His hot stare thawed my frozen fingers. My heart thumped, urging me closer.
“Maybe I want someone more down-to-earth,” I said, smoothing tufts of his hair. “Maybe I always have. I just never thought they were interested.”
His gaze flicked to my lips, and steam slipped through his.
Part of me wanted to wrap my arms around his meaty shoulders and kiss him senseless. The other part was desperate for him to be the one to cross this line into a physical aspect of this relationship. Well,fakerelationship.
He glanced at the window, and the moment passed. His family. Yeah. This was all for them.
“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” I forced a laugh and looked away. “We can’t even agree if we’re compatible. I’ll just see you at work. Bye, Zack.” I reached for the car door, and so did he. Our hands clasped in the cold.
Of course he wanted to open it for me.
“I’ve got it,” I said, yanking the door open.
“Well, I’ve got you,” he said, and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“A real gentleman would—”
Before I could finish the thought, he yanked me flush against him and kissed me hard.
The shock punched through my chest with the decisive click of a sensor gun. Warmth flared against my back and coated my insides. Zack. Kiss. There wasn’t any tongue, just bold, fuck-worthy intention of lip movement.
Two seconds later, he pulled away. I swayed, my lips tingling from the stimulation.
His strong arms flexed around my waist. “Sorry, Nic. Guess I’m not much of a gentleman.”
Well, I wasn’t much of a lady, based on how much I wanted to tangle tongues. Even his chaste kiss had rendered me as mute as a mannequin. What prompted him to do this?
A breeze wafted against the curtains. Was that PDA for his family’s benefit?
“Okay,” I squeaked.
He drew back, hunched his shoulders, and stormed inside, wiping his fist across his lips.
Did he…wipe away our kiss?
I drove home on autopilot. My mouth tingled more than when I’d tried lip-plumping gloss. Everything from high school orientation to our goodbye flew through my brain. This was supposed to be a game. A play. I was supposed to be in on it. So, why was my heart raging like we’d actually formed a relationship?
He’d said he didn’t want something real. But that kiss… It must’ve been the heat of the moment, something to compensate for our semi-argument in front of his family. He must’ve gone from seeing me as the shy, nothing-girl to the vain, materialistic model who got into bar fights over men. Maybe I’d unintentionally made that my brand. But I was so much more than that.
I tightened my grip on my phone as I powered into my place.
My brand was fun, wasn’t it? I could be a bright part of someone’s day. His, even. I posted my outfit, the snow, and the cringe-worthy singing video with dry humor captions. The hearts and laugh emojis flooded in. Positive nothingness. My fingers shook every time my notifications went off. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t even going to check in?
I guessed I could distract myself with clients. Nyx was fine, though. She didn’t need a rebrand. I uploaded a clip of my bare feet dancing to a classic rock song and captioned it: Who wants the next dance?
A message hit my inbox.
I sighed. How was it that the term of endearment from my real ex-boyfriend seemed less affectionate than Zack calling me 'Nic?'
My phone pinged. Could it be him?
I swiped to open the message, and he was on the thread.
