CHAPTER 19

“Untouchable (Taylor’s Version)” – Taylor Swift

“MY BAD FOR FORGETTING TO introduce you guys in college.” Enrique chuckles, while looking between Luca and me.

“Why?” Sofia turns toward him and teases, “Jasmine wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss you then.”

Enrique almost chokes on his drink at her comment, when I notice Sofia’s eyes flicker to his lips. I’m reminded of the night at the beach and how he went up behind her, thinking she looked annoyed by him. Maybe she was actually flustered, and maybe they were flirting. But maybe I’m mistaken. Then again, I’m usually right about these things.

Luca gives me a slight smirk and adds, “And I wouldn’t have had the chance to give her all that advice.”

I nudge his shoulder.

“It seems like everything worked out well though,” Sofia says with a smile.

“For them,” Enrique replies dryly before grinning knowingly at Luca. “It’s okay, you can just introduce me to someone else.”

“Sofia’s single,” I remind, almost without thinking. But I watch as she squirms in her seat, now blushing .

Luca glares at me.

“Never mind,” I comment. We all start laughing, except for Luca, who shakes his head even though he’s trying not to smile, before Enrique passes me the plate of scrambled eggs. “Thanks.”

He looks at me, his lips forming a grin. “Do you want some Brazil with that?”

For a second my brows crease, until I remember the first conversation we shared right when I got here discussing basil, and then I smile knowing he’s still poking fun at me, our inside joke now.

When my attention diverts back to the moment, I still can’t quite register it yet. It’s shocking enough that Enrique invited Sofia, Luca, and me to have breakfast together this morning. But it’s gladly even more surprising how pleasant it’s been, and not at all awkward the way I thought it would be. I’m happy to have met each of them. It’s a group of friends I would’ve loved to have back in high school or college. I just hope the next time that they all visit California we can get together again.

_________

I was already excited for the art festival that’s today, but when Luca and I finally arrive, I feel as though I’ve just entered one giant postcard, with all the vivid colors of paintings, posters, drawings, and more artwork scattered all around. Most booths have some sort of aquatic element to it, which is complementing the blazing summer sun and clear blue skies perfectly.

Although the best part about today so far is arguably Luca’s reaction to the festival. How his head is tilted up with wonder. How his eyes are lighting up at each sculpture, each painting, each portrait. A much more relaxed contrast to when I first saw him around artwork at the gallery not even two weeks ago .

I feel like I’m watching a close friend find their way back to something that held a lot of meaning for them before. Happy is an understatement for how I feel witnessing this.

When we find Sofia’s booth, we quickly walk over to her as I reach out to embrace her first. “Wow Sofia, everything looks incredible. You both did an amazing job.”

Luca points toward Sofia. “This was all her. I mostly did the boring stuff.”

“Sure. I don’t mind taking all the credit.” Sofia raises her brows at her brother, before looking back at me. “Have you seen any pieces that stand out to you yet?”

I point toward a canvas that caught my attention just a second ago. “I think this one’s really cool. Are those raindrops?”

“No. They’re stars,” Luca chimes in.

“Are you sure? They look more like rain to me.”

He scans the bottom of the piece. “Yeah. Look. The title says it’s a photo of a galaxy.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say. “Maybe it’s just a metaphor then?”

He presses his lips together, trying not to smile. “A metaphor ? You don’t see the constellations next to the more scattered stars?”

I tilt my head forward, seeing it less and less. “Those are constellations? I thought that was a small table with two chairs next to it. Like the outside of a coffee shop during a rainy day,” I romanticize, while gesturing with my hands, to which he looks even more bewildered than a second ago.

“She’s right,” Sofia agrees. “Those don’t look like stars at all. I thought it was rain too.”

Luca rolls his eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you two agree with each other. ”

“What?” I say innocently. “Isn’t art supposed to be subjective?”

Seeing him scowl on the inside without a response turns me on more than it should. It’s hot knowing how passionate he is about something like this.

When Luca and I walk away from the booth, I look at him with a smug grin. “Do you wanna know something?”

“What?” he replies, while looking at the pieces of art with such detail that’s only adding to his attractiveness.

I confess, “I find it so endearing when you get worked up about things.”

His attention shifts back to me as he smirks. “Okay. So all of your remarks this entire time have been intentional , then?”

I lean in closer. “I’ll never tell.” As his lips remain curved, I notice a painting filled with a variety of iridescent seashells and eagerly walk toward it. “Can you take my picture next to this one?” I ask, and then giggle when Luca looks at me instead of at his phone, while taking the picture. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking your picture,” he says nonchalantly.

“How do you know the pictures are turning out okay if you’re looking at me and not at the camera?”

“Because you’re in them.”

His comment leaves me a blushing mess as he hands me his phone. “How many did you take? 50?” I mock.

Then my lips quickly part open when I only see two photos. Both pretty great in quality, might I add.

I suddenly feel warmer at the image of him from a moment ago. He was looking at me like how you look at your crush when you think they’re not looking. Except I noticed all of it.

“I guess they’re decent,” I tease.

He laughs as we continue reveling at the artwork.

________ _

Later in the afternoon, we stop by a charming eatery down the street to share some fresh paella. As Luca finishes the last bite, I see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “I kind of wish I submitted something now,” he says. “Maybe I’ll try next year.”

“Luca, that’s amazing.” Feeling beyond proud of him, I playfully add, “Although, I worry for your competition.”

He leans in, brushing his fingers over my hand from across the table we’re sitting at outside. “You don’t need to be this sweet to me. You already know I like you.”

I teasingly meet his eyes as I lean in closer. “I know. I’m just hoping for a chance to be your muse next time.”

“You already are.” His Adam’s apple flexes as he bites down on his bottom lip. “Apenas puedo respirar cuando estoy tan cerca de ti.”

I don’t think he just complimented the iced coffee …

His eyes smile as he reveals, “I can barely breathe when I’m this close to you.”

I wonder if he can tell that I’m almost holding my breath, knowing that if I exhaled it the way that I want to, it would be a bit too inappropriate given the setting. “I can barely breathe when you speak Spanish, so I guess we’re both in trouble,” I confess.

“I didn’t know that.” He tilts his head, smirking. “What else are you not telling me?”

I glance down at his lips before looking into his eyes. “How do you say, ‘your eyes are disrespectful?’”

“Tus ojos son irrespetuosos,” he says with the same seductive expression as a second ago, while he draws small circles over my fingers.

As my breathing continues to spiral, I ask, “How do you say, ‘your touch is addicting?’”

“Tu toque es adictivo.” His voice gets noticeably deeper as the pressure of his finger over my hand increases.

“How do you say—”

“Stop making me blush ?” he interrupts, taking a guess.

I pretend to look innocent. “Am I doing that?”

Extended eye contact after you’ve already kissed someone who you’re this attracted to feels even more intense than before you kissed them. Which probably explains why I’m currently frozen in my chair, while still leaning toward him.

It’s then that I feel a cold breeze near my shoulder. I glance down and notice how the thin strap of my white sundress has dropped down my left arm. Before I have a chance to react, Luca tugs the soft fabric slowly up my skin, heat pouring all over as he rests it back against my collarbone. When he releases his index finger from under my strap, my entire chest fills with goosebumps.

“Maybe just a little …,” he finally replies as he locks his eyes with mine again.

Oh I’m definitely the one blushing now.

_________

After the festival, Luca brought some art supplies from their booth back over to his apartment. We decided to watch a movie, but in reality have been talking the whole time instead.

Halfway in, he leaves shortly before coming back to the couch with a guitar that resembles the one from the makeshift bonfire.

I eagerly sit up as he begins strumming the melody I thought I’d never get to hear from him.

He’s playing the opening cords of Laufey’s “Bewitched.” And it’s even more ethereal than I thought it would sound.

My eyes are shut, while I move along with the melody. “That reminds me, I need to look over all your playlists before I leave.”

“That reminds me, I need to put a password on my phone,” Luca deadpans. When I open my eyes and glare at him, he chuckles. “I’m just joking, go for it.”

I immediately reach for his phone, my mouth dropping open in disbelief at the first song I notice on one of his playlists. But before I have a chance to comment on it, he stops playing, and looks at me with pure mischief in his eyes. “I have an idea. Come with me.” He reaches out to hold my hand as we put on our coats before leaving his apartment.

My heartbeat grows with anticipation of where we’re going, while we walk down the lit-up streets before stopping right outside a café that has an overwhelming number of lights covering the patio. Lights that vary in shapes and sizes, but have one common trait. They’re all sparkling enough to brighten the entire pavement.

“Wanna be my first?” Luca asks me.

Heat cuts right through the chill of night. “Your first what?” I almost whisper.

“The first person I slow dance with outside of a coffee shop,” he says, biting down on his smile.

An unexpected laugh erupts from my stomach as he walks up to a tiny beige table. “It’s the closest I could come up with on such short notice,” he says charmingly, while looking over his shoulder. “I’m just sorry that I couldn’t get you a gazebo. Maybe next time.”

“Are you kidding me?” My eyes widen. “This is perfect.”

I’m still reveling in the dazzling scene, when “Bewitched” starts playing again, this time from his phone.

Silence. The air is filled with silence. Except for the song, that is. And the slightest cold breeze that’s perfect enough to brush through the front strands of Luca’s golden hair .

He reaches out his palm toward me, and when my fingers touch his skin, his thumb paints across my knuckles in a feather-like motion. He slowly pushes his fingers through the crevices of my skin, intertwining his fingers in mine, a spark cascading all the way down to my toes as I inhale.

Then I feel his other hand roam around my back, his fingers slowly and gently flattening across my skin. I exhale at the vibration as he pulls me in close enough to kiss.

I don’t know how to waltz, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t either.

But those are the movements we’re mimicking. As I take a step back, he moves forward, without our eyes ever slipping away from each other.

If I could cry right now, the tears would most likely still sparkle.

In fact, the tension is strong enough that a diamond could form as his nose tickles the tip of mine.

There’s something about this song that always made me dream of shiny things. Objects that reflected shades of silver, gold, champagne, and anything that glimmered during the night sky. A reflection that’s so beaming, you could just taste the romance. I’d dream of being in a scene like that. Where the imagery was strong enough that you could happily get lost in it.

But now. I can’t even picture any of those things. Because this moment is better than that entire dream.

Luca continues to surpass my imagination when he lifts our intertwined fingers, before twirling me around, only to bring me in so quickly as he wraps both of his hands around my back. And lower now.

Hoping he kisses me, I close my eyes when he does something better .

His lips part before pressing along my collarbone.

I didn’t know a touch could feel this absent from my life. A flurry of comfort wandering across skin. A ray of sunshine beaming in the dark. A touch that demands your full attention, forgetting anything before this feeling was ever important. Now that I’ve felt it, I never want to go without it.

I lean in closer as I rest my head on his shoulder, wanting to relish these last few notes the song has left until it devastatingly comes to a close.

A four-minute-long song never sounded so short.

As I’m thinking this, “Untouchable (Taylor’s Version)” starts to play.

He remembered.

Our conversation from that same makeshift bonfire reverberates in my mind:

You know what’s one of my daydreams? … To dance with my crush in a fully lit gazebo to Taylor’s version of ‘Untouchable’ playing in the background.

Just when I thought my heart was about to burst, an influx of stars fills my eyes. I want to say something to him. But when my lips part, not one whisper drops. It’s too overpowering. The warm twinkle in his eyes. The wind gently blowing on the golden tips of his hair. The way his chest is slightly lifting against mine.

Luckily, my hands do the talking for me as they hold onto the nape of his neck, tightly pressing his warmth into me. I shiver when his cheek brushes along my neck, so close that the vibration of his pulse echoes onto my skin. Each second the heat builds in my stomach, the melody disperses around us like cosmic dust forming a galaxy.

As the final notes fade into the background, we stay on our constellation .

It’s too overwhelming. In the best way. A moment tied to a song I wished for years to have. And this man just gave it to me after a fortnight.

When we finally pull away longingly, Luca looks at me, smiling, though bewildered. “What?”

My eyes must be wider than I thought. “This is the first time I heard both of those songs without daydreaming of being somewhere else,” I confess. “I guess there’s nothing left to imagine when something’s so breathtaking that even a fantasy couldn’t live up to it.”

He tilts my chin up. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how your eyes light up when you’re excited about something. Every time it’s happened so far, my heart jumps a little. Like now,” he says, my heart now melting into glitter.

Luca’s lips are parted enough where I see a glimpse of his tongue pressing along the side of his teeth as he’s about to grin. He raises his brows, still perplexed, but also awestruck. “I just—” He pauses, and this alone doubles the desire in my eyes. “I can’t believe I met you,” he continues, shaking his head. “I always hoped I’d meet someone like you one day, but now. I can’t even articulate how happy I am to know you.” A nervous chuckle slips from his lips. “See, that didn’t even make much sense.”

“It made perfect sense,” I say. “More sense than most things I say to you, that’s for sure.” I laugh.

The glimmer in his eyes is practically sparkling now. “You’re just everything. And more ,” Luca exhales, while my mouth drops open again for God knows how many times since we’ve met. “My friends used to tease me all the time that romance didn’t exist. That it was always just this idea.” He smiles at my lips, before meeting my starry-eyed gaze. “I’m glad I didn’t listen. ”

When his lips touch mine again, I swear I whimper this time, wanting to keep kissing him for hours .

As we’re about to walk back, I take his phone, looking for the song I wanted to play right before we left. “I hope you’re not tired yet.”

When Luca realizes that Gracie Abrams’ “Close To You” is playing, he smirks.

I turn around, and start walking backwards, singing the lyrics that I know by heart. The same ones I kept singing all summer long, hoping that I’d meet someone like him one day to finally relate all the collections of romantic songs I’ve kept to myself for way too long .

Luca’s eyes are as fearful as they’ve ever looked. “Oh no, she’s walking backwards…”

I snort, and put my hand out as he takes it without a second thought. He places his hands on my hips and obnoxiously tilts his head down, shaking his head to the beat as his hair grows so disheveled that I have to remind myself to breathe.

It’s a good thing that we both know there’s absolutely no other way to listen to this song than dance like no one is watching you.

Which is precisely what we do. Except there are a couple people here and there passing by who cheer us on while we look like two idiots roaming along each street.

I also don’t know who’s dancing’s worse. Me or Luca, whose shoulder movements are making me struggle to decide whether I should continue to sing along or just laugh instead.

And so I do both.