Suddenly I had that prickling feeling again, like I was being watched, just like I used to get so often back at the house – only this time when I looked, there was actually someone there. A stocky guy in his early twenties stood nearby, leering as he took in my short skirt. I held back a shudder; it felt like clammy hands running over me.

I realized my eyes had met his and looked hastily away, but it was too late – he came sauntering over, blocking our path. Though shorter than Seb, he was a lot broader, with beefy muscles. With a silky smile at me, he made a comment in Spanish. Seb answered tersely, trying to steer us past. The man grinned and sidestepped in front of us; my stomach turned at the smell of stale sweat and too much cologne. He looked lingeringly at my chest – and then with a smirk he reached out and stroked my cheek, saying something that sounded slimy no matter what the language.

I jerked away, but Seb was faster. He’d stiffened when the man spoke; now he grabbed his shirt and shoved him off me, low, furious Spanish spilling from his lips. With a lunge, the guy pushed Seb back, sending him staggering a few paces. They faced each other on the sidewalk, eyes locked.

“Seb, it’s all right!” I clutched his arm. His muscles were rigid as he stared at the man; I could feel the hard swell of his bicep. “Whatever he said, it doesn’t matter – please, just forget it.”

The guy sneered and said something else. You didn’t have to speak Spanish to get the gist: Yeah, listen to your girlfriend. She knows I’d flatten you in a fight.

I ignored him and took Seb’s hand, squeezing it. “Come on, let’s go.” Trying to laugh, I added, “Look, I didn’t even understand what he said. Really, just forget it. It’s okay.”

Seb’s hand gripped mine as if it were a lifeline. Finally, he let out a long breath. “Yes, you’re right,” he said softly.

Without another word, he put his arm around me again and we walked away. The bustle of the marketplace around us continued without even a ripple; no one had paid any attention to the scene. The man called something after us, laughing.

Seb’s jaw was still tense. I could feel how tightly he was holding himself together, and knew it was all caving in on him: what had happened at the cathedral, and now being back here. Of its own accord, my arm slipped around the lean warmth of his waist and I pressed close against him. A shiver ran through me. Nothing made sense right then, especially whatever I was feeling – I just knew that I wanted so badly to comfort us both.