He let out a short laugh. “Not really.”
“Tonight should help.” I winked, fully alluding to us fucking.
He snorted. “Can’t wait.”
A few minutes later, Faye stepped off the escalator wearing a black baseball cap as though that would hide who she was. It helped that she’d signed off on her detail for the trip, so men in suits weren’t tailing her and drawing even more attention. Her gaze fell on us, and she walked faster.
Dylan moved forward, then checked himself and stayed put.
I stayed put too because touching her right there might’ve turned into someone’s scandalous video within seconds, and we weren’t giving anyone that.
Faye got to us and paused, and I did everything in my power not to reach out and put my arms around her. The media assumed we were dating, and I wasn’t sure whether the right move was to fuel that fire.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Hi.” Dylan grinned.
“Hi.” I smiled. “I want to kiss you right now, but I won’t.”
She blushed. “Probably for the best, but it still sucks.”
“I want to kiss you too, Princess,” Dylan stated.
“I know, but I know we’re not doing anything in public.”
“Yeah, we’re being good.” I smirked.
Faye chuckled. “Just in public, though. In our hotel room, I want you both to be wicked.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “Carousel seven then?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
We walked like three people who happened to be heading in the same direction.Nothing to see here, no story, no drama.Dylan and I still ended up on the outside with Faye between us without discussing it, because that was instinct now, and because neither of us trusted strangers around her.
We hit carousel seven and waited. No touching. No leaning in. No cute moment someone could zoom in on and post with a caption that was anything but the truth.
As we waited, a guy in a Dodgers hat stared at Dylan too long.
Dylan stared back longer.
Faye angled her face toward him without looking up. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Dylan replied.
“He might just be trying to place you. Heisa baseball fan,” I remarked.
“Maybe,” Dylan agreed.
Faye’s suitcase finally rolled out, and she grabbed it fast, tugging it off the belt with a little grunt that made Dylan’s mouth twitch.
“Of course it’s heavy,” he commented, eyeing the bag.
“It’s not heavy,” she argued, but I knew better than to believe her.
I glanced at the arrivals board, then back at them. “I still need my bag.”
Faye’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t grab it already?”
