The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas (novels for students .TXT) 📕

intensely. His touch twice as gentle. My eyes fluttered closed for an instant.

“I think you got all the chocolate.” My voice was so breathy that I barely recognized it. “Thanks.”

“Just wanted to be thorough,” he answered quietly as his gaze bounced from that goddamn spot close to the corner of my lips to my eyes. “Next question?”

“Best man?”

I squirmed in my seat, uneasiness replacing all the earlier tingly warmth. Perhaps because that was a topic that didn’t wake up the fuzziest of feelings in me. Or maybe because of how unsettled I was by what had just happened. I couldn’t be sure, but I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

“Daniel.” Aaron’s gaze held mine, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “He’s your ex and the groom’s brother.”

I nodded my head once, unable to do much more than that.

Aaron rearranged himself in the seat, dipping his head so we were at eye-level. “You haven’t said much else about him. Is there anything besides that, that I should know?”

He regarded me quietly, almost expectantly, and I could really tell I had all his undivided attention. Just how he had said earlier. Although this time, it wasn’t a trick. The need to open up to him and tell him everything manifested itself, making me doubt myself.

“No. That’s all.” I shifted in my seat, lowering my gaze to his hands, which were resting on his lap. “He’s my ex and Gonzalo’s older brother by a few years. Isabel and him met through us, when we started dating. And … that’s about it.”

If I were smarter, I’d tell Aaron the whole story.

But as of lately, I’d seemed to excel at making only stupid decisions. So, that was all I gave him.

In my defense, facing the catalyst of my current predicament was going to be hard enough. I did not want to spend my time talking about Daniel because that meant going back down memory lane, which had consisted of bad decisions and heartbreak.

So, no, it wasn’t something I was happy to casually chat about regardless of how crucial it was for the show we were about to put on. Even if a part of me refused to acknowledge just how small I would feel, showing Aaron that piece of myself, and even when I knew that I was lying to him. Lying again. It was a lie by omission, sure, but it had the potential to bite me in the ass later. Just like any lie would.

“You can trust me,” he said softly.

Maybe I could. But that didn’t mean trusting Aaron with that would ever come easy to me. That fragment of my life had been locked up for a long time—perhaps so long that chances were, the lock had grown rusty and withered and there was no working it back open. That would explain how I had gotten here. Somewhere across the Atlantic Ocean, sitting next to a man I usually struggled to share the same air with without wanting to throw something at his hard head, but who had somehow happened to be the one man in New York City in the position to fill in as my made-up boyfriend.

“What’s my abuela’s name?” I kept my gaze low, anywhere but on his face. I didn’t think I wanted to get a single clue as to what he was feeling at that moment. I didn’t think it would make me feel good.

“Catalina,” Aaron said my name with something that sounded a lot like pity.

I hated it. “Incorrect,” I snapped. “My abuela’s name is not Catalina, Aaron. You need to know the name of my only living grandmother.”

I was deflecting, but that didn’t change the facts. He really had to know the name of my abuela.

“So?” I pressed. “What’s my abuela’s name?”

Aaron dropped his head on the plush headrest, closing his eyes for a second. “Your abuela’s name is María, and she doesn’t speak one word of English, which shouldn’t trick me into thinking that she is harmless. If by any chance she shoves food in my direction, I’m to keep my mouth shut and eat.” Aaron’s words rolled off his tongue, as if he had been practicing this speech for weeks.

“Impressive.” I nodded my head.

He took a deep breath and looked at me, pleading. “We have gone through this a thousand times, and you are giving me a headache.” His eyebrows knit. “You need to relax. I need to rest. Let’s do that. Do you think you can be quiet for a few hours?”

“First of all, it was only three times.” I showed him with my fingers, just to be thorough. “And we are not even done with the last round of questions. And secondly, I am completely and absolutely relaxed. I am cooler than a cucumber, Blackford. I just want to be sure that you don’t screw up and mix up basic info. You are my boyfriend—” I stopped myself, hearing what had just left my mouth. “That is the part you will play in this whole Spanish love deception. My made-up boyfriend. So, you should at least know the names of my immediate family, so no one can sniff that you and I are not a real thing. And trust me, they’ll know if you so much as hesitate.”

That earned me a scowl.

“Yes. Do not look at me like that,” I told him, pointing my finger at his frown. “In Spain, cousins and second cousins are immediate family too, okay? Same goes for uncles, aunts, and great-uncles and great-aunts. Sometimes, neighbors too.” I paused in thought. “Oh, maybe we should go over the physical descriptions again—”

“No,” Aaron cut off my suggestion, his voice sounding more frustrated by the second. “What we need to do is rest. And if you don’t want to do that, then you should let me rest. Do you want me to be all grumpy when we land?”

“You are always grumpy.”

His scowl deepened. “Do you want me to be so tired that I’ll be extra grumpy