Page 592 of Manhattan Bossholes

Cameron burst out laughing. “My dear, that was course two of eight. Buckle up, we’re going to be here for a while.”

The thought of a long evening still to go filled me with inexplicable happiness. Sure, I was working, but I was also having way too much fun with Cameron.

“Hey, look at me,” he said without preamble.

I did as I was told and felt weird when he leaned closer to scrutinize my face. “What?”

Cameron reached across the table and grasped my chin gently, which sent a flutter down my spine. “You have a dot of lemon confit on your cheek.”

It was at that moment I noticed something in my peripheral vision, outside and just beyond the window. I didn’t turn to glance out because I knew exactly what it was.

Or whom.

“Don’t look, but we have an audience. Outside.” I said, smiling sweetly at Cameron, who was still clasping my chin. “Make this count, okay?”

His expression shifted to a bemused grin, like he couldn’t believe how adorable I was with food on my face. He brought his napkin up to my cheek and wiped it gently while I cast my eyes down, smiling sweetly to telegraph that I was so grateful my knight in shining armor was taking care of me.

“There you go, my dear,” he said, drinking me in so convincingly even I believed it was real. “Oh, wait, hold on. I missed a spot.”

Cameron leaned across the table and cupped my face gently, then angled it so that he could plant a soft kiss on my cheek, right where he’d just wiped it. He paused with his lips pressed against me, and for a moment, time stopped.

He pulled away slowly to gaze into my eyes. I could tell he was asking permission to engage in the kissing clause from our contract, so I gave him an imperceptible nod.

I leaned closer to meet him halfway, holding my breath. Cheek kisses were one thing, but lip-to-lip contact was going to shift our partnership to the next level.

Cameron brushed his mouth against mine, and the sweet sensation immediately made me forget that a few people were gathered outside on the sidewalk, watching the fairy tale unfold. All I could focus on was how incredible it felt to share this moment with him. My body told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was going to be in deep shit if this kept happening.

Cameron moved away reluctantly and sat back down. “Well, that was, uh, nice.”

“Yes, it was,” I agreed, like we were talking about the weather and not the fact that we’d just opened up a portal to who-knows-what.

“Do you think they got the shot?” he asked.

As much as I wanted to glance outside to see how many people had gathered, I forced myself not to. “It was pretty cinematic. I have a feeling they did.”

The waiter reappeared with yet another course filled with things I couldn’t pronounce, and I settled into the new rhythm that was the full dining experience with Cameron O’Connor. By the time we rolled up to our building after our meal, I was full, tipsy, and happy. Based on the way Cameron was acting, I wasn’t the only one. We joked about the elevator getting stuck on the way up to my apartment, and I realized how far we’d come since that fateful ride just a few weeks prior.

I’d expected to say our goodbyes in the elevator so he could head up to his own floor, but he got off with me to walk me to my door, even though there was no one around to see it and we didn’t have to pretend any longer.

I fished my keys out of my purse and leaned against my door. “Thank you. For everything. The amazing dinner. For this dress.” I plucked at it. “And the makeup to make me look all elegant and beautiful,” I gestured in front of my face.

“Now hold on, I take no credit for how beautiful you look tonight. That’s all you.”

I hugged myself. Was this really happening? Was Cameron actually flirting with me, with no witnesses present?

“Turns out fake dating you isn’t too bad. I had a wonderful time,” I said, suddenly shy.

He leaned against the door, just a foot away from me. His eyes traveled around my face, pausing on my mouth.

“You don’t even know,” he murmured, moving to me and taking me in his arms. He paused a moment to give me the chance to back away, but there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity to kiss him, fully and for real.

And when we did? My knees nearly gave out.

All the pent-up tension from the sweet kisses at the restaurant funneled into a kiss that lit my body on fire. I felt a little animalistic as our bodies connected, like I couldn’t get enough of him. He pulled me close, then closer still, and I loved that he seemed as into the kiss as I was. His mouth was a mixture of soft and strong, signaling that he was ready to go as far as I’d let him.

But what the actual hell were we doing?

We’d agreed to a professional fake relationship, with a contract and everything, yet here we were, making out with no one else around to see it—just for us. Just because we wanted to. Even though it felt magical, I knew we had to stop. We needed boundaries if we were going to make this charade work, because without them I had a feeling I’d do something I’d regret.