I smacked her back the way my mom did whenever it happened to me.

The coughs slowed. “Sorry . . . fine. I’m . . . fine. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“. . . People . . . staring.”

“Let them.”

My hand remained on her back, massaging in small circles. Only noticed I was still touching her when she said, “Thank you. That feels nice.”

The room brightened. Those three words flipped a switch, heightening my perception. Strawberry-scented body spray, boobs stretching her sweater, her thigh brushing against mine. All the stimuli hit me like a quick-handed boxer.

My jeans constricted suddenly, almost painfully. I snatched my hand away from her, reflex tugging the hem of my jacket, concealing the embarrassing insta-bulge.

Frowning, her eyebrows knitting closer together, she said, “Are you okay?”

My horror lasted a second, if that. Kiera looked past me. I twisted slightly, turning my unwelcome erection away from the object of my desire, and found a stricken Jameer, who looked as sick as he was supposed to be pretending to be. He shouldn’t be here. This was not part of the plan.

“Hey,” he said, “maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“What? Why?” This was so far off script my knee-jerk reaction was rage, until I followed the panicked glances Jameer flicked toward the restaurant entrance.

Colossus Turner and three of his thick-necked wrestling teammates were coming our way.

My anger quickly became terror.

The wrestlers arrived and the scene unspooled with painful slowness before me.

Colossus kept examining all the players present. The social calculus didn’t make any sense. Kiera wasn’t on a date with two dudes. Nothing here seemed romantic. I kept tugging at my jacket, willing my unresponsive hard-on down.

Finally, cautiously, Colossus said, “Del. Jameer.”

Jameer said nothing. I tipped my chin slightly.

Colossus said, “Kiera, can we talk outside?”

“No!” she snapped. “Go talk to your kid, or your baby mama!”

The smallest wrestler in the crew laughed lightly, and Colossus saved his most aggressive look of the night for that guy. He smoothed the annoyance off his face before addressing Kiera. Mostly. “Come on. I know you stuck believing all these lies about me, but I miss you, bae. I just want one minute.”

“You don’t stop, do you?” It sounded like another refusal, but the inch of space between us vanished. Kiera nudged me, pushing me from the booth. I’d have to stand up to let her out. My dick was . . . still . . . hard!

Not any erection, mind you. Harder than a missile. If I stood up, I’d look like the textbook definition of “perpendicular.”

“Del,” Kiera nudged harder, “let me out.”

I nudged back. “Uh, are you sure?”

Colossus’s head cocked, the neutral facade he’d maintained cracked. “Stay out of this, Del. Ain’t none of your business.”

“No,” Kiera said, settling back into her seat, “he’s right. You’re not going to bully me into hearing your tired, trifling excuses. You should be at Taylor’s changing diapers.”