Page 54 of Gap Control

"People love brunch."

"That's homophobic."

Brady sighed. "You're wearing shimmer fabric. The brunch ship sailed."

I tried to focus on the camera, smiling like a normal person, but Mason was beside me, steady, real, and stupidly attractive in that coat that made him look like he had his life together.

I should've been thinking about PR while I was thinking about his mouth.

A teenage girl in a homemade Forge hoodie stepped up next with a phone in her hand and stars in her eyes. "Can I get a picture of you two?"

"Sure thing." I started to pose.

"Can you—" she hesitated, looking down, then back up, "can you, like… kiss? Just for the photo?"

"Oh."

"It's okay if not. I just—I think you're my favorite couple ever. You don't have to. I thought—sorry, that was weird."

Mason's voice was calm and level. "It's not weird."

I turned, ready to make a joke and deflect.

I didn't get the chance. Mason's hand slid to the back of my neck, and then—he kissed me.

Right there. In front of the table and the banner with our faces on it. In front of the girl with the phone, and in front of half the atrium.

It wasn't long, but it was real.

Soft, not showy. Lips on lips. Enough pressure to raise goosebumps, not enough to be inappropriate.

He kissed me like we'd done it a dozen times before, and it wasn't for the crowd at all.

When he pulled back, I blinked at him. I couldn't even pretend to move.

Somewhere behind us, someone gasped. Next was the sound of a camera shutter and a chorus of delighted squeals. The girl whispered, "Oh my god, they are in love."

Mason turned toward her, perfectly calm. "Did you get the shot?"

She nodded, trembling, and I somehow remembered to smile.

I delivered the canned response. "Cool. Thanks for supporting the team."

She wandered off in a daze, and I immediately bent down to grab a water bottle from under the table like hydration might restore my dignity.

My ears rang. My lips tingled. My knees were halfway to jelly. If I hadn't already bent down, I might've fainted and blamed low blood sugar.

Mason stepped back beside me like nothing had happened. His arm brushed mine.

I took a sip of water. "You ambushed me."

He didn't look at me. "You froze."

"That's not the same as consent."

"You didn't complain."

"Didn't have time to form a coherent thought."

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