Page 29 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Maybe it is. Would that be so bad?”
“My parents would go nuclear if that was the case. They expect better things from me.”
“But it sounds like your grandmother sort of champions you.”
He nodded. “We’re very close. When I was a kid, she seemed almost magical to me. Things were always better when she was around. In the long run, she’s the one I want to make proud. I don’t know if my parents even have that setting.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. I’m just being stupid. Chloe—that’s my mother—says I’ve been hiding in St. Nacho’s in order to avoid responsibility.”
“Do you make enough to pay your way?”
“With a roommate and the food I get from Bistro, sure.”
“Are you happy there?”
“Oh yes. I love it in St. Nacho’s.” His face softened.
I sent another stream of smoke into the air. “My friend Daniel says the same thing.”
“Livingston? Of course he does. He’s got Cam Rooney to go home to.”
“Yes, there’s Cam, but I think originally he was there for business and because his brother lives there. He stayed because he loves it.”
“I understand that. When I first saw the place, it was as if a big weight fell off my shoulders.”
“How’d you end up there?” I leaned my elbows on the wall beside him and shifted my weight ever so slightly. Our arms pressed together.
“I was supposed to go to LA with an actor friend. He planned to get headshots and start making the rounds. It was pilot season. He was going to try to get an agent.”
“Oldest story in the world.”
“Right?” Epic chuckled. “I didn’t really even want to go. LA isn’t my idea of a nice place to live. Anyway, we got as far as the valley, and he started talking about porn. I was outta there so fast I burned the streets up. On the way back, I stopped in St. Nacho’s and never left.”
“You’re happy there.”
“I am.” He turned to meet my gaze. “You would be too, I think. St. Nacho’s would be good for you.”
“Think so?” I carefully crushed out my cigarette and tossed the butt into a nearby trash bin. “Kind of a tough commute to Vancouver.”
“You should open a satellite office. With the border, the ports, and the I-5 corridor, California is a major artery for human trafficking from both Mexico and China.”
“I am aware,” I pointed out.
“And are you aware you have a ton of stress-related habits that seem to be taking a toll on your health?”
“Who are you, my mother?”
Epic giggled at that. He fucking giggled, and the sound was so endearing I found myself wishing this was a real date.
“C’mon,” I said. “I could use a good night’s sleep.”
We turned to walk, but a shape moved out of the shadows and a flame limned a horribly familiar face. The man stepped forward.
“Hello, Ryan.”
Of all the lousy seawalls in the world, why’d he have to show up at mine?
