The door to the old changing-room by the side of the swimming pool is standing ajar. I slide into it, heart thumping, and Juan's there, slipping his arms around my waist, pulling me in close.
I sort of sigh out hello, then I whisper, "I can't see a thing. You could be a mass murderer for all I know."
Qhich is insane because I know it's him. Every one of my senses tells me it's him.
His mouth lands on mine, I push the door shut behind me, and it gets even darker, but we don't need to see. I reach up and wind my arms around his neck.
"This is all so stupid," he breathes, between kisses. "Acting like -- fugitivos."
"We are fugitives," I murmur. "It's quite fun. Romantic."
"Yes. It's romantic. But I want to be out there with you. I wanted to tell Ana -- go away. This is my girlfriend."
I can't speak, I'm too full of what he's just said. I slide my hands up his neck, into his hair, pull his head down to mine again, and we kiss, we kiss for ages, like we're learning new things about each other all the time.
