Page 56 of Lease to Love

Barely there.

Except I felt every inch of it.

I told myself it was all a part of the act.

That was all.

We walked toward the entrance, and somewhere between the parking lot and the front doors, Roman underwent what could only be described as a personality transplant.

The low-grade irritation I'd grown accustomed to seeing on his face disappeared.

His shoulders loosened.

His mouth softened.

His eyes warmed.

And when he looked down at me, there was something so convincingly affectionate in his expression that my brain briefly forgot this was fake.

Was that attraction?

No.

Absolutely not.

I stomped that thought flat before it could grow legs.

The doors opened… And the warmth hit me first.

Not physical warmth, although there was plenty of that. The room was full of people, bodies, perfume, food, laughter, music. But it was something deeper than temperature.

It felt like home.

The familiar low hum of conversation. The clink of glasses. Somebody laughing loud enough to be heard across the room. Soul music playing beneath the chatter. The smell of fried chicken, candied yams, buttered rolls, and somebody's famous macaroni and cheese drifting through the air.

I knew this room.

I knew which aunties were going to ask about my mother before they'd even say hello. I knew which old heads would pretend they didn't remember me until I reminded them exactly whose granddaughter I was. I knew which business owners had spent the last year fighting with the city and which ones were secretly thinking about retirement. I knew who was proud of their new storefront and who was struggling to keep the lights on.

That knowledge lived somewhere beneath thought, it was in my bones. I didn't have to think about where to go first, I just moved.

Except tonight, I wasn't walking in alone… And everyone in the room seemed to notice.

Every head turned, and the room seemed to pause. For a few seconds, it really did feel like somebody had hit mute.

I knew why.

The dress. Roman's suit.

The two of us walking in together, matching without looking like we'd tried too hard.

Me in silk and gold. Him in burgundy.

His hand still resting against my back.

And we looked good.

Damn good.