Blissful in Barcelona

Most people’s life chapters are measured by buying a house, getting married, having children, or any of the other rights of passage that have been popularized by modern society. I base my life chapters based on what country I’m visiting. Traveling has become such a big part of my life, my friends have a running joke: that I only work to be able to afford to travel. I love my job, but other than the actual trip, nothing excites me more than planning my next vacation.

For this reason, I was shocked at my own reaction when my boss assigned me a project that required me to travel to Barcelona. Instead of my usual excitement, I was utterly crestfallen. Barcelona was one of my favorite places, but the idea of working during the trip instead of spending my days exploring the city was less than ideal. Worst of all, the trip was during my anniversary weekend, and my boyfriend and I had plans.

I met Jack at my friend Isabella’s birthday party, and I have been crazy about him ever since. It’s been a year since we started dating, and he planned a romantic getaway in Napa Valley to celebrate our first year anniversary. 

“Hey babe,” Jack’s voice says from the other line. 

“Hey,” I responded, trying to steady my voice. Calling him to cancel our plans was the last thing I wanted to do, but the sooner I did the better. Hopefully it would be early enough for him to get refunded for airline tickets and our hotel.

“Working late again?” he asked.

The clock on my desktop read 7:30pm. “Yes,” I said with a sigh. 

“I can’t wait for next weekend. You’ll be able to finally take a much deserved break,” Jack said enthusiastically.

The excitement in his voice made my heart sink. How was I supposed to break such disappointing news? 

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” I said, clearing my throat. “There’s really no easy way to say this, and I’m so sorry to do this, but—”

“Are you cancelling our plans for next weekend?” Jack interrupted.

“Yes.” Silence. “My boss is sending me on a last minute trip to Barcelona to fill in for her. She’s nine months pregnant and can’t travel—she can pop any day and, I’m so sorry. I just found out,” I ramble.

Jack sighs. “I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed,” he begins, “but I get it. I know how important your job is to you.”

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

I spend the rest of the week working late to prepare for the trip, leaving no time to see Jack before I leave. Maya, our creative director, gave my friend Ethan and I the responsibility of filling in for her. Our job was to convince up and coming Spanish designer Paolo Ruiz to sign a marketing contract with our firm. Failing was not an option. Between researching Ruiz’s brand and personal life on such short notice, Ethan and I had our hands full.

It wasn’t until the moment we stepped off the plane in Barcelona that I allowed myself to relax.

Beside me, Ethan’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “We’re finally here,” he said, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. 

“Time to work our magic,” I replied, getting excited about the work to be done. I had been so upset about canceling my plans with Jack and working late, that I forgot to see the situation for what it really was: an incredible opportunity to further my career. If Ethan and I succeeded in landing Ruiz as a client, we would definitely impress Maya. Impressing your boss is always a good thing when you want to get promoted, and I most certainly wanted to move up the corporate ladder.

“A perfect backdrop for our big pitch to Ruiz. No pressure!” Ethan said with a smile, taking out his iPhone to snap a quick selfie of us before picking up our checked bags.

Ethan was my best friend at work. We started at the company around the same time and always got promoted around the same time. There was nobody else I would rather be working on pitching Ruiz with. I wholeheartedly trusted his ideas and work ethic, and having him alongside me on this trip eased my mind.

Once we collected our luggage, we made our way outside, the warm Barcelona sun welcoming us. The streets were alive with the sounds of laughter and music, and I felt a surge of energy as we hopped into a taxi.

“Do you want to check into our hotel or get food first?” Ethan asked.

“Let’s check in and drop off our bags first. I want to freshen up before hitting a tapas bar,” I said, my love of travel now fully back. Between that and my empty stomach, I could barely contain my excitement.

We spend the rest of the ride to our hotel reviewing our carefully planned itinerary. We had one full day after meeting with Ruiz, which gave us time to sneak in a trip to Casa Batlló and explore the city. 

I rolled down my window to feel the Spanish wind against my cheeks. The vibrant energy of the city was palpable. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the Mediterranean—fresh bread, rich olives, and the distant hint of salt from the sea. How could I have been so apprehensive about this trip only a few short days ago?

Once we checked in, we quickly freshened up and set out into the sun-drenched streets. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the intricate architecture always stirred something deep within me.

“Where to first?” Ethan asked, glancing at me with a grin.

“There’s a tapas place I went to last time I was here. It was delicious and it’s not far from here,” I suggested, my stomach rumbling in agreement.

Ethan nodded in agreement. 

As we navigated the bustling streets of the Gothic Quarter, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Ethan. He was the only person I knew that loved traveling as much as did. He had been to a lot of countries in Asia, but this was only his second time in Europe. He looked effortlessly handsome in a fitted jacket, the soft curls of his hair framing his face.

We had been friends for years, how had I never noticed the way the setting sun hit the golden streaks in his hazel eyes?

The tapas restaurant was small, with only five rustic tables. It was dimly lit with several candles throughout, and their flames danced against the limewashed walls. The heavenly aromas of garlic and spices enveloped us the second we walked through the door, and we were seated at a table near the window. We quickly settled in, enjoying the culinary delights of the city against its sunsetting backdrop.

“This is amazing!” Ethan exclaimed as we sampled dishes of patatas bravas, chorizo, and grilled octopus. Each bite felt like a celebration, and we clinked our glasses of sangria together, savoring the moment.

“Here’s to new adventures!” I said, raising my glass.

“To new adventures—and to us landing that campaign,” Ethan added, his eyes meeting mine. 

The weight of his gaze caused a shiver to run down my spine. He had never looked at me like that before. Jack had never looked at me like that before, either.

As we continued to eat, I found myself secretly staring at Ethan across the table. He was so animated and so present, savoring each moment. I started to wonder what it would be like to travel with him outside of work. He had always shown me pictures of his trips, but he always solo traveled. If he had planned a romantic getaway to Napa Valley, what would it be like?

I immediately struck the thought from my brain. It made me feel guilty and wasn’t fair to Jack, even if it was a private thought.

That night, as I lay in bed, I replayed the day’s moments in my mind, particularly the way Ethan looked at me during dinner. I drifted off trying but failing not to think of the way his eyes looked in the sunlight.

The next morning, Ethan was already waiting in the lobby, looking dapper in a fitted suit—one of Ruiz’s very own designs. “Wow,” he said, taking a step back to admire me. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” I replied as Ethan looked at me from head to toe. I was wearing a body-hugging mid-length dress with an asymmetric neckline. His eyes lingered on the curvature of my waist just a second too long, but it was enough to make me blush and stir something in the pit of my stomach. “You look great yourself,” I added. 

We both had purposely chosen pieces from Ruiz’s latest collection to wear for the pitch. It was a way to show we had an appreciation for his designs. 

After a quick breakfast, we made our way to Ruiz’s studio. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and as we approached, I felt a mix of nerves and determination. This was a defining moment in our careers. We couldn’t let Maya down, but most importantly, we couldn't let ourselves down.

Like his designs, Ruiz’s office was deeply rooted in Spanish traditional designs but with an international flair. The interior had asymmetrical columns and stained glass, similar to Gaudi’s signature architectural style. The furniture was Japanese wabi-sabi, decorated with traditional African pottery and Klimpt-style art throughout. It wasn’t a room that I would have put together—I would have thought the different styles would clash—but like everything Ruiz designed, it was both tasteful and unique.

Ruiz greeted us with a warm smile before offering us coffee and tea. He struck up a friendly conversation about our time in the city, and about the cultural differences he had experienced while living in Turkey, France, Japan, and the US. It was easy for Ethan and I to relate to many of his experiences. While neither of us had lived abroad full time, we were well traveled and had stories to share as well.

When we launched into our presentation, I felt a sense of ease working with Ethan by my side. Our synergy was undeniable. We were on the same page and it felt like we could read each other’s minds. As we pitched our ideas, I caught glimpses of Ruiz’s approval. It felt exhilarating.

Once we wrapped up, Ruiz leaned back in his chair, clearly impressed. “I’m not going to lie—when your company first reached out about handling the marketing for my line, I had my doubts. I didn’t think your team understood my brand. But you guys proved otherwise. I like it.”

Ethan and I exchanged glances, and I could hardly contain my excitement. “Thank you!” I exclaimed. “We believe our campaign can really capture the essence of your designs.”

After a few more questions, Ruiz gave us a nod. “Let’s move forward. Send a draft of the contract to my legal department, and we can go from there.”

As we left the studio, the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders. We had done it! I turned to Ethan, barely able to contain my joy. “We actually did it!”

“I knew we would!” he exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. When he stepped back, our faces were inches apart, and I felt the air shift around us.

Ethan was staring deep into my eyes, holding my gaze. The corner of his mouth curled upward into an effortless smile. I felt myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to look away. I felt myself leaning into him. The scent of his cologne lingering in the air around us.

What am I doing? I have a boyfriend.

I snapped out of my daze and stepped away as fast as I could. I cleared my throat. “We should probably call Maya to give her the good news,” I said, quickly trying to go back to being professional.

“Right.”

We called Maya—who was ecstatic—but no matter how hard I tried, I could not go back to being professional. I caught myself sneaking glances of Ethan, watching how the golden sun hit his face. The smell of his cologne was engrained in my brain, and when he moved I would get a faint whiff of it. Most of all, I wanted him to look at me again. I wanted him to look at me in the way he did when he saw me in my dress. The same way he did when he looked me in the eyes after our meeting.

“Now, go celebrate!” Maya ordered us playfully. “You guys deserve it.”

A playful grin spread on Ethan’s face. “You don’t have to tell us twice.”

Less than thirty minutes later, we found ourselves sitting at Hotel Colon’s rooftop bar, enjoying a wonderful unobstructed view of the Catedral de Barcelona across the street.

“I’ve always wanted to come to Barcelona,” Ethan said before taking a quick sip of his drink and leaning back in his chair. He had undone the top few of his shirt buttons and rolled up the sleeves. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to look at the beautiful gothic cathedral.

I always knew he was handsome, but it had never had an effect on me. Why was I reacting to it now?

“Why didn't you come before, then?” I asked, taking a sip of my own cocktail.

Ethan shrugged, then looked back at me. I got the feeling he was deciding whether or not to tell me what was really on his mind. He licked his lips and then answered. “It just didn’t feel like a solo-travel kind of city.”

I felt my stomach flutter. Ethan didn’t tell me he had wanted to come to Barcelona with me. He didn’t even say he wanted to come with a girl specifically. He just said he hadn’t wanted to come alone. So why did I so badly want him to mean he wanted to share this experience with me?

I shouldn’t try to find a deeper meaning in Ethan’s words. We worked together. We were friends. And I had a boyfriend.

“Well you’re here now,” I said with a smile. “Have you ever seen a more gorgeous view?” I asked, gesturing to the Catedral de Barcelona. 

“No,” Ethan replied without looking at the cathedral or tearing his eyes away from me. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

When our second round of drinks came, Ethan accidentally grazed my leg with his under the table. 

I felt my stomach stir and a heat began to form between my legs.

Stop it. Snap out of it.

By the time we ordered tapas for dinner, my body was feeling the effects of three rounds of drinks. Ethan was funny and interesting while I was sober, and being buzzed only made him that much more funny and interesting. I couldn’t pull myself away from his magnetism. I couldn’t stop myself from hanging on to his every word. Most importantly, I couldn’t stop myself from flirting back. I kept leaning forward in my chair, giving Ethan a generous view of my neckline and what lay underneath. At some point I reached over the table and fed him a bite of my favorite dish we had ordered.

It was wrong but it felt so right.

When we finally stepped out into the streets to call an Uber, the sun was setting and a mild and cold breeze was blowing. I instinctively stepped closer to Ethan for warmth, but he immediately stepped away from me. My cheeks get hot from the embarrassment. Was I misinterpreting the situation? It wasn’t until he wrapped his coat around my shoulders that I realized why he stepped away from me and my panic subsided.

Ethan was sitting dangerously close to me in the back of the Uber. His cologne infiltrated my nostrils again, and although we had both been dancing along the line of propriety all evening, something about sitting so close to him while wearing his suit jacket felt different. Intimate.

The ride up the elevator to our hotel rooms felt eternal. We stood awkwardly next to each other, our arms touching, but neither of us said a word. His room was a floor above mine. What would he do when the doors opened and it was time for me to get out? Would he follow me? Did I want him to?

The elevator doors opened with a ding. “Good night,” I said. We turned to look at each other, and when our eyes locked, I felt a rush of emotions. I wanted to lean in, to bridge the gap between us that had grown so fragile yet so palpable. 

The future of our friendship hung in the balance, but before I could say anything else, Ethan smiled gently. “Good night,” he said.

My heart sank and I found myself feeling wounded as I walked down the hallway back to my room. I shouldn’t feel this way. What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t want Ethan to follow me back to my room. I should not feel heat between my legs when his skin touched mine. 

I kicked off my heels and dropped down on my bed once inside my room. I felt the day’s excitement leave my body only to be replaced with weariness. Between working nonstop on Ruiz’s marketing pitch, traveling to Barcelona, and the rollercoaster of emotions I had been experiencing, I was exhausted.

I curled up under the covers fully clothed and grabbed my phone to read a book or doomscroll on social media. Instead, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I realized I had seven missed calls from Jack. 

Jack.

I had been so caught up in work and then celebrating my big career win, I had completely forgotten to check in with him.

“Hey babe,” I said as sweetly as I could when I returned his call. 

“I haven’t heard from you in three days,” Jack said. “I was starting to get really worried.” His voice sounded scruffy. I could tell he was mad and was trying really hard not to show it.

“I’m so sorry,” I replied. “It’s just been so busy. But I have great news! Ruiz loved our pitch and he’s signing on with our firm!”

“Congratulations,” he said flatly.

“Thanks.” Why was he not more excited? “All that hard work paid off. I am so excited to get home and tell everyone in the office.”

No answer.

“Anyway, how have you been?” I asked, trying to ignore his coldness.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Jack asks, no longer trying to hide the anger in his voice.

I desperately racked my brain to figure out what he’s talking about, but nothing came to mind.

“Fuck, are you serious?” he asks, angrier now that the reasonable time to respond has passed. 

“What—” I begin, but Jack didn't let me finish.

“Today is our anniversary!” he exclaims. “I understand you had to go on this trip. But you didn’t call. Didn’t even text. I tried calling you seven times. Seven times.”

My jaw drops. How could I have forgotten our anniversary? A wave of guilt washes over me, rendering me speechless.

“You spend all your time glued to your phone when we’re together, but you didn’t check your phone once today? You’re really that busy?” Jack continues.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Not only can I think of anything else to say, there really is nothing else to say.

Jack sighs. “Listen, we can talk about this when you get back,” his voice sounds more calm now. “I’m obviously upset and would really like to talk about this in person, instead.”

A knot forms in my throat. “Sounds good,” I manage to blurt out. “We can talk once I’m home.”

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, but I felt as if there was not enough air in the room to fill my lungs. I opened my window and inhaled deeply, hoping to calm my nerves with the fresh Barcelona air. This night—this trip was not turning out to be what I expected.

I had been so excited to celebrate Jack and I’s one year anniversary. Napa sounded like the perfect romantic getaway. I had been so upset about being sent to Barcelona. How had I forgotten all about Jack and our anniversary in just a few days?

I knew why. I just didn’t want to admit it.

How did spending one day with Ethan make me forget about Jack altogether? Not only was I the world’s worst girlfriend, I was also the world’s worst friend. Ethan and I were friends. We worked together. Having feelings for him was not going to help either of us or our careers. Friends don’t do that to each other.

Suddenly, there is a knock on my door. My heart skips a beat.

I look through the peephole and see Ethan, still dressed, on the other side of the door. My heart starts beating so fast I think it is going to burst out of my chest. I should turn him away. I should pretend to be asleep. He shouldn’t be here. I spent the entire evening flirting with him, and it’s clearly a mistake. I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who is caring and understanding. Jack doesn’t deserve this.

Still, I can’t help myself and open the door. 

Ethan has a wild, fierce look on his face. His hair is disheveled and his shirt is halfway unbuttoned. He looks effortlessly cool, and I love and hate the reaction my body has to how attractive he is.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth quickly, as if he wouldn’t say them if he thought about it for another second. “I can’t stop thinking about tonight. I know you feel as connected to me as I do to you.”

Ethan looks me in the eyes, holding my gaze again. His hazel eyes sparkle in the bright hallway light. He runs a hand through his hair, and he looks both desperate and determined.

“If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave. I’ll never bring this up again. We can go back to the way things were before,” he says, almost pleading.

The future of our friendship hangs in the balance. My future with Jack, too.

I can’t deny how attracted to Ethan I am. How the feeling of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine. How the sound of his voice makes me forget about the world. How all I’ve done since we landed is think about his lips on mine, and the way the rest of my body responds to that very thought.

But I have a boyfriend. And if I let Ethan in my room tonight, I would betray him. Then what if things between Ethan went south? I would no longer have a friend, either.

I search Ethan’s eyes. He’s grown more impatient in the few seconds that have transpired. His chest rises and falls as his breath becomes more ragged. He’s looking at me both like a hungry lion hunting his prey and a wounded puppy. 

I think about Jack, and how he has not crossed my mind except in passing over the last few days. I think about how he’s never looked at me the way Ethan does, and about how as crazy as I thought I was about him, he’s never made me feel the way Ethan has the last few days.

“Come in.”

Ethan crosses the threshold in a single step and closes the door behind him. His hands are immediately wrapped around my waist. He takes one last look at me before pressing his lips against mine.

His lips feel soft against mine at first, and they become increasingly more firm as he deepens our kiss. He kisses the corners of my mouth, then bites my bottom lip. Soon his tongue is exploring the inside of my mouth as I wrap my fingers around his hair.

The smell of his cologne is all around me, and I happily breathe it in, hoping it stays engrained in my memory forever. 

Ethan gently pushes me onto the bed. He takes a look at me, letting his eyes wander the entire length of my body before climbing on top of me. He kisses my collarbone and slowly works his way up to my neck. He breathes against my skin, and a wetness starts to pool between my legs. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do this,” he whispers in my ear.

He presses his lips against mine again, this time while he runs his hands lightly up and down my thighs. I grab his neck, pulling him closer to me as I grow desperate for more.

I feel his erection grow against my lower belly, and I grind my hips against his in response.

Ethan’s breathing is ragged now and his eyes are full of lust. He unbuttons the rest of his shirt without breaking our kiss, and I run my hands down his back, tracing his muscles with my nails. He throws his shirt across the room and flips me onto my back.

He kisses the back of my neck and rubs my shoulders before pulling my dress zipper down. He undresses me slowly, carefully, but once my torso is free, he pulls my dress off with such desperation you’d think his life depended on it. Then he rips my underwear off, the thin lace no match for his strong hands. 

Ethan takes his pants off before straddling me. He runs his hands up and down my body, tracing the outline of my silhouette from my neck down to my knees. I feel his hot breath tracing an invisible line down my spine. He’s driving me wild and my body is growing desperate.

Then, just when I think I can’t take it anymore, I feel his fingers between my legs.

I open my legs slightly wider to give him better access, and Ethan responds with a low moan. His fingers trace small circles around my clit. He starts slowly and lightly at first, then increases the speed and pressure. Being on my stomach intensifies the sensation, making me tightly grab onto the sheets. 

Ethan gives me a playful spank before flipping me onto my back again. He runs his hands down my chest, taking one of my breasts in each hand and squeezing them. Not letting them go just yet, he lowers himself down my pelvis and grazes my clit up and down with his tongue. He starts flicking it against my clit and I needily push his face deeper into me.

He puts each of his hands on my thighs and spreads them wide, kissing each of them before rubbing the tip of his rock hard dick against my clit and labia. He’s looking down at me, smiling from ear to ear. He’s teasing me and I can tell he’s enjoying watching me squirm and wreath beneath him. 

I wrap my legs around his hips and pull him closer to me. “You’re naughty,” Ethan says with a chuckle.

I reach up and touch Ethan’s chest, running my hand down his muscular abdomen. I smile up at him before pulling him down into a kiss. Never letting his lips leave mine, he slips his penis inside me. My back arches from the pleasure and a soft moan escapes my lips. 

Ethan breaks our kiss and makes eye contact with me as he starts thrusting himself deeper and deeper inside me. I feel as if he’s not just looking at me but truly seeing me. Nobody has ever looked at me like that during sex before, and the simple act of eye contact feels more intimate than anything I’ve experienced.

He holds my gaze for a few seconds before lightly kissing my lips and then burying his face in my neck. I feel his hot, ragged breath against my skin and hear his soft moans in my ear while his rock hard dick hits my G spot with every thrust. I grind my hips against his, and the pleasure is so intense I hold the sheets again. This time, however, he takes each of my hands in his and pins them on either side of my face. He’s in complete control, and it’s exhilarating.

Ethan’s pelvis slightly rubs against my clit with every thrust, and when combined with his deep thrusts, is sending me into overdrive. 

“I’m so close,” I whisper in his ear, before nibbling on it. 

A deep, primal sound escapes Ethan’s lips. He kisses my neck before thrusting harder into me. Then, just when I’m about to come, he slows down. He takes his dick out almost completely before putting it back in. He does this over and over, dragging out my climax to extend our pleasure. After the fourth time he does this, I can’t control myself any more. I wrap my legs around his waist, preventing him from pulling out. 

Ethan smiles devilishly, clearly pleased that I want him inside me. He pumps in and out of me, and I push him deeper and deeper inside with my legs until they shake and I explode from the intensity of the pleasure within my body.

My legs fall limply onto the bed as the undulating waves of pleasure make their way down to my toes.

Ethan keeps thrusting inside me until his back arches with pleasure and his body shakes. He then falls on top of me, sweaty and spent.

“That was better than I imagined,” Ethan says with a smile, and starts to run his fingertips along my forearm.

“How long have you been imaging us like this?” I ask.

“Since the day I met you.”

My jaw drops. I’d known Ethan for years. “Well,” I finally responded, clearing my throat. “I guess we have to make up for lost time.”