“Excellent. It’s a deal.” She offers her left hand and I take it in my own, the hand I’ve been taught my whole life is the wrong one to offer.

I try to ignore that it feels remarkably right. “Deal.”

· ELEVEN ·

Bea

Jamie and I step outside the coffee shop, blinking against the harsh late-morning sun.

While I’ve turned so that my back is to the road and our antagonists across the street, Jamie faces the sunlight head-on, squinting down at me.

“They’re watching, aren’t they?” I ask.

“They are.” He hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “I assume we should part on some kind of amorous gesture?”

“Yes.” I can’t hold back my smile. “An ‘amorous gesture’ makes sense.”

He squints harder as the sun’s light intensifies. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not, Jamie. When I didn’t know it was you, I really liked your twenty-point Scrabble words. My vocabulary expanded immensely this week, thanks to Notorious NRB.”

He glances down at the ground and slides his glasses up his nose. “Well. All right, then.” A splash of pink darkens his cheeks.

“It doesn’t have to be much,” I tell him. “We’re not going to make out or anything.”

He peers up beneath smoky lashes that fade to a burnished bronze tip. “Good idea. Too much too soon would raise their suspicions.”

“Okay. So.” I clear my throat. “Here goes.”

Taking a step closer, I sidle up to him until our toes touch. Slowly, I bring my hands to his face, cupping his jaw, the slight rasp of his facial hair tickling my fingertips. I shut my eyes, feeling with my sculptor’s hands the angles and planes of his face. Then, while I have a sliver of courage still guiding my touch, I stretch up on tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek. To his jaw. To the corner of his mouth.

Jamie’s breath stills in his chest, tension coiling his body. And just as I begin to doubt what I’ve done, wonder if I’ve taken it too far, his hands slip around my waist, steadying me. Holding me close. He turns his face so slightly, until his mouth brushes the shell of my ear.

And for a moment, I forget why this is happening. I shut my eyes, imagining his mouth wet and warm against the sensitive stretch of my neck, his teeth grazing the line of my collarbone, leaving a long, blooming bite.

“They watched every second,” he says, shattering the fantasy.

“Good.” My voice is breathy and uneven, which of course has nothing to do with the fact that my skin crackles with energy, with the awareness of Jamie’s body throwing heat and his despicably huffable scent.

He pulls away, eyes holding mine. “Goodbye, Bea.”

“Goodbye, Jamie.”