Page 28 of Playing Pretend

My breaths come short and sharp. He’s outdoing me at every corner. Leveling up before I even reach the starting blocks.

“What happened to professionalism?”

“It wasn’tunprofessional. It was a good morning kiss.”

“And I bet you expect me to believe you kiss your grandmother like that, too?”

He snickers. “No. But I’m sure she’d appreciate it more, if the glare you’re currently giving me is anything to go by.”

The appreciation is the problem. My body hums on a frequency that shouldn’t be reached with a best friend.

Never. Ever.

“Look, I know how men think.” He holds up his palms in placation. “Julian needed to get the message that you’ve moved on. He has that now.”

“Meaning there’s no reason for you to kiss me again?”

“I guess not, despite how well you played along. At one point, it almost felt like you were enjoying yourself.”

I clench my teeth and will my cheeks to stop burning. I will and will without success.

“Can you at least admit you’re surprised by my actions yet?” Rome asks. “That maybe you can’t handle me so easily?”

To myself,yes. Unequivocally. Without pause or contemplation.

I cannot handle this man and the ease with which he douses me with affection.

But will I concede aloud? Hell no.

“I can admit I have absolutely no idea what your mouth on mine has to do with testing my ability to work with you.” I step closer, lowering my voice to a whisper as I say, “Or how it can’t be classed as some sort of pre-employment harassment for that matter.”

“The kiss wasn’t about the challenge. It was purely a protective measure.” He grins. “So you’re welcome.”

Him repeating my derision from last night isn’t lost on me.

The desire to smile at his absolute stupidity isn’t either.

“You’re a dick.” I playfully shove at his sweaty chest. “One who needs a shower.”

“Want to join me?” he says loud enough for the dawdling staff near the coffee machine to hear.

I glare.

He laughs.

Goddamnit.I want to laugh, too.

“I won’t be joining you. I have to make some calls, then I’m going to get an early lunch. We can catch up later.”

“We sure will.” His taunting laughter continues as he backtracks. He’s well aware I need space to recalibrate.

I roll my eyes, refusing to respond.

“Miss me while I’m gone.” He winks, then turns and strolls for the elevators.

As soon as his back is turned, I release all the air in my lungs, not realizing how tightly wound he’d made me until every muscle is slumped.

This is a dangerous game we’re playing. One that still has my lips tingling, my stomach twisting.

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