Page 57 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Believe it or not, I was looking for a way to extricate myself when you burst through the flora to rescue me. You’re bleeding by the way.”
“I know.” He put a hand to one of the scrapes on his neck. “The bushes were denser than I thought.”
“And there you were without Excalibur to hack through them.”
“Shut up.” He softened his tone finally. “I thought maybe you were going to take them up on it.”
“Who knows? At another time and in another place, I might have. But not the night before their wedding. That makes things awkward.”
“I think William really wanted a shot at you. Maybe he didn’t think Luis would go for it after the wedding.”
“Whatever. It’s not like I’d go through with it at all.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Epic asked. “You sure the hell weren’t fighting them off.”
“One moment of hesitation—”
“I swear, you looked like an armadillo about to be hit by a semi.”
“Hush.” When we got to our suite, I opened the door and led Epic to the bathroom where I made him sit on the side of the tub. “Let me get my first aid kit.”
“I don’t need you to—”
“You saved my maidenly virtue. It’s the least I can do.”
He huffed unhappily but stripped off his shirt and let me clean him up.
He had a lot of scratches, mostly on his hands, neck, and chest, but there was one on his cheek and one on his forehead. As I dabbed healing ointment onto each, I wished I could kiss them better.
This boy.
This sweet, silly, loving boy was going to be the end of me.
I kissed his unscratched cheek. “Thank you for saving me from what probably would have been a very hot but ultimately degrading three-way with my ex and his uber sexy husband-to-be.”
He took my shoulders and held me back a bit. “Is that something you and Luis used to do?”
I didn’t answer.
“No, come on. Tell me.” He let me go and went to the sink to wash his hands. “Did you guys used to bring in a third?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Epic turned to lean against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. “Because I don’t see that as a ‘you’ thing.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “It’s probably more of a Luis thing. I still wonder why I went along.”
“I think that’s sad.” Epic sighed. “Now I’m going to feel weird at their wedding.”
“It might work for them. No need to pass judgement.”
“No, that’s not it. What do I care what they want?” His gaze hardened. “But if you were mine, I wouldn’t share you with anyone. That’s…not worthy of him or you.”
“Mm.” As I rearranged things in my first aid kit, I allowed myself to poke at emotions I’d believed I was well past allowing to hurt.
I thought about the times Luis’s eyes strayed. The clubs where he pulled a third into a dance or a drink, then coerced me into bringing him home with us to “share.”
