“You two are mean.” I kicked Elijah under the table and slapped Ren across the head at the same time. Their curses lit up our table and put a giant smile on Navin’s face.

Before I could say another word, an unexpected shiver tickled down my spine and a sudden awareness drew my eyes toward the bar entrance. My breath caught in my throat as my gaze collided with Rhys Morgan’s.

What the hell?

Of course he would come to the bar on the one night I just happened to be there.

And he wasn’t alone.

Dean was there too.

As Rhys strode toward me, his expression unreadable, my heart raced and my palms grew clammy. It had been five days since the paintball exercise. Five days of a complete lack of focus on my part. Not only because I had come to the uncomfortable realization that I had a humongous crush on the guy I was paying to date me (rookie mistake!), but because Fairchild had invited us to a garden party tomorrow. Jackson, with obvious discomfort, had made it clear that my invitation to this party was contingent upon Rhys escorting me.

Rhys had, of course, agreed to come but I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that I’d vowed to keep myself physically and emotionally distant from this man and how impossible it would be to maintain that vow when we had to continue to pretend to be in a relationship in front of all my colleagues.

As Rhys stopped at our table, I let out a shaky exhalation I knew he didn’t miss. His eyes narrowed on my mouth before he gave me what might have been a tender smile, if I thought for a second he had tender feelings toward me.

Which I knew he didn’t.

He was a very good actor.

Something he’d proven when he kissed the hell out of me at paintball, only to be completely unaffected by it.

My knees were still like jelly when I’d gotten home that night.

The big jerk.

The text he’d sent me this evening was also fresh in my mind. Apparently, he felt the need to remind me he was getting paid to escort me. And kiss me. While I was emotionally and physically discombobulated by his superior kissing talent, he was clearly concerned I might be getting the wrong idea about our “relationship.”

Like I needed the reminder I was as far from his type as a woman could be.

Some of my irritation must’ve registered on my face because he grinned, and it was filled with mischief. “Hey, sweetheart.” He bent down and kissed me full on the lips, quick, hard, and pulled back before I could react. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be in my part of town tonight.”

“Uh … I didn’t know.”

“And who are you?” Ren asked belligerently, reminding me we were not alone.