Page 26 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
The warm, sweet man I’d come to know in just a few hours had a great sense of humor. I liked being around him. He had depth and values that aligned with things I’d rarely spoken about to anyone.
Danger lurked here.
If I got attached to a guy like Epic, I might not be able to walk away.
Epic could turn my quiet, purposeful world upside down.
Chapter Seven
Ishowered when I woke from my nap. As far as I knew, Epic hadn’t returned to our suite, but he probably would shortly, and I wanted to get shaved and dressed before he came back.
The bath was nothing short of miraculous. It featured an extra-long tub, a separate shower, and two pedestal sinks. Lovely tilework evoked both the resort’s Spanish colonial heritage and the gardens outside.
I’d just finished shaving when the door opened.
“I’m back.”
“I’ll be out in—”
“This place is…” Epic had walked in with his usual bonhomie, but he stopped short when he saw me in only a towel. His cheeks reddened. “Sorry.”
“No worries. I’m through with the bath if you want to grab a shower before dinner.”
“Sounds good. What are we wearing?”
“I thought I’d wear slacks and a button-down with a jacket.”
“Okay.” He went to the closet and took out the duffel he’d brought. “I guess I should’ve hung things up, huh?”
“There’s an iron.” I indicated the cubby over the closet. “I could press anything you need while you shower.”
“Oh God. No. It’ll be fine tonight. The penguin suit’s all I’m worried about. I’m a great packer. I just hate living out of a suitcase.”
I’d already hung my shirts and slacks and put the rest into dresser drawers, so while I dressed, Epic unzipped his duffel and took his clothes out to hang them. He was right about packing. He’d employed some strategy that saved space but kept his clothes from getting rumpled.
“How much did you bring?” I asked.
“Enough,” he said coolly. “Is that a problem?”
“No. I admire how you Tetrised your things. You’ll have to teach me.” He’d run out of hangers and he was only half done. “I’ll call housekeeping for more hangers.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Only a few minutes passed before a woman—name-tagged Linda—brought a nice stack of hangers.
“Thank you.” I tipped and took them from her. “Appreciate it.”
“Have a good afternoon, sir.”
I helped Epic hang up the rest of his things. “I feel like I've been knighted with as many times people have called me sir today.
“I know, right?”
“I’ll go out to the patio while you get ready. I’ll take my laptop and check on work.”
“Should you do that if you’re on vacation?” he asked.
“Probably not, but it’s a compulsion.”
