Page 90 of The Fake Date Agreement

A blockage?

I twist around. I’m blocking the entrance. Sasha trailed behind me, probably wanting to see if this relationship is real or fake. She seemed suspicious enough before to make me think she’s not buying it.

Blushing, I walk out, and even though I’ve gotten out of everyone’s way, no one moves. They’re looking at Javier and me. And no one’s eyes are sharper than Sasha Hall’s.

“You didn’t have to come meet me,” I tell him.

“Yes, I did.” He’s holding a coffee in each hand. That doesn’t stop him from looping his arms around me and stepping in close to touch his lips to mine. “How was class,Gatinha?” his voice is so intimate I hide an involuntary shiver.

Someone behind me sighs. Could be Sasha, but no way in hell am I twisting around to confirm it. He really is determined to play the perfect fake boyfriend, and hell, if I saw all this, I’d buy it.

Pretend, I remind myself.This is just pretend, so stop thinking there is more to this than there is.

“It was okay,” I mumble, aware none of my classmates are leaving. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper, blushing.

He dips his head and whispers back. “Do you think they want me to kiss you again?”

I look from his eyes to his mouth, and frankly, I don’t care whattheywant. I just know whatIwant.

Javier must know it too.

And Javier, in full view of my class, lowers his head and kisses me again, long and deep, toe-curling perfect, and everything a kiss should be. With his hips flush against me, it’s clear this kiss is having as much of an effect on him as it is on my pebbled nipples.

“You’re really good at that,” I breathe out, fluttering my eyes open when he breaks the kiss.

“Of all the women in the world, I’m glad you think so. Now…” the corners of his eyes crease when he smiles, “… can I give you this coffee before I fling it to the floor and grab you instead?”

I’m not even joking when I ask, “What coffee?”

He laughs as he leads the way from my building. When I peer over my shoulder, Sasha has her phone to her ear, mouth moving a million miles a minute. I hope whatever she says finds its way to Marc because I haven’t seen him since the fratparty, but everyone he knows has to be telling him about his ex-girlfriend dating three hockey players.

Javier holds out the two paper cups. “You decide. I got a couple of the fancy lattes. Salted caramel and?—”

“Salted caramel.” I make grabby hands.

He laughs. “You don’t even want to hear the other one?”

“There is no other one.” Then I freeze, fingers wrapped around the paper cup I’ve lifted to my mouth. “Unless this was the one you wanted?”

“And if I were to say yes?” His eyes sparkle with amusement.

I hand him the cup. “Here. I’ll take the other one. The…” I read the printed label on the other paper cup. Who the hell likeshazelnut? I swallow my disgust and mask it with a smile. “Hazelnut sounds nice.”

He laughs. “So, you’re a terrible liar, and you love salted caramel lattes. What else don’t I know about you?”

“I’m not that bad,” I deny.

He takes the hazelnut coffee I don’t want and hands me the salted caramel latte that I would inject into my bloodstream if I could. “You are worse than my little sister, and I thought no one could lie as badly as her.”

“You have a sister?” I ask.

His expression softens into one that is nothing less than love.

“I do. Nessa is the unwanted little sister I was determined to put on the doorstep the second my parents turned their backs.”

“But she won you over?”

He returns my smile. “She did.”

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