Eight

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My mother thought people should dress, speak, and carry themselves in accordance with their status. Although she and Dad donated generous amounts to several charities and never bragged about their wealth there was no mistaking my parents for a middle-class couple.

Because I was so used to rich people's showy habits, Asher being one of the most famous motorcycle racers in the world came as a huge surprise. If Rys hadn't brought up his friend's latest race, I would've continued thinking Asher was an ordinary guy who wore simple clothes and laughed at Rys's jokes while affectionately hugging his girlfriend's shoulders.

After trying a ton of Spanish delicacies Asher and Kaia brought, my stomach was so full the dress felt tight around my middle. As we settled on the loveseats on the patio, soft music played as a soundtrack to our evening, and candles burned in the center of the low table.

Kaia was in Asher's arms. In the three hours we'd been hanging out at Rys's place, he didn't let go of her for longer than a few minutes while Rys and I acted platonic as if other people's presence put distance between us.

Rys poured the dessert wine Asher brought from Malaga in Spain for Kaia and me. I'd never heard of it, much less tried it, but instantly liked its toffee caramel aroma and sweet taste.

"So, when's the next race?" Rys asked his friend, filling his glass with whiskey. For someone who only did pilates and yoga — a.k.a. me — racing seemed extra exciting. Dangerous, too. Kaia probably went crazy with worry each time her boyfriend raced.

Asher moved his tumbler in circles. "August. That's why we wanted to come here this week before training restarts. We can hardly ever relax during the season."

Rys scratched his chin. "Yeah, that's true. Let me know if you need anything else while you're here."

"No, we have everything," Asher said. "The hotel's perfect. Thank you."

"It's the least I could do for a friend."

"How did you meet?" I asked, surprising myself. I usually kept quiet if I could, letting others speak.

Rys took a drink of his Macallan and rested the glass on the arm of the loveseat. "It was in Spain. I was living there at the time, learning about renewable energy sources and supervising the construction of two hotels, and met Asher at an event."

"And the rest is history." Asher raised his tumbler. "¡Salud!"

I already knew it meant cheers. We drank, and Kaia covered her yawn with her palm as she left her empty glass on the table.

"Sleepy?" Asher asked, kissing her temple.

She smiled at him. "Still jet lagged, I guess."

"¿Nos vamos?"

"He asked if they should leave," Rys whispered so only I would hear.

Kaia nodded. Asher looked at us with an apologetic smile. "We'll head to the hotel if you don't mind."

Rys pushed himself to standing. "Sure. Let me call you a cab."

"No, don't. We'll walk," Asher said. "I'll get my bike tomorrow. Take care of it, Delano, and don't you dare crash it."

Laughter spouted from Rys's lips. "I have mine to crash. Thanks for coming. Call me tomorrow when you decide to stop by."

Asher hugged him and then me. Kaia did the same. Her embrace was warm and comforting, like one of a good friend. Although we'd only spent one evening together, I liked her.

"Lyra," she said as her boyfriend and Rys were exchanging a few words in a low voice. "Would you give me your number? I'll give you mine. I wanted to go shopping in town while Ash is at a meeting tomorrow and thought you and I could go together."

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