“No thanks. We’re good,” Jamar replied before Taylor could say anything.
“Not even cool,” Taylor said, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. But she didn’t object, which told Jamar all he needed to know about her desire to return to the Escape Room.
They exited the automatic doors and walked out onto Blanco Street.
“You have to admit that was fun,” Taylor said as she buried her chin inside the collar on her jean jacket.
The night had been chilly when they left Jamar’s house, but not cold enough for a heavy coat. The temperature had dropped considerably while they were rescuing their subject. Jamar shrugged out of his brushed suede sport coat.
“I will admit that we have different ideas when it comes to fun. Take that trip to Whole Foods, for example.” He draped his coat over her shoulders. “But if you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters.”
She glanced down at the coat, and then up at him, regarding him with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “Thank you,” she said.
Jamar acknowledged her response with a nod and fought against playing the fool who read a thousand things into a simplethank you. This was fiction. Fiction being carried out with the sole purpose of convincing the public that he and Taylor Powell were a couple.
“So,” she continued. “Did I hear you say tonight is all aboutmyenjoyment?”
“That’s how dates usually work.”
“Actually, there’s a better chance of aseconddate happening ifbothparties enjoy themselves.”
He peered down at her, an easy grin spreading across his lips. “I’m pretty sure I’m getting a second date.”
“Cocky bastard.” She laughed.
“Confident, not cocky. And only with things I know are a sure bet.”
“I’ve noticed that,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “I figured all professional football players had to be conceited—how could they not be, right? You can’t reach such an elite level and not be full of yourself. But you’re not as arrogant as I first pegged you.”
“You may want to hold off on your decision. You’ve only known me a week,” he reminded her.
Her sharp laugh melded into the boisterous sounds of the city.
Clasping his jacket over her chest with one hand, she captured his fingers with the other and swung their hands back and forth between them as they turned onto Sixth Street. The picture of the perfect couple.
Jamar reminded himself again that this wasn’t real.
But it sure as hell felt real. Especially when she smiled at him.
“Since you didn’t enjoy the Escape Room, what would you have rather we do tonight?” Taylor asked.
“The Escape Room was fine.”
“You’re lying.” She bumped him with her shoulder. “Come on. I want to know what your idea of the perfect date is.”
He quirked a brow. “The PG version?”
“G-rated.”
Jamar snorted. “Wereallyhave different ideas when it comes to fun.”
She bumped him again. “Perfect G-rated date. Go.”
“Um, let’s see,” he said, giving the impression that he was really thinking hard on this. “The tacos we had were good, even though you gave me that look when I asked for extra cotija cheese.”
“I did not give you a look.”
“You gave me a look.”
