Page 72 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“Me?” I scoffed. He was the beauty. My bossy Adonis with his cuffs, and his plugs, and his unexpected tenderness.
“Yes, you." He towed me to the shower and turned the water on. "You’re gorgeous. You know this.”
I stood propped against the tile wall while he cleaned the plug carefully and wrapped it in a towel. “Come over here.”
“All right.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I put mine around his neck. We turned, sharing hot water and kisses until we were clean enough for bed.
* * *
Later,dry, warm, and impossibly relaxed, I slid between the sheets as Epic hung up our clothing. He brought me water to drink, then slid in beside me.
“You should definitely hydrate.”
“Okay.” I removed the cap from the bottle and took a couple big swigs.
“How do you feel?” Epic rolled to his side with his head propped on one hand, his exceptional blue gaze burrowing into my very soul.
“Like an empty suitcase.”
He brushed my hair behind my ear. “That good or bad?”
“So, so good.” I thought about it. “One kind of empty is when something is missing, but another kind is when you’re ready to be filled with something new.”
“Good to know.”
“Mm.” I pressed my cheek to his.
“What’s tomorrow?” he asked.
“Been thinking about that. Originally, I’d planned to stay until next weekend.”
Epic’s eyes widened. “I need to get back for work.”
“I figured. I would have driven you to St. Nacho’s then come back here. It’s not that far.”
His features clouded with disappointment. “That’d be okay.”
“Yeah, but I wonder…”
He stilled. “What?”
“What if I spent the rest of my vacation in St. Nacho’s? Think you’ll have some free time? We could hang out. Do whatever it is people do there.”
“Really?” He seemed pleased by my suggestion.
“If it’s something you’d like.”
Suddenly, I had armfuls of Epic—happy, kissy, giggly Epic. He smashed into me so enthusiastically that we accidentally slid off the bed.
“Are you kidding me?” I complained when I stopped laughing. “Old men are delicate, for God’s sake. You want to break something?”
“Sorry,” he gasped with laughter. “Really sorry. I swear to God.”
He stood and dragged me to my feet.
“This time,” he said, “maybe get in the middle instead of hugging the edge like a frightened virgin.”
Epic Alsop was the last person I’d expected to burst into my life, but he was also the person I’d needed at exactly the right time.
