“Smart woman,” I say, pulling my phone out and opening the airline app. “What’s your birthday, fake fiancée?”
She gives it to me, and I book our flight then and there. It takes less than five minutes, and with that out of the way, the trip feelsrealnow. Close.
After dinner, we move to the living room. I let her take the couch while I clean up quickly, then join her with a blanket. We don’t turn the TV on—just sit facing each other, legs tucked up, shoulders nearly brushing.
“So,” I say. “You ready for this? Being fake in love with me for three days straight?”
She nods. “I am.”
“Good. We should probably go over a game plan, right? Just to make sure we’re on the same page.”
She hums. “Yeah. Like, who’s going to be more clingy?Should we hold hands all the time? Hug when we walk into a room?”
“All of that,” I say. “Plus inside jokes, eye contact, the works.”
Then she looks at me and says, “We need to practice.”
I raise a brow. “Practice what?”
Her gaze doesn’t waver. “Kissing.”
I blink. “You serious?”
She nods. “I know I said last time, no open mouth kisses, but if we’re supposed to act like we’re really into each other and if something happens, I don’t want it to look awkward or fake.”
I stare at her for a beat, heartbeat picking up like I just ran a mile. “So… you want to kiss me right now?”
She lifts one shoulder casually, but her cheeks are pink. “Might as well. For the mission.”
God help me, I might not survive this fake relationship.
Chapter Seventeen
Eva
Istare at his luscious lips and can’t wait to taste them. They look plump and soft, and I have this irrational urge to bite them. That’s why I blurted out that we should practice kissing.
God, what is wrong with me?
I can’t believe I said that. Esteban is just staring at me now, like I grew a second head. His eyes bounce between mine and my mouth, like he’s trying to process what just came out of me. The silence stretches, too long, too tense. I start to panic.
“Or we can just wing it,” I blurt again, heat crawling up my neck. “If you don’t feel comfortable kissing me, that’s totally fine. I just wanted to practice so I don’t look ridiculous if there’s a need for you to kiss me in front of people. I mean, you know, like in Florida. For the fake relationship. Not because I want to kiss you, which I mean, I do, but not like, ugh.”
I’m rambling and I can’t stop. I open my mouth to saysomething else, anything to fill the air, when Esteban leans forward and gently places his index finger over my lips.
The touch makes me freeze.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice low. “I get what you’re saying. It’s just…” His eyes search mine. “I’m afraid to kiss you.”
His words hit me like cold water.Afraid?Why would Esteban, cocky, confident, flirtatious Esteban, be afraid to kiss me?
“Why?” I manage to whisper.
He lowers his hand but doesn’t break eye contact. “Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“But I asked you to kiss me,” I say, confused. “Why would I feel uncomfortable if I’m the one asking you to?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, his voice quieter now. “I just want you to be sure.”
