Page 43 of Playing Pretend

No, I instructed myself, push back, push back.

The loud eruption around us wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the blood rushing in my ears.

Flash.

“Mr. Callahan, how long have you and Ms. Kavanagh been dating?”

Flash.

“Mr. Callahan, how’s Braelynn?”

Flash.

“Mr. Callahan, are you in love?”

Flash.

“Mr. Callahan, why all the secrecy?”

Flash.

All the questions went unanswered, and it became obvious that Caleb was using actions rather than words to get his point across. My lips double-crossed me, and started moving when Caleb’s did, following the too-sensual-for-public kiss.

Dammit. The man could kiss the lips off a mannequin if given half the chance, and what he was doing to mine felt like sex. Lip sex. Sweet, sensual lip fucking that I specifically said was. Not. Allowed.

Right then.

Two could play at this game, buddy.

Caleb pulled away but not before I nicked his bottom lip with my teeth, hard enough to make him flinch. His eyes blazed, and the independent woman inside me cheered like I’d just won a gold medal at the Olympics.

“I told you,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear me. “No kissing.”

The upturn of Caleb’s mouth was the only indication that he’d heard what I said.

“You should by now, Kadence,” he lifted me slowly, “I’m not a man who easily takes instructions from others.”

“It’s never too late to learn, Mr. Callahan.”

With a final acknowledgement of the press, Caleb led me across the red carpet, past what was supposed to be the real press gauntlet, and inside the warehouse.

“OH MY GOD, I KNEW IT!” Annabelle rushed towards us, her light purple lace-sleeved dress swaying at her knees. With her pixie cut hairstyle, and exuberant gait, she reminded me of a dark-haired Tinkerbell. Her smile was wide, filled with expectation, and when I looked over her shoulder I saw an amused Aaliyah trailing behind her. She too looked picturesque in a dark red Venetian one-shoulder gown, her long dark hair slick and straight.

I kissed Caleb on the cheek – for show, of course, not because I really wanted to – and excused myself. He lifted my hand from the crook of his arm and kissed the back of it before turning his attention to the numerous reporters vying for but a second of his time. They were invited, and from what I’d heard were all doing interest pieces on the fashion show, and the brain behind it. Fortunately, I had yet to be accosted by some nosey journalist, but from the gleam in Annabelle’s eye, I wasn’t going to like her impending inquisition any better.

“Knew what?” I asked, swiping a champagne flute from a passing waiter. Aaliyah shook her head playfully, taking a champagne flute of her own.

“I tried to stop her,” she told me, shaking her head in resigned enjoyment at our overzealous co-worker.

Annabelle pouted. “Oh c’mon, Liy. You can’t blame me for being excited. I knew there had to be something going on between Caleb, and Kadence.”

“I know,” snorted Aaliyah. “You’ve been hounding me all week for information.”

“Only because you knew what was going on and didn’t tell me,” whined Annabelle.

“I wasn’t allowed to,” retorted Aaliyah. “But now you can ask Kadence yourself.”

Annabelle’s expression was rather comical, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her.