She was still twitching against my palm, as though she was fighting the desire to move away. I kept my hand on her, letting her feel my heat, the weight of my touch. “All actors have rehearsals. That’s what this is.”

With a quick, efficient nod, she reached for the avocados. “You ever do any real acting?”

“Me?” I laughed at the absurd image. “No. Wait—scratch that. There’s definitely an element of acting in boxing. Playing it up for the crowd before a bout, promotional crap. The shit you do to psyche out your opponent.”

“You mean when you guys go nose to nose and say terrible things to each other?” She seemed amused.

“I keep forgetting you’ve never watched me fight.” My ego was just fine but, without even trying, she was surprisingly good at taking it down a notch. “Yeah, sweetheart, that’s what I meant. But,” I added, “I hated that bullshit. It used to make me laugh when a guy got in my face and went off on some tangent. Shut up and fight already, man.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled. “That’s exactly what I think whenever I see one of those clips.” Because Parker hated bullshit as much as I did. Which was a bit of a revelation. Her smile grew sly. “Also, I have seen you fight. I watched a YouTube video.”

Surprise licked down my center. “You did, huh?”

Her nose wrinkled when she grimaced with apparent embarrassment over her confession. “It was…illuminating.”

“Illuminating?” I chuckled, but inside I was starting to squirm as much as Parker. What the hell did that mean? Had she been turned off by it? Turned on?

Her fingertip touched the edge of my sleeve where it met my skin. I felt it down to my balls. “You were fierce, relentless. The way you’d take those blows and just keep at it.” Her breath hitched. “I don’t know how you did it.”

I could tell her, but she was standing there all soft and open to me, her eyes holding something that felt strangely close to admiration. I didn’t know what to make of that. Didn’t really matter because I was growing aware of other things: her smoke and roses scent, the fact that we were standing close enough that our bare arms brushed.

The touch of her warm skin against mine raised the little hairs along my arms. I had to break this hold she had on me. I cleared my throat and copped a cocky tone. “Like I said, it’s all for show.”

With a wide, fake-ass grin, I swooped down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She flinched, lips parted with a gasp.

I turned away so I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her again. “Gotta make dinner.”

“Are you going to be doing things like that all night?” she asked after a minute.