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After one last shake of his head, he begins his climb.
“You’re doing it. Keep going,” I cheer from the ground.
He makes it about two feet higher than I did, then his foot slips, and with a loud “Ahhhh,” he flies off the wall, arms flailing. Before I can move, he crashes into me, making both of us land on the mat, with him on top of me. When the mat stops bouncing, he pulls back onto his elbows and asks, “Are you alright?”
“I think so.”
He pumps his fist in the air and says, “And I stick the landing.” I break out into a fit of giggles.
We climb—or, in Pryce’s case, attempt to climb—for another hour, then we both are too pooped for anything more. After we return our equipment and slide into the car, we convince the driver to take us to Bobbie’s Dairy Dip for an ice cream to finish out our date. As soon as we step into the store, my olfactory system is consumed by the scent of freshly made waffle cones. I get my standard mint chip, and Pryce opts for vanilla. The irony is not lost on me.
As we settle into a booth, I do my best to forget the cameraman and the driver hovering over us the entire time. With a shaky hand, I hold out my cone to Pryce “Want a taste of something not so boring?”
He feigns shock but takes a lick from my ice cream, all the time with his eyes sparkling. “Even though climbing was the last thing I wanted to do, being with you made it a lot of fun.”
My pulse quickens, and I have to remind myself to breathe. He’s doing this for the camera that is right in our faces. “I had fun too.”
After he swallows his next bit of his ice cream, he says the line that Phoebe insisted upon. “We should do this again. Sometime soon.” After a husky chuckle, he adds, “Not the climbing part, but… I’d really love to see you again.”
Fireworks go off in my mind, and I force myself to sit still in my chair. My big smile is definitely not fake. “I’d like that.”
He takes a moment to gaze at me. His expression is unreadable, but when his eyes drift to my lips, I hold my breath while my pulse pounds in my ears. Pryce caresses my cheek then leans over the table and closes the gap between us. He kisses me. His lips are cold from the ice cream but warm quickly on contact with mine. His hand slides behind my head as I give into the kiss. At least for me the kiss feels genuine, and butterflies flutter in every cell of my body. No matter how fake it is for him, it’s exactly what I always imagined, and I will cherish this moment for as long as I live.
“And we’re done,” the cameraman says.
Pryce and I pull back barely an inch. We stare at each other for the longest time, then he blinks and stands to leave.
He takes my hand to help me from my seat. When we reach the exit, I throw away the used napkins in a nearby trashcan and tamp down what I thought was real because, of course, it was only for the camera as planned.
Chapter Six
Pryce
After the third nudge on my knee, I mumble, “Go away.”
“Did you sleep here last night?” Phoebe’s voice jolts me awake. I stare up at her from the sofa in my office. The events of yesterday wash over me like a tsunami. The match game, the date, the kiss. Oh man… what a kiss. I stayed up all night slinging dumbbells and replaying the kiss over and over in a loop. It was the best kiss of my life, and I think I might have feelings for Kenna. Wait! It was all for the camera.
Pryce, get control of yourself.
But that kiss…
I scrub my face with my hands as I rise. “What time is it?”
She steps over the dumbbells that litter my floor. I guess at some point during the night, I finally crashed between sets. “Nine o’clock. Jacobs has been trying to reach you. You look terrible, by the way.”
Running a hand through my hair, I reply, “You probably didn’t get much more sleep than I did.”
She stretches her back as she rubs her belly. “This little one kicked me all night.”
“It won’t be long now, right?” I pull out my phone to see five text messages from Alan Jacobs. Instead of replying to them, I’ll go to his office and he can tell me the bad news in person.
As I walk to the door, Phoebe says, “You can’t meet with him looking like that.”
I peer down at my wrinkled T-shirt and basketball shorts, clothes I never changed out of after the climbing date last night.
“I can be fired just as easily in shorts as I can in a business suit. What’s done is done.”
Phoebe follows me down the hallway and says, “But that’s just it. He’s delighted.”
