He leans forward, grinning now like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “You laugh with your whole face. It’s loud and real. It makes other people want to laugh too.”
I blink again. “Wow. That was… surprisingly sweet.”
“I have my moments.” He shrugs.
Shaking my head, I try to hide my smile as I write all the answers down. “Okay. Last one, pet peeves.”
Esteban immediately says, “People who scrape their fork on their plate.”
I freeze mid-bite. “Like… this?” I slowly drag my fork along the ceramic, wincing at the sound.
He winces harder. “You’re a monster.”
“I know.” I grin. “Mine is people who don’t use coasters.”
He gasps and looks at the glass he just set directly on the wooden table. “Shit.”
I point triumphantly. “Gotcha.”
“Now you’re just making rules to mess with me.”
“Obviously.”
He grins again, and this time it lingers. For a moment, neither of us says anything.
Then he softly says, “We make a good team, Ross.”
I look down at the notepad, our fake love story all mapped out, and say quietly, “Yeah. We really do.”
I’m still grinning at our ridiculous pet peeves when Esteban takes the notepad and flips to the back and clears his throat like he’s about to read a contract.
“Alright, next question’s important. What are your thoughts on PDA?”
I raise an eyebrow. “PDA as in public displays of affection?”
He nods, suddenly looking all serious, which only makes it worse.
“When we go to Key West in two weeks, people will be watching us, especially McNeal and his wife. So…” He pauses, looking me dead in the eye. “What are we thinking? Hand holding? A kiss on the cheek? Maybe… a few on the mouth?”
I blink. “A few on the—? Are you asking me how often you can kiss me in public,Esteban?”
He shrugs, but there’s a playful gleam in his eyes. “Hey, I’m just trying to be a respectful fake fiancé. You tell me the boundaries.”
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm. Hand holding is fine. Kisses on the cheek, also fine. But mouth kisses?” I squint at him. “Only if they’re quick. None of that slow, smoldering, TV-drama kind of stuff.”
He leans forward, elbow on the table, resting his chin on his fist. “So you’re saying I have to sneak them in before you have time to protest?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m saying we keep it PG-13.”
He smirks. “Define PG-13, Ross. Some PG-13 movies getspicy.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You still haven’t said no.”
I pick up my glass and take a slow sip of juice just to stall. “Fine,” I say eventually, trying to sound stern. “You can kiss me, occasionally. But you better act like a man in love, not a man trying to win an Oscar for best on-screen kiss.”
“Got it.” Esteban laughs. “Devoted fiancé mode: activated. But just so you know, I’m a great kisser.”
