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His face looks like he’s up to something. Then again, he always looks a little mischievous or unreadable.

“Fine. We’ll table it,” I say, trying to pick up the pieces of my dignity and self-control from where they fell away from me like flimsy rags when he kissed me.

Marcus bends low and climbs into the back of the Uber.

He sticks his head out before shutting the door. “I knew you’d kiss like that.”

The last thing I see before the Uber takes off is his self-satisfied smirk through the back window.

Chapter 23

Marcus

Kiss me and you will see how important I am.

~ Sylvia Plath

I run my hand through my hair and catch the Uber driver staring at me in the rearview. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m Marcus Delaney, Thunder quarterback, or if it’s because he witnessed me kissing Cass when he drove up.

What was I thinking?

I wasn’t.

I knew, though. I knew she’d kiss like a firework—I had imagined she’d channel all that passion and intensity into our connection. I still wasn’t prepared for the reality of our kiss. And then she unexpectedly melted into me, just like she did during the interview, leaning on me as if I was her source of strength—as if she needed me, even wanted me. Cass’s fiery side always hooks me, but it’s her softness that is my undoing.

She doesn’t need me. I know that. And she definitely doesn’t want me.

I’m not sure what I want. Or if my wants even matter.

I’m not used to this level of uncertainty. I know my mind, my goals, and I know my team. With Cass, I never know what’s coming next.

She was about to call off our charade. I understand. We’re faking a relationship and at every turn, the stage gets larger. Now we’ve gone on a syndicated local show and broadcast to her home state that we’re legit.

She’s right. We’ve both benefitted from our farce.

But we’re not over. I’m not finished with Cass Carter. I actually might just be getting started.

I can hear Kate’s voice in my head telling me this is not the time to cut the act. You don’t go on television as a couple and break up the same day. That would bring such bad publicity.

As if publicity is my motivation. Who am I kidding?

I run two of my fingers across my lips and stare out the window of the Uber at the buildings passing by on the streets of downtown Nashville. My touch reignites the feel of Cass’s lips on mine. She broke our rule, running her fingernails along my scalp, sifting my hair while we kissed. I smile because I know she did it on purpose. Always testing me, pushing my limits, challenging me.

I pull up my cell and text her. I meant to put some space between us. When Winona insinuated I should spend the afternoon with Cass, I couldn’t.

I don’t have plans.

Sure, I can watch film. But I don’t need to.

I could have hung out. But not after that kiss. Not when I don’t know my own mind where Cass is concerned. I need to get us back to homeostasis—back to our normal give and take, to our push-pull sparring.

Marcus: You broke a rule, Carter.

Cass: Says the criminal himself.

Marcus: No running your nails through my hair.

Just typing that sentence brings the sensation back, and I almost shiver. She was into the kiss. She may not like the man, but she likes kissing me.