him. “But what if the rest of the world won’t let us be together?”

His finger wipes my tears, and his lips are against the top of my head. I press my cheek to his chest and almost have a heart attack, he feels so good. “The rest of the world doesn’t have to know.”

I’m breathing so hard. “We can’t do this.”

“I couldn’t … I can’t stay away,” he mutters.

My hands fold behind his neck, pulling him closer to me, his mouth inches from mine. “My parents wouldn’t like this.”

Dark eyes lock on mine. “Neither will my family.”

I’m searching for a reason not to do this. “I’m promised to another, still. Technically. Since he hasn’t said anything back, I don’t have closure.”

“My family wants me to be with Sonia.”

“Everything is messed up,” I whisper.

He kisses me again. This time I’m scrambling to hold every part of him.

“It’s not messed up. It’s perfect.”

I’m licking his lips, my hair messed, wanting to do nothing else but touch him. Touch every part of him. He’s kissing the soft part behind my ear, murmuring, “I want you. I want you so badly.”

“I want you, too. But we can’t. We need to … we need to do something about the other people—”

“Yes.”

Against his skin, I can’t help but ask, “This isn’t just because it’s forbidden, right? I mean, would we still want to be together if nothing prevented us from doing so?”

“Yes. That’s my answer. What’s yours?”

“Yes.”

He kisses me yet another time in response. When we break away, I say, “Tavo. I feel like we’re going to the edge, and we’re pushing ourselves off. What’s going to happen?”

“It’ll either crush us, or we’ll fly.”

I press my lips to him. “How does that feel on your conscience?”

His eyes go the ceiling full of dried herbs and garlic, and then to mine. “I’m happy. How does it feel on yours?”

“All I know is that I’m tired of living my life for everyone else. It’s time for me to listen to myself.”

He leans in and kisses me fiercely.

We’re in the shadows. I never liked having secrets, but I don’t want to share Tavo with the outside world yet either. I like this secret corner only he and I share. Right now, all I feel is finally belonging. I belong in his arms always.