The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance by Fabiola Francisco (open ebook .TXT) 📗

lucky. After seeing other apartments my co-workers have, I hit the jackpot with this place.” My apartment has big windows in the living room that allow natural light to come in. The kitchen also has a window, and I’ve got a covered balcony where I can sit and slide open the windows to create a more open space when the weather is nice.

“You guys are staying here, right?” I look between them.

“We actually booked a hotel nearby.” Easton smiles. “It’s within walking distance.”

“No way! You have to stay here. I’ve got a sofa bed I can stay on, and you can sleep in my room.”

“No, we don’t want to put you out,” Faith shakes her head.

“You’re not, honestly. Half the nights, I end up asleep on the couch anyway.” I look at my comfy sofa. “Unless you want to… You know, keep the honeymoon going,” I joke.

Easton scrunches up his face, and Faith lets out a deep laugh. “That’s so wrong,” my brother shakes his head.

I join Faith in laughing loud until I snort, which makes me laugh even more. “I’m kidding. You’re more than welcome to stay here, but if you do want privacy, I understand as well.”

“We’ll stay at the hotel, but we plan on having you show us around. We made sure to come on a weekend, so you’d be free.”

“Yes! I can’t wait to show you all my favorite places. Let me take a shower, and we can go to a bar near here that I love. Good, cheap beer, believe it or not, and tapas. It’s paradise.” I rush into my room, grab my clothes, and take a quick shower.

I can’t believe that they’re here. So many different plans run through my mind as I wipe the steam off the bathroom mirror and brush my hair. Thank goodness I washed and straightened it this morning. Grabbing my makeup from the small organizer I have on the sink, I add the minimal makeup necessary, a bit of concealer under my eyes, a brush of mascara, and my magenta lipstick. I’m a simple gal, but there’s nothing I love more than bright lipsticks.

I step out of the shower and see Easton and Faith out in the balcony.

“It’s nice, right?” I ask them.

“Definitely. You’ve got a great view,” Faith says, and my brother nods in agreement.

“I’m proud of you, sis,” he pulls me in for a hug, the familiarity and comfort making my throat clog up with emotions.

Despite being four years apart and a man, my brother has always been there for me. While other people may wish to have a sibling the same gender as them, I wouldn’t trade Easton for a sister. Never. Besides, Faith is my sister-in-law, and while I hadn’t seen her in years, I always loved her and had a great relationship with her. That had proven to still be the case after seeing her again a year and a half ago when we spent Easter with my brother and Faith’s family in Everton.

After giving my brother and Faith more of a tour around my small apartment, we head down to Toro, the bar near my building. As we walk down the street, they comment on buildings and stores, asking me questions about the city I’ve called home the last couple of years. I love that they’re here and seeing where I live. I never thought I’d see the day they came to Spain. It’s such a long way from Everton.

We walk through the open door of Toro, moving past the crowded tables and conversations that mingle and combine in the air. Once we reach the bar, Faith’s wide eyes look around.

“This is insane.”

“Right? It’s a Friday afternoon, and it’s summer. People are out and about, having drinks and tapas before dinner.”

“You mean, they still have dinner after?” She checks the time on her phone.

“Yup, around ten in the evening.”

“Wow,” she breathes out.

“It’s crazy,” Easton adds, taking in the wooden decor, frames of bullfighters on the walls, and Serrano hams hanging from the ceiling in the bar from hooks. It’s so different than what we’re used to, and yet I fell in love with this place as soon as I stepped in. I quickly became a regular, building a friendship with the bartender.

“Do you guys want beer or wine?” I lift my eyebrows as I smile.

“Beer,” Easton says.

“Same,” Faith nods.

I wave at the bartender, who smiles and tilts his head so he can hear me. “Tres cañas,” I order three draught beers over the loud murmurs in this bar. With our drinks in hand and a plate with sautéed mushrooms and aioli potatoes, we clink our glasses together in a toast.

“This is good beer,” Easton comments, looking at the glass.

“I know. It’s pretty amazing. Try the potatoes. You’ll love them.”

We eat and drink while Easton and Faith tell me about their time in Greece, showing me more pictures than the ones they had sent while they were away. We order a second round of drinks, enjoying the extra round of tapas as well, and I tell them about work and make a plan to visit places tomorrow.

I’m on cloud nine having my family visit. It can get lonely at times, being so far from my family and friends, especially after my dad passed away three years ago. It was a shock to us all when we learned of his heart disease, and even more so watching him go. The only thing that consoles me is that I know I have him watching over me and protecting me.

I take a deep breath and nod when Faith suggests we take a picture. While Easton holds the phone in our direction, shameless selfie-style, we all smile and hold up our beers.

“Where to now?” Easton asks, clapping his hands.

“How about instead of sit-down dinner, we continue having tapas? We can go to a few different places. I’d suggest a corto instead of a full draught.”

“What’s a corto?” Faith asks.

“It’s like a mini draught, so you won’t get