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“So you’re totally cool with the viral video and all the memes?”

Oh God. Memes? I was a meme? No, I wasn’t cool with it. But it’s not like I got to decide not to be a meme.

“Really?” The first one looked skeptical. “Because that press conference was pretty brutal. Love gives up hope? That’s rough.”

“I misread the teleprompter. It happens.”

“That seemed like more than just a misread,” the blonde testing the strength of that fabric across her chest said.

“Is it true you don’t believe in love?”

They were baiting me. Trying to get a reaction they could post for clicks.

Instead, I forced my expression to remain blank. Neutral. Ice queen, indeed.

“Are you really as cold as you seem? Or is there more underneath?” The other woman, a brunette with the whitest teeth I’d ever seen, asked.

Panic threatened to overtake me. The fight or flight urge was no joke. I glanced around, looking for an exit.

Before I could answer or run, a warm hand settled on my back.

“Ladies,” Beau said smoothly, appearing at my side like he’d materialized out of thin air. “What are you jokers asking my girlfriend about?”

The women’s eyes went wide, phones swinging to capture him.

“Beau Blackwell,” one of them breathed. “Oh my God.”

“Girlfriend?” The brunette’s perfectly microbladed eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. “Since when?”

“How serious is it?” the blonde demanded, her phone now aimed squarely at Beau’s face. “Are you two, like, official?”

My brain short-circuited. Girlfriend? What the hell was he doing?

More gossip. This was exactly what not to do. He’d fed the trolls.

This wasn’t part of any plan we’d discussed. I opened my mouth to correct him. We were definitely not dating.

Beau’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me closer against his side. Before I could process what was happening, he turned toward me, tilted my chin up with his free hand, and kissed me.

His lips were plump and soft and perfect. Damn. He tilted to the left, me going to the right like we’d done this a thousand times before. Why did it feel like kissing him was the most natural thing in the world?

My heart thumped so hard I was certain everyone in the room could hear it. Could they see it? It felt like it.

I was hyperaware of everything. The cameras pointed at us, the gasps from the influencers, the eyes of what felt like every single person in the room locked on us.

This was a disaster. This moment would be everywhere by morning, dissected and analyzed and picked apart by strangers on the internet who had nothing better to do than judge my every move.

Anxiety clawed at my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I needed to pull away, needed to get out of here. Run.

And then something shifted.

Beau’s thumb traced a gentle circle against my jaw, his long fingers brushing across the sensitive skin at my neck. The touch was so unexpectedly tender that it stopped the panic spiraling through me. His other hand was in the small of my back, anchoring me against his body.

The kiss deepened, just slightly. Not aggressive or sloppy. It was just more.

I stopped thinking about the cameras. Hell, I stopped thinking about anything except the feel of his lips on mine.

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