I lean back to look at him, and we seal the deal with a smile.
‘Third place?’ He grins like he’s very proud of himself.
‘I think we can do better. Let’s make it first, shall we?’
Louise bursts into the room. ‘Sorry to interrupt. Something’s gone wrong with the sound and I just need to check the mic packs.’
‘Oh shit, sorry.’ I spring up and lift my shirt up enough so she can see it. The loose wire falls out, hitting the carpet behind me. ‘Do you want us to do it again?’
She grits her teeth and I hope that she’s not actually in for a bollocking for our behaviour. ‘No, no. It’s okay,’ she says, as she picks up the end of the wire. ‘Ignore me, just focus on each other.’
We lock eyes, smiling as Louise whizzes round us, checking and rechecking our mic packs are working.
The minute she’s gone, I say, ‘Are you going to kiss me then?’
Warren smiles cockily, and Iknowthe girlies are going to be yelling all over socials about this moment. He slides one hand up the back of my head, fingers threaded through my short hair, and before I know what he’s doing, he dips me low.
‘Wow,’ I whisper, as he holds me in his big strong basketball-ing arms.
I wait for him to move first, and he kisses me tenderly, slowly. This is a man who is familiar with lip balm, I can tell, because his lips are so plump and soft. He tastes like honey.
I don’tfeelanything for him romantically or sexually, as expected.
But a nice kiss is still a nice kiss.
It’s not my first time kissing a boy. I may have come out the womb pretty certain I liked women, but even I kissed a few boys during spin the bottle at parties – a small price to pay to kiss the girls Iactuallyliked with plausible deniability. Those were much less enjoyable, a few bitten lips, a few washing machines, but worth it because I got to snog Mikaella Matthews for the first time.
My stupid horny brain flicks back to last night’s hungry kisses with Carys.
I concentrate on Warren, on pretending, on selling our romance to the audience who might vote to send us on fun dates, and to the brands waiting to have us represent their eco-friendly washing liquids or matching organic cotton sweatsuits or green juice powders or whatever.
The one thing I know for certain is that that was a kiss for television. He’s Prince Charming, and I’m swept up in him. It’s a kiss that is going to be talked about formonths. Perhapsthere’ll be gifs, fan edits, dissections of our (excellent if I do say) technique.
I’m sure that’ll do him well in the future too. Once we’re broken up and he can date again, the girlies will be clamouring for him.
I’m positive Jas will be giving me top marks for my convincing performance of heterosexuality.
When he finally rights me, I can’t help but laugh. ‘God, sorry. I’m lightheaded.’
‘Was that not from my kiss, though?’ He raises just one eyebrow, his lips falling open ever so slightly, and I ampositivethere’ll be gifs of that inevitable close up.
I place my hands on his chest to stabilise me. ‘You leave me breathless.’
‘Lucky me,’ he whispers, drawing a finger down my jaw, and tilting my chin up just enough so we kiss again, ‘that I get to kiss a woman like you.’
‘I can’t wait to be with you properly,’ I say with just enough suggestion that the audience will know it’s going to be hot when we’re engaged.
‘Baby,’ he says so smoothly that I almost forget this is fake, ‘you’re even more beautiful in real life, and I fell in love with your soul through that barrier this week.’
‘Love?’ I whisper, eyes wide.
‘Yes. I love you.’
I gasp. ‘Warren, I love you too.’
I’m almost tempted to somehow engineer us back into a dipped kiss, but instead, I just go for another sweet one.
‘I can’t believe I found you,’ I say.
