Page 45 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
I opened my mouth to his, tasting the wine and spices he’d eaten and the flavor of newness and hope and wanting.
Needing more of that, I relaxed against the bench and let him lead, which he did—would have done, I thought—whether I’d yielded or not.
Perhaps that was another of Epic’s secrets. It was for damn sure I’d never foreseen this sexy, take-charge side of him. Nurturing? Yes. Dominant? I didn’t expect it.
I gripped the bench with one hand, uncertain whether I was ready for sexy Epic.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Mmhmm.”
He rubbed his nose against mine playfully. “Then why are you clenched up like an opossum.”
“Am not,” I scoffed while I tried to unclench.
“Am I moving too fast for you?”
I wanted to scoff again, but I knew how I’d sound. “No?”
“Oh my god, you’re adorable.” He stood, clasped my hand in his, and started walking while I tried to figure out what it meant that he found me adorable. He was the cute one, the young one, the one who wasn’t a workaholic with alcohol issues who was taking his first vacation in six years.
How did he keep turning things upside down for me?
* * *
We enteredour suite and turned on only the most necessary of lights. I brushed my teeth while he changed into boxers and a T-shirt, then he brushed his teeth while I changed.
“You have a preference for breakfast? Do you want to eat here or go out?”
“Let’s go out.” He set his phone on the charger by the bed. “Maybe we can find someplace cool along the beach?”
“Sure.”
“Are we really not going to talk about it?”
“About what?” I stalled.
“About what just happened between us. I know you’re older, but surely you remember that kiss?”
“I remember.”
I sat on the side of the bed. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Epic.”
“I’m in a billion-dollar luxury resort with a gay man I find super attractive. I don’t think it’s me who’s got the wrong idea.”
I grasped my knees with both hands. “I didn’t invite you here to hook up.”
“But you have to admit the idea has merit.”
I laughed. “You’re absolutely incorrigible.”
“Ryan, it’s okay if I’m not the right guy or—”
“That’s not it.”
“Or if it makes you uncomfortable. I just want you to know that I like you. I feel good about things when I’m with you. So I’d be down.”
“Just like that.” I scooted up so my back rested against the headboard.
