But they were in a public park where anyone could come upon them. They wanted people to think they were a couple, but this wasn’t the kind of notoriety either of them needed.
“Taylor,” Jamar breathed against her lips. The soft mewl she emitted shot directly to his groin. “Taylor, let’s get out of here. We need to at least wait until we’re in the car.”
He felt her body go rigid a second before her head jerked back, her eyes wide, shocked and disoriented.
He started to make a joke, but something in her expression stopped him. She looked spooked as hell.
“Taylor? Taylor, please don’t freak out on me. It’s okay.”
“No.” Her voice shook. “No, it isn’t.” She unwound her legs and slid down his body. “I can’t do this with my clients. Ineverdo this with clients.”
“Shit,” he breathed. She was totally freaking out. Her hands shook as she pulled her braids free from the band that held them at the base of her head and then tied them up again.
Jamar leaned his head back against the tree, letting the rain that had eased into a light drizzle pepper his face.
“We have to remember the playbook,” she said. “Public displays of affection should only occur when performing for the public.”
“Do you really still think that way?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the need still crashing through him.
One would think he’d asked if her mother had five heads and a tail.
“Yes, of course. The whole point is to convince people that we’re a couple.” She stretched her arms out. “Do you see any people here?”
She ran her palms down her face and growled. “Iknewthis would happen. Even though I promised myself this wouldnothappen.”
“What wouldn’t happen? The two of us kissing? That’s part of your playbook.”
“Don’t get cute with me, Twenty-Three. You know what I’m talking about. Look, you’re hot, okay? You aresofucking hot, and if you were not my client, I would be climbing you like one of these fucking trees. But youaremy client, and I can’t go there with you.”
He pushed away from the tree. “There’s nothing wrong with the two of us—”
“No!” She cut him off. “Just stop, Jamar. I can’t.Wecan’t.” She broke eye contact for a second before looking at him again, her eyes imploring him to understand. “The only way this will work is if we stick to our original game plan. None of this is real. It’s all a charade, a way to cover up the lie I told that reporter, okay?”
The trembling plea in her voice caused a sharp pang to twist through his gut. It was so fucking unfair. Why insist on sticking to this fake relationship story when they both wanted it to be more?
Jamar ached to ask her this very thing; instead he said, “Yeah, okay. You’re right. It isn’t real.”
They were both telling a lie.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Taylor reached over and lifted a sambusa from the compostable takeout container on Samiah’s coffee table. The spicy lentil-stuffed puffed pastry was by far her favorite of the half-dozen dishes they’d ordered, although everything she’d eaten tonight had surpassed her expectations. Kudos to London. Taylor doubted she would have ever tried Ethiopian cuisine had her friend not suggested it.
Loud, popping sounds rang out from Taylor’s phone.
“What the hell was that?” London screeched.
“Sorry.” Taylor laughed. “My niece is sending me a text. She’s a firecracker, thus, the ringtone.” She opened Fredericka’s text message and felt her stomach twist. “Oh, shit,” Taylor groused.
“Something wrong?” This from Samiah.
Taylor turned her cell phone so they could both see the screen.
“My niece just sent a video of me and Jamar huddled up together on a bench downtown Saturday night.” She flipped the phone back and looked at the screen. “You gotta admit, we’re a cute couple.”
Another text message came through.
Auntie Jesamyn wants to know what’s going on.
