“Gone.”
“Perfect.”
I don’t know how long we stand there, our eyes flirtatious and smiling, when Othello finally says, “Let’s get you a drink, and I’ll introduce you to Gavin and the rest of the guys.”
“That sounds great.”
A drink might settle my nerves, though being next to Othello already feels like the safest place in the room. It’s the curious eyes, the whisperers, the lingering glances that make my stomach twist. I’m sure the Gavin, Othello, and Carina love triangle is the talk of the night. I try to put on a face that looks like a nonchalant, happy girlfriend.
Othello takes my hand. The contact is brief but electrifying, his fingers lacing through mine.
“What do you like?” he asks when we arrive at the bar. He flags for the bartender.
I arch a brow. “You mean, you don’t know yourgirlfriend'sfavorite drink?”
This makes him laugh. “Remind me again. I forgot.”
“Oh wow. Red flag,” I say, gasping dramatically. “Forgetting my favorites?Tsk, tsk.”
Our eyes connect again, a charged silence sparking between us. I turn to the bartender, saving Othello before he has to answer. “I’ll take a French 75.”
Othello shakes his head and slides a hand down his face. “You’re right. I guess we do need to get on one accord.”
“Yes. We do. Get your head in the game, Mr. Kingston. We’re playing a game of make-believe.”
“You’re right. We are. We have to make this look seamless.”
“Genuine.”
“Flawless.”
“A smooth game of pretend.”
Othello shakes his head. “It won’t be hard pretending with you, Marley Jacobs.”
The way he says it steals my breath away. He leans in, so close I can feel the heat from his body.
“Don’t forget rule number one,” I remind him, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah. I know. But number one isn’t this.” He grazes my cheek with his lips. “And it’s not this.” Another soft kiss caresses my jawline. “It’s not this either...” he nears the side of my neck, a shiver racing down my spine. I pull back, completely flushed. My eyes land on his, and I think I’m ready to risk it all. Othello waits for me to make the move and close the space between us. To kiss him. And for the first time, I stop searching for reasons not to.
What would it hurt?
I lean closer, drawn to him in a way that feels impossible to fight.
“Ahem…”
An annoyed grunt breaks the spell. Over Othello’s shoulders are two dark brown orbs staring at me.
Carina.
In all her pretty girl glory.
She stands there, flanked by two of her bridesmaids, giving Isis fromBring It Onwith her bougie cheerleader clique. They smile too wide, too phony, eyes scanning me like I’m wearing last season’s shoes.
“Well, don’t you two look cute,” Carina chirps. She tilts her head. “Charley, right?”
My patience consumes me, almost like it’s holding me in a hug to keep me from getting out of line. I realize that Carina’s behavior has nothing to do with me. Whether she wanted Othello or not, she could still be jealous that he had moved on and was with me. I mean, I didn’t miss the way she lookedat Othello yesterday when we first arrived. She looked like a woman who was still holding onto a bit of her past.
