I looked at Rowe’s chest as if I could see the envelope through his jacket. This didn’t feel right. He shouldn’t still be sitting there.
I’d made a deal with him to pretend in front of my friends. His friends weren’t supposed to come into it. He wasn’t supposed to have to lie to people he actually cared about.
Something was burning deep in my chest, an uncomfortable ache that wouldn’t stop.
“Hey.” Rowe called my attention, waiting until I looked up and met his eyes. “It’s okay.”
Just for a moment, before I could stop it, I felt my lower lip tremble.
It wasn’t okay.
I’d been so fucking selfish.
Selfish Xavi – that was me all over. Selfish, self-centered Xavi Mendez, who always ended up with just himself for company. Exactly the way I didn’t like it.
I’d ruined this like I’d ruined everything else, and this wasn’t even supposed to be real.
“Hey,” Rowe said again, calling me back to the present moment, like he would keep calling me back from wherever I went. But that wasn’t real. That was an illusion. He didn’t care about me. He was just being paid to pretend.
I felt his fingertip touch my chin and tilt my face upwards, back to his face, back to wherever I had been going. He fixed my eyes with his and then, like he knew I would only drift away again if he didn’t anchor me somehow, he leaned in.
And kissed me.
Everything dropped away. The guests around us. The anxiety around his friend Deon and the idea that someone might guess it wasn’t real. The fact it wasn’t real. My stomach. All of it, gone.
There was only Rowe’s lips pressed warm and gentle and yet fiery against mine, only Rowe’s touch on my chin, light as a feather but enough to anchor me in place like a heavy weight. Only his scent in my nose, warm and lightly spiced, like coming home at Christmas.
He pulled away from me, and something shook deep in my core. “It’s alright,” he whispered, then let go and turned back to his place, looking forward.
Someone on the other side asked him something and he started talking to them, like it was nothing, like what had just happened was nothing at all, like the entire world hadn’t just shifted on its axis.
I swallowed and looked down at the empty place setting in front of me.
What was that?
Why had he done that?
More practice? To try to sell the story to Deon, knowing he was sitting right behind us? Because he caught Ace looking our way and knew how badly I wanted him to believe this lie?
A bit of extra credit because I had paid him early?
I pressed my lips together gently, feeling the skin shift and move, trying to take away the tingling sensation that had been left behind when Rowe pulled away from me. I could still feel the pressure of his lips.
The only thing I was sure of was that it wasn’t what I wanted it to be. He hadn’t kissed me just because he wanted to. Just because he liked the way that kissing me felt.
The way I liked how kissing him felt.
Except, liked wasn’t really a strong enough word.
I was dazed enough that when the waiter passed by to pour a glass of champagne that was intended for the toasts, I picked it up and drained it to empty immediately. The fizzing of the bubbles only served to remind me of the fizzing on my lips, in my stomach, in my blood when Rowe kissed me. The waiter gave me an odd look and topped it up again.
“For the toasts, sir,” he leaned close to murmur as if trying to stop me from draining the bottle dry.
Somebody had to.
“Nice suit,” Ace said, aiming it at me, but his eyes slid across the table to Rowe. There was the sound of a thud and Ace winced. By the casual look on Brody’s face, I had the feeling he’d just kicked Ace under the table.
“Thanks,” I said carelessly. I wasn’t going to rise to his dig, either on my behalf or on Rowe’s. I wasn’t going to fuck things up by bringing more attention to it or let him drag me into a shouting match that would let him talk down about Rowe.
