Page 64 of Tell Me Lies: Manlove Edition

“Well, she needs rest for at least a full forty-eight hours. And you can pay at the counter in the reception.” With that, he spins on his heels and leaves, white uniform flapping.

Chapter Six

The next happened as I had hoped. Once Lola had been released from the medical center, a bit shaken but in good health, we all went out for dinner in the Old Town of Segovia. In truth, I had hoped for Robin and me to be alone at a romantic table, but we couldn’t exactly exclude our two women friends from the party.

It’s evening, the setting sun filling the narrow streets with languorous heat. This is tourist season, and all the restaurant tables are taken. Luckily, Mira-Me made a call to a manager earlier, offering top promotion on her Insta and Snap profiles and thus obtaining a nice table for four on a terrace overlooking the majestic Gothic cathedral. I’ve got to hand it to her, the girl has proven to be useful more than once.

My decision to stay off the booze meets some serious challenge when Robin, who sits across the table from me, orders a bottle of rosé. “We’re going to celebrate that Lola is fine,” he states, looking appeased and confident. It took him a while to get back to his normal self after the accident. “You have no idea how relieved I am.”

A waiter brings a pink bottle and fills our glasses. I put a hand over mine. “Um, thanks, but I’m not having any.”

“Why not?” my friends ask in unison, brows raised.

“I’ve decided to do something about my drinking problem.” There, it’s out, and those who didn’t know I had a problem now know.

Mira-Me doesn’t care. She stares openly at the waiter, a Spaniard with the looks and charisma of a young Antonio Banderas. I can understand her attraction, but I already have one right ahead of me, and it takes all my strength not to lean over the table, grab his shirt collar, and kiss him the way we kissed in the restroom. That steaming hot scene will stay very live in my mind and keep me lusting for a long time. Unless we do something even crazier.

The object of my desire studies me, hands folded on the table, his emeralds holding a strange radiance. “You know, it’s possible to ‘quit drinking’ and still enjoy a glass once in a while.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m afraid I can’t stop at one.”

“Why would you want to stop at one?” Mira-Me asks at my side, adding a small laugh.

“Because it has become a problem. I’m in such bad shape, I had trouble carrying Lola earlier. I wasn’t breathing, I was making sounds you’d only hear in your worst nightmares.” I grin to show I’m half-joking. “It’s pathetic, and it’s due to my daily alcohol consumption.”

Lola, who without the facial paint reveals Latin features of great beauty, sends me a warm smile. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You saved my life.”

“Nope. Your extreme physical fitness is what saved you. You’re all muscles, lady.”

“Whatevs.” She waves a dismissive hand. “You’re my hero. You beat all of them trapezists and tightrope walkers and musclemen breaking chains etcetera at the circus. You even beat Robin, who’s almost as strong as me.” She elbows him in the ribs.

He chuckles, enjoying the gentle banter. It’s nice to see them behave like loving siblings—I recall what he said at the medical center, how she’s a sister to him.

A hollow settles in my stomach. I’m an only child and don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling. I don’t even know what it’s like to have parents anymore. Mine are cold and distant, back-talking me and fretting over petty issues.

Robin slides his wineglass across the table and sets it in front of me. “Have some and tell yourself that’s all for now. Take control of your urge. I know, I’ve been through this.”

“You have?” Mira-Me asks, voice high-pitched and gaze big as her loop earrings.

I nod my head to her and tell him, “Careful what you say, this bimbo will broadcast anything that can increase her numbers of likes and comments.”

He laughs again and winks at her. “Oh, but she knows I have enough followers to crush her numbers.”

“That’s actually true,” I agree, teasing her. “If you add up your followers on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, Vimeo, your blog, and—”

She sticks her tongue out at both of us, then finishes her glass and raises it to the waiter, who serves other guests nearby. “Uno más, por favor.” One more, please.

He replies with a charming wink. “Sí, un momento.” Yes, just a moment.

Lola leans over the table and pushes Robin’s wineglass closer to me. “Come on, have a taste. For me. And for you, because you were there for me.” She sits back in her chair with fingers crossed over her stomach and her yellow-brown gaze full of humor and expectation. “Cheers, buddy.”

That draws a smile from me. I appreciate her friendship. Yesterday, she practically jumped on me with her claws out because I’d been rude to her friend-brother.

The waiter returns with the bottle of rosé. All smiles, Mira-Me lifts her glass for him.

He thins his gorgeous black eyes and asks her, “Have I seen you somewhere?”

The girl beams as if the sun itself has taken residence in her. “Of course you have, Sweetheart. I’m an influencer.” She puts emphasis on the last word, giving it more importance. “I’m all over the world.”

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