KISSCAM.
The camera pans across couples in the stands. Teenagers. Elderly pairs. A mom and dad with a toddler who smashes his face between theirs.
The crowd cheers every time.
Levi goes very still.
“You look terrified,” I say.
“I don’t perform on command.”
“You’re literally a public servant.”
“That’s different.”
The camera swings closer. Row by row. Seat by seat. My pulse picks up.
“Relax,” I say, though I’m the one gripping his arm now. “The odds?—”
The camera stops.
On us.
Our faces explode across the stadium screen.
The crowd erupts.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“Of course,” he mutters.
The chanting starts almost immediately.
“KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!”
I glance up at the screen. My face is flushed. Levi looks like he’s preparing for battle. The entire stadium is watching. The church ladies are practically vibrating with joy behind us.
I lean closer to him, voice low. “We don’t have to.”
His jaw tightens.
“Yeah,” he replies quietly. “We do.”
The words hit deeper than they should. The crowd keeps chanting. Levi turns toward me slowly.
My stomach flips.
“This is just for optics,” I say under my breath.
He doesn’t answer but his hand slides to the side of my face. The stadium noise fades into a distant roar as he leans in. The first brush of his mouth against mine is controlled. Like he’s still honoring the rules. It lasts half a second. Then something shifts. His fingers tighten at my jaw. My hand fists into his shirt automatically. The kiss deepens.
It’s real.
Too real.
The world tilts.
I taste popcorn and summer heat and everything we never said.
