There were cones blocking the sidewalk at Sixth and Guadalupe, so they changed direction, walking down toward Lady Bird Lake. When they came upon Republic Square, Jamar suggested they grab a seat on a bench so they could finish their ice cream.

He wanted to ask more about her family but didn’t know how without it seeming as if he was prying. Fact is, he was prying. He was intrigued by that hint of vulnerability he’d heard in her voice as she talked about her dad. He wanted to know what was behind it, and why someone who exuded so much confidence would allow her family to reduce her business to a “little” fitness thing. It didn’t gel with the fierce, self-assured woman who barked out orders like a drill sergeant.

“Hey.” He waited for her to look up from her ice cream. “Don’t let them get to you,” Jamar said. “Your family,” he clarified. “You’re good at what you do. Don’t let anyone make you feel as if you’re wasting your time.”

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes softening with a look of genuine gratitude. “I won’t.”

His eyes dropped to her lips.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t look at me like you want to kiss me.”

“It’s hard not to look at you like I want to kiss you,” he admitted. “Especially if we’re supposed to convince people that we’re really a couple. In fact,” he said, brushing back two of her braids, “kissing you should be part of the playbook, shouldn’t it? Is the public really supposed to believe I would spend an evening like this with you and not kiss you?”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. The low, raspy tone of her voice resonated like a tuning fork through his body. She leaned toward him, then pulled back. “Don’t lose your head here, Twenty-Three. This is all for show. Remember that.”

He caught her chin in his hand and pulled her closer. “Just because it’s pretend doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.”

The first brush of her lips against his felt exactly how Jamar expected it would feel. Like heaven.

it’s pretend it’s pretend it’s pretend

The mantra scrolled across his brain, but with each subtle give of her pliant mouth, his ability to decipher fact from fiction dissipated. He grazed her bottom lip, a faint testing of his tongue, challenging how far she would let him go.

He needed more from her. One clue. The barest indication. He silently pleaded for a sign that she was into this. That this wasn’t just an act. That the sensation of their lips coming together, the restrained yet hungry caress, affected her too.

Just as her mouth finally opened for him, a flurry of nearby giggles broke the spell that had woven around them.