Page 82 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“I don’t think we have that.”
“Get a Corona,” Epic muttered. “Thinks he’ll get a Moosehead in a Mexican restaurant on the central coastline.”
“Hey,” I complained. “It’s the first brand I thought of.”
“We need to expand your horizons.” Muse eyed me. “Get you out of your comfort zone.”
I glanced around the table. “Mission accomplished.”
“You’re a friend of my brother, right? Dan Livingston?” Lonnie leaned forward, hands wrapped around a glass of soda. No way was he old enough to be drinking.
“Yeah. You’re the youngest?” The kid nodded. “You’re in school, right?”
“I’m a freshman at Cal Poly.”
“What are you studying there?” I moved empty glasses toward the middle of the table.
“Sustainable agriculture practices.”
“That sounds great. Do you enjoy it?”
Lonnie nodded, but a whoop went up at another table, and I didn’t hear what he said next.
Our food came fast. I had the waitress put it into the center of the table. Epic grabbed a plate for me and loaded it up. Apparently, his salad plea had found favor because I got a nice garden salad to go with the mostly fried foods.
“Eat.” Epic narrowed his eyes. “Or I’ll drink your alcohol.”
“Can’t have that.” I’m sure Epic’s friends thought I was humoring him, but the way he micromanaged my health hit me like a blast furnace right in the solar plexus. Whether Epic pushed food on me, or slimed me with sunblock, or reached out in the middle of the night to drag the blankets over my shoulder, I could not get enough of his warmth or his kindness.
Epic leaned over to whisper, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I like looking at you.”
“But you’re staring.”
“No, I’m gazing,” I corrected him. “Right now, you are the object of my affectionate gaze.”
“Really?” One eyebrow lifted. “Is that what people did before television?”
“Oh, son, that’s what people did beforeporn.”
He nodded, all innocent. “Okay, we’re kicking it old school. I like it.”
“I live to serve.”
I guessed I said that too loud because Bea’s eyes widened. “Nice.”
“Now, have I eaten enough that I may drink?” I showed him my empty salad bowl.
“Oh, good job. Yes, now you may drink.” Epic inclined his head regally.
I heard a throat clear. “Ryan. You’re back.”
I turned to find Dan and Cam standing behind me. “Hey.”
I stood up, and people hugged each other in as many permutations as it took for the whole table to acknowledge one another.
“Lonnie,” Dan said. “Muse. Seems like Ryan’s hanging out with the cool kids. You got room for us?”
