“You don’t owe me anything.” He wrinkles his nose. “We’re friends. And when friends get stuck in sticky situations, they help each other out.”
Hearing him say we’re friends causes my heart to twinge. “What you’ve done is equal to if not more than what Daphne would’ve done.”
The muscles in his face twitch. “Does that catapult me to the top of your friends list?”
“Hmm... I don’t know yet. But for now, let’s say you’re solidly in the middle of the pack.”
He starts walking again. “What will it take for me to top your sister?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Daphne’s a special case. We’ve been besties since the day I was born. Twenty-nine years. I’ll have to get back to you.” I take another bite of my churro. “What about me? Where do Isit on your friends list?”
“In the top five.”
“Out of . . .?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he quips, biting into his own sugary treat.
I huff. Well, it has to be at least five people long. I’m probably below Frankie and Gemma. And maybe Tim. Not that I blame him. We’re only going on knowing one another for a few weeks.
“What I will tell you, Ava, is that every day we spend together, you’re earning more brownie points. Who knows, there’s a chance you could rise to the top of the leaderboard.”
My pulse races. “I like those odds.”
As we continue through the maze of Toledo’s streets, my mood improves. I forget about Dylan and begin to imagine myself asFernando’s numero uno friend. After three straight days with this man, I’m starting to get a good feel for his quirks and mannerisms.
Take this morning’s trip from our hotel to Toledo for example. His driving routine is always the same. He climbs into the car, ducks his head, attempts to scoot the seat back an inch, and cleans his sunglasses before reaching for his seat belt. Once I’ve shuffled into the car, he’ll hand me a coffee and ask how I slept.
The smile he flashes me when I grunt that I slept well sends a shiver up my spine, fully waking me up if the coffee hasn’t done its job. The corners of his eyelids crinkle, his top lip disappears slightly, and he flashes me a wide smile.
My favorite moment, however, is when he rolls his Rs as he says, “Wonderful, Doctor. Let’s hit the road,” and slides his sunglasses on. I could listen to that man speak for hours on end. Who needs a British accent when you have a Spanish one!
As I look over at him under my lashes, my throat goes dry. Yesterday, I thought the fake-dating thing would be a piece of cake. Well, I should’ve known I was lying to myself. I’m incredibly attracted to him. I just hope I can guard my heart and keep from falling for him.
Chapter Fourteen
It’s day four of our road trip. The fatigue from our ambitious schedule is beginning to wear on both of us. We were so exhausted after yesterday that we decided to sleep in this morning. Madrid is only about an hour away. There’s no need to rush.
We arrived at the train station around ten and are now en route to Spain’s capital city.
“I know it’s more than three weeks away, but have you ever been to a Christmas market?” Fernando asks as he places his phone on the tray table.
“Not unless a school craft fair counts. Remember”—I point to myself—“this is my first big trip overseas. Christmas markets aren’t a big thing in America. And until very, very recently, I didn’t do things outside my comfort zone.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Care to share why you’re not comfortable at a Christmas market? Do you not enjoy the holiday?”
I had no intentions of ever saying anything to anyone about it, but Fernando has a way about getting me to share things about myself that I’d never willingly let anyone else in on. Thereisn’t a barrier between us. I instinctively know I can trust him to be respectful and not tease me the way Dylan might have.
“I like Christmas. But I’ve never enjoyed the lonely feeling it brings.” I stare out the window at the passing scenery. It looks like we’re in for a rainy day as droplets of water hit the train’s windows, creating abstract patterns.
“What do you mean?”
I continue looking away. “The holidays are about being surrounded by your friends and loved ones, but when I lived in Colorado, it was isolating. I’d only be able to go home for two or three days at Thanksgiving or Christmas. It reminded me of what I was missing. I was always on my own, away from everyone I cared about.”
“What about you know who?”
“Dylan was from Colorado.” I keep my voice even. “He wasn’t around during our breaks. He always went home.”
“And he didn’t think to invite you?” Fernando’s voice is growing raspy.
