Page 42 of Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“Oh yeah. IMDB is my bible and Lord of the Rings is the best book-adapted-to-film series. I’m a cinephile.”

“Oh my God. Ew. Don’t say it like that.” She purses her lips in the most adorable way.

Adorable. God help me because I think my balls have been permanently detached from my body.

I cross my arms. “There’s nothing wrong with being a cinephile.”

“Please, just say you like movies. That’s my PR advice for you. The last thing I need is someone posting how you’re another kind of ‘phile.’”

I drop my head back and laugh. “Fuck no.”

She shakes her head and laughs with me. “Seriously, you need to start getting ready. I don’t want to be late.”

“Can we reschedule for never?”

“Sorry, I’m booked out an eternity from now, so this is my only free slot.” She taps her watchless wrist.

“Of course, you are. Wouldn’t you say that’s rather convenient?”

“Anything related to you is anything but convenient.” She rises from the other side of the sectional. “Are you ready for what I have planned?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Perfect! Get dressed in the suit I placed in your room while you were sleeping.” She covers her mouth with her hand, but her eyes betray her amusement.

I eye her skeptically as I enter my room. An Easter bunny suit scares the shit out of me, with huge eyes and a neon green vest covered in fluorescent eggs.

“Surprise! An Easter egg hunt!” She claps her hands together exaggeratedly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. A suit? Seriously?”

“I know. Isn’t it cool? You have no idea how hard it was to find one of those on such short notice.” She leans against my dresser.

“Why can’t I dress like a normal person?”

“Because you’re hosting the event and kids want a real Easter bunny.”

“Bunnies don’t even lay eggs. This is stupid as fuck.”

She shrugs, ignoring my turmoil. “Stupid but effective. We’re raising money to fund local playgrounds in Barcelona’s most underserved areas.”

Damn, I nearly give into her stupid bunny suit request based on the way her eyes light up at the idea of donating money to children in need.

Nearly being the essential word.

“I’m not wearing that. I refuse.” I shake my head.

She wobbles her lip on command and clasps her hands together in mock prayer. “Please? Think of the little kids. They’ll want to take pictures with a real bunny and have fun. Plus, the parents are donating lots of money to find eggs on the racetrack with you.”

“What do I get out of this?”

“Besides fundraising for kids from impoverished neighborhoods who deserve new, safe playground equipment?”

When she puts it that way, I sound like the biggest dick. But the bunny suit is horrendous, and one whiff in its direction tells me it smells offensive. “I get to cash in on one favor from you.”

“What kind of favor?” Elena’s eyes widen.

“Not the sexual kind based on the look of horror in your eyes. Anything is on the table, as long as it isn’t illegal.”