Back in Sam's room.

Chapter 9

Back in his attic room, Sam lies on his bed, the events of the evening spinning through his jet-lagged mind. The house creaks and settles around him, its ancient pipes occasionally letting out sounds that might be sighs. Through his dormer window, Barcelona's lights twinkle like fallen stars, and somewhere in the distance, church bells mark the midnight hour.

He can still feel the phantom weight of Georgina on his lap, still smell traces of her perfume and sweat on his clothes. The whole dinner feels like a dream now—Laura's easy warmth, Lisa's graceful silence, Maria's analytical stare, and Sonia's quiet authority. Underwater hockey players, all of them. He tries to picture these strange, compelling women moving beneath the surface of a pool wearing one piece swimsuits, playing some mysterious sport he can barely imagine.

The sound of running water echoes through the pipes—someone taking a late shower. His own skin feels sticky from travel and the warm kitchen, and his hair is still mussed from his earlier siesta. The bathroom is just down the hall, the one with the green door and the sticky handle, Laura had said. A bath would be heaven right now, a great opportunity to wank one out and clean himself up.

But the faint glow through the holes in the floor also draw him. He wonders what Georgina might be up to now. Through the floor, he can hear music starting up—something classical this time, not Maria's **** metal. The pipes groan again as the shower stops. Now he has to decide: should he take his turn in the bathroom while it's free, or take another peek into Georgina’s room?