The zap of electricity that shoots through my fingers and up my arm at the contact is definitely new though. Somehow I manage to play it cool as a cucumber, but Travis, not quite so much. And I can’t tell if his expression this time is because he’s worried about the touching in public, or if it’s something else. Did he feel the electricity too?

“I’ve got to...” he starts, scratching at his facial hair. “Dessert. Kitchen.”

“Right,” I say, letting him go.

Tonight will be interesting.

CHAPTER SIX

TRAVIS

Tonight is going to be a disaster. What were we thinking? We can’t pull this off. Not with the way I almost lost it at the slightest physical contact from Brenden earlier. I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that we were at the inn and someone from town could’ve seen us. All I could think was...

Woah.

I already knew his touch did things to me that it shouldn’t. But for years, I’ve been able to ignore the effect he has on me, because I know he’s only ever meant his touches to be friendly. Patting my back as a thank you, gripping my arm when he’s excited, occasionally poking at the corner of my mouth when I’m frowning too hard—those things I can handle. One graze of a fingertip, though, and it felt like my insides melted.

My brain knows the intimate touch was only him pretending we’re together. But now I need to pretend too, and I hope my dick and heart also get the memo that that’s all it is. Pretend.

Stepping onto Brenden’s porch, I hesitate before knocking. Maybe May’s grandparents expect me to have a key. But that’s irrelevant anyway, because I’m sure Brenden left the door unlocked like always. Should I go right in as if I’m here all the time? Can’t hurt, I guess.

Okay, it’s showtime. Turn on boyfriend mode.

My boyfriend mode is pretty rusty, considering I haven’t been anyone’s boyfriend in over a decade, but I can do this. For Brenden.

I reach for the doorknob, and my assumption about it being unlocked is proven correct. As soon as I step inside the house, though, Brenden comes flying over and grabs my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, making me question if I did the right thing.

“Please save me,” he hisses dramatically in my ear.

“What?”

“They’re already unhappy with me because they don’t like my tea selection.”

I cock my head at him. “You drink tea?”