Page 42 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Now I totally understand why tapas is a thing.” Epic definitely enjoyed the food. He studied every morsel as he ate it, savoring each one. “Every little bite just sings.”
Flush with wine and spicy food, he looked delicious himself. I hadn't forgotten what had almost happened before we’d received the invitation that had changed our evening’s trajectory.
Not being twenty-something, I filled up long before Epic, so I kissed his cheek and went to relax in one of the loungers. I watched the dancers for a while, mesmerized by their vitality and passion.
A severely dressed dark-haired woman, the guitarist’s fingers moved so fast at times they were barely visible. Sometimes, they plucked so slowly and passionately it evoked the long hot nights when Luis had played my body just so.
Every expressive, emotional note took me to another place, another time, when Luis and I had been happy together. For a few minutes, I enjoyed the memories, but then I remembered other less pleasant days, and it came back to me that I was glad things had ended between us.
I only wished we’d been quicker to realize that love couldn’t last—not if I continued to pursue a demanding career, not if he wanted to live a jet-set lifestyle. There was a lesson there, and I’d almost forgotten it that afternoon. Romance wasn’t in my cards, not while my true passion lay elsewhere.
“Is the amontillado putting you to sleep?” Luis asked from beside me.
I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t noticed his approach. “No. I’m enjoying the music. This is a wonderful party. Thank you for inviting us.”
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“William seems wonderful.” I would probably never know if he was or was not, and I found I didn’t care. “You’re both very lucky.”
“William is perfect. Despite his many gifts, he wishes to take care of me.”
Because after all, I’d expected Luis to take care of himself. “I’m glad.”
“They say there is someone for everyone.”
“They do say that, don’t they?”
“Yet you bring a boy half your age to my wedding. I wonder if you’re even seriously looking.”
“I’m not,” I said. “And Epic is delightful, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m sure,” he said dryly. “But he’s tapas. Not a meal for a grown man.”
“Luis.Don’t be an ass.” Epic had finished eating and was standing behind him.
“At least with tapas, he’ll never be bored.” Epic shot me a smug smile.
Luis’s lips tightened. “Of course, you are right.”
Epic’s blue eyes sparkled. “Congratulations again on your upcoming marriage.”
“Thank you.”
“Mind if I join you, Ryan?” Epic asked as he sat on the side of my lounger.
“Of course not.”
“I must make the rounds.” Luis rose. “Good to see you, Ryan. We’ll have more time to talk later, I hope.”
“I hope so.”
I made room for Epic, and we stayed like that, spooning, drinking amontillado, watching the dancer and the flickering firelight while conversation in two languages eddied and flowed around us.
“So this is how the other half lives?”
“More like the one percent.”
He turned to me. “Really? You dated a one-percenter?”
