Page 55 of Lease to Love

"Mutual pining and sexual tension gone awry," he clarified.

I stared at him. "That's your explanation for why we've spent three years arguing? We’ve been horny and frustrated?"

"People believe what makes sense to them."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer we're using."

I sighed. "Fine."

"And finally," he continued, "you let me lead tonight."

I laughed at that one. Really laughed.

"Yeah, no. I’m not doing that."

Roman's eyebrows pulled together. "Summer—"

"Absolutely not."

"I know which relationships are most crucial for the initiative."

"And I know the people you're trying to impress."

"Which is why—"

"Which is why you're going to follow me, Sterling."

His jaw tightened, but I pointed at him before he could argue. "It's been a few years, but I have been attending this gala since before I was old enough to know what a gala was. My mama used to help plan it. I volunteered as event staff when I was a teenager. By the time I was twelve, I had probably been to this thing more times than you have."

He opened his mouth. I kept going.

"And doing things your way has clearly gotten you exactly nowhere. You have business relationships with some of the people in there, sure. But I have actual relationships with the people you're trying to reach. People who know me. Trust me."

I leaned closer.

"You don't need me to introduce you to people and then disappear so you can work your non-existent magic. You need me to show you how to walk into this neighborhood without making everybody feel like you're walking into their house with a clipboard."

His eyes narrowed.

"And if you want to make those crucial relationships," I said, using his words from earlier against him, "you're going to follow my lead while I show you how networking in Langston Park actually works."

He gave me that look. The one that made me feel like he was taking me apart piece by piece, filing away every word I said and deciding whether I had earned the right to be taken seriously.

Finally, he nodded. "I'm walking us in."

Before I could argue, he was already opening his door.

That was probably the most Roman had ever conceded in his life, and I was taking the win.

He opened my door and offered his hand to help me out, which I took because the heels were new and the parking lot was uneven and I was not ending this evening on the asphalt.

His fingers closed around mine, warm and firm, and he helped me out of the car. Then his hand settled at the small of my back.

Just like that.

A light pressure.