“You’re definitely going to get it.” Pulling to a stop, she presses our foreheads together. Freshman year, I did this to help her through an anxiety attack, and now it’s our thing. “Get in there and be the hottest, smartest, most capable agent the world has ever seen.”
Buoyed by her encouragement, I grab the handle and blow her a kiss. “Love you big, and good luck today!”
“Love you bigger, and back at you!”
As she drives away, I feel a flicker of validation. Someone else sees it too. Somethingisgoing on with Cade.
My fingertips barely brush the doorknob when I hear a gasp that stops me in my tracks.
“Do my eyes deceive me?”
When I turn around, Cade’s curiosity pins me like a spotlight. Crossed arms bulge, emphasizing the bulk of muscle that makes up his biceps. I bet they could hold me down—
Remember your rules,Shaylene.
Touching his arm at the player development meeting seemed harmless, but my hand tingled for the rest of the day. When I got home, I added new rules to our pink sticky note.
Number five: no touching him.
Number six: no time alone.
Number seven: no ogling him. Even if he looks devastating in his glasses.
I roll my eyes. “You’ve seen me without braids before, Cade.”
“Sure, but that was years ago.” Three confident steps close the space between us, and when he drops his head, those stupid glasses slide down his nose. “Just let me look at you for a moment. It’s been too long.”
Being the object of Cade’s attention is equal parts thrilling and terrifying. He studies me closely, eyes sweeping over my face with intense focus. They linger just a beat too long on my lips, and he sighs, brushing my skin with a cool bite of mint.
Before I can create a new six-feet-apart rule, cherry-red locs tied into Bantu knots peek around the door.
“You’re here! Hi! Cade! Ah! I’m Lula, the owner of Loc & Key. We’re huge fans!” The skin-tight dress wrapped around her matches her hair. She’s the epitome of an exclamation mark, limber, bold, and excitable. “And Shay! Thank you for setting this up!” She grabs my hand for what I assume is a handshake, but she yanks me inside and keeps my hand captive until we reach the lobby. “What can I get you two? Coffee? Coke? Tea? Mimosa?”
Cade grins. “Unsweet tea for me and Diet Coke for her, please.” When Lula scampers away, he chuckles. “She’s full of spirit.”
Which reminds me, I need an energy drink.
After digging through my bag, I hand a sheet of paper to Cade. “I prepared questions for the interview today, but I need your input beforeI give them to Lula. If there are any questions you don’t approve of, I’ll remove them.”
Cade’s eyes never leave mine. “You want my opinion?”
“Of course. You’re the one answering them.”
He blinks, and then blinks again. “Oh.”
God, I hate that word. I never know if it’s good or bad, and the weird look on his face makes me think it’s a bad one.
“I’ve never been asked to screen questions before,” he admits.
I pause. “Never?”
“Never.”
My vision narrows, fading everything except the fury inside. What kind of agent doesn’t let his client have autonomy over what they’re asked?
“No question will ever be publicized without your approval. Your comfort and consent will always come first.”
The crease between his brow eases. “Always?”
