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Prove to her that she’s everything a man—a real man—could ever want, and more.
Cricket tenses under my hand, her eyes wide with disbelief. She looks to the left and finds her ex standing there. I can almost picture the smirk on his smug face, but I don’t look over to confirm. My eyes are glued to the most gorgeous set of green ones I’ve ever seen. They’re a little hazy and she blinks rapidly, as if to clear the desire and push it out of her mind. It doesn’t work, though. I can still see it there, underlying and brewing a silent storm.
“Get a room, will ya?” Ellen says, dropping into the seat beside me.
Apparently, they’re staying to watch the game with us.
Awesome.
A big part of my brain says to yes, get a room, but it’s the other part that reminds me this isn’t real. It’s all fake, part of a scheme. A ploy to show Danny she’s not still single and stuck in whatever rut he insinuated. Never mind the fact that she’s successful and driven in her work. She’s doing something amazing that she enjoys—or enjoys to an extent—and has really made a name for herself in San Francisco. She has nothing to be insecure about. She’s amazing.
Just like that kiss.
And I want to do it again.
Chapter Nine
Cricket
My lips still tingle, even as halftime draws to a close. I’ve always enjoyed watching the marching band perform, yet I can’t seem to concentrate on the action on the field. Instead, I keep reliving the action in the stands right before the start of the game, and instead of reminding myself that it shouldn’t have happened, I wish it would repeat.
Now.
“So, Cricket, what made you move to co-host. I thought you were destined to be behind the camera forever,” Danny says. I’m on the end of our foursome, while Ellen and then Danny sit to Rueben’s right. When I glance over, I see Danny’s arm casually thrown over the back of Ellen’s seat, but other than that, they haven’t touched the entire first half of the game. She has, however, bumped Rueben’s leg or leaned hers against his at least half a dozen times. So much that he has actually started to angle toward me the further this game proceeds.
I tense in my seat and don’t answer right away, which means Danny is left to fill the silence with his assumptions and preposterous insinuations.
“I mean, you’re not bad and all, but I’m surprised they’ve kept you on camera as long as they have. They must have been super desperate,” he adds, making Ellen giggle under her breath.
Just the slightest sound from her makes me want to punch puppies. Not that I would actually do that, mind you. I’m just saying… “Actually, yes, we were desperate, Danny. Our co-host left without warning, which I’m sure you already knew, considering she was sharing a screen with you by six a.m. the next morning and a bed with you by six p.m. that night.”
Danny laughs. Actually laughs. “Still care who’s sharing my bed, Cricket?”
“Not in the least, Daniel. The only reason I even heard was because our entertainment reporter said pictures appeared on social media,” I reply, glancing over at the man I used to love.
“What can I say? The camera loves me,” he replies, giving me a wink and that cocky smirk.
Rueben takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, gently nibbling on the soft flesh. A warm shiver glides through my body, and I glance his way. His eyes are locked on the field, watching as the band finishes up their halftime routine to a stadium full of fans and alumni. But to me, it’s as if we’re the only two people here. His eyes might be trained forward, but I feel all of his attention directly on me.
As the third quarter begins, and Ellen’s arm moves from the armrest to resting on Rueben’s thigh, he quickly stands up and stretches his back. “I’m going to get something to drink. Anyone want anything?” he offers politely.
“Actually, I’ll go with you,” I state, happy to get up and away from our two tails for a little bit.
Danny asks for a bottle of water as I lead the way through our row of seats and reach back for Rueben’s hand. I don’t know why, exactly, but it’s comforting. I like it when we touch. He doesn’t seem to mind either, because he slips his hand in mind and walks beside me as we make our way to the nearest concession stand.
I try to gather my thoughts as I browse the menu items. The line is moving slower now, considering its lunchtime, and we silently wait for our turn to order. My mind keeps replaying what Danny said about being on camera. I knew this business was cut-throat, and that’s a big reason why I didn’t want it. I enjoyed the production room. I liked being behind the scenes and making the ship sail smoothly, even through rough, choppy waters.
“I don’t really like being on camera,” I state, unable to stop the word vomit from spewing out. “I know we’ve kinda already talked about my job, but the truth is… I hate it.”
Suddenly, I find myself almost panting with panic. I’ve never actually spoken those words aloud, fearful that they’ll be used against me and I’ll suddenly find myself without a job in a city like San Francisco. But the truth is, San Francisco isn’t home to me. Sure, it’s a great city with great nightlife and things to see and do, but it’s always felt like more of a landing strip than a home. For years, I associated that to my break up with Danny, and I was determined to prove that I could do it. Alone. But now? Now I crave the comfort and familiarity of roots, of home. Maybe it’s being back here, to the place it all began. Or maybe it’s Rueben’s presence in my life. All I know is suddenly, I don’t really have any interest in going back to my old life. I want something new, something exciting, something that gives me purpose and joy.
Rueben takes my hand and pulls me away from the food. “But what about—” I start, but he cuts me off with his lips. The kiss is firm and packs the punch of a thousand hammers to my soul. But it’s also confusing. There’s no one around to sell our fake romance to, so why is he kissing me? God, this kiss…is everything.
And that’s when it hits me like a cold shower. He’s doing it to calm me down. Not because he wants to kiss for the sake of really hot kisses, but because it’s the only thing he can think of to keep the panic at bay and to take my mind off my life problems.
“Sorry,” he stutters, blinking several times. “I didn’t mean to kiss you like that. You looked a little freaked out, and I just…”
Called it.
