Chapter 10
Things got a little better after his strike, but not much. John was mostly just not as bad as he’d been earlier in the game. But his minor improvement, combined with the practiced skill of Celeste and Andrea, was good enough to edge out the science and math teachers. John gave the losing team an apologetic nod as they unlaced their shoes, then headed to the bathroom before saying goodbye.
He paused on his way out when he heard some voices speaking quietly around the corner.
“I mean, he’s cute for sure, but is he that into her?”
The other person clucked and giggled. “Doesn’t seem like it. Celeste was all over him trying to teach him bowling—it was so obvious, but he didn’t really respond. I almost felt sorry for her.”
John closed the bathroom door behind him with a purposeful bang and waited for the scattering of feet before emerging into the hallway. Two of Celeste’s coworkers—their teammate Andrea, and Layla, the science teacher—walked away with their heads tilted in close. Layla giggled and glanced at Celeste as they walked past her.
He ran his hand through his hair, swearing silently. His first outing as her fake date and he’d let her down. Chris had warned him about this. Public displays of affection didn’t come naturally to John, and while he’d been comfortable with the little touches from Celeste, he was realizing now he hadn’t returned any. Instead of doting on her, he’d given her plenty of space, wanting to be present for her without interfering with her time with her friends. He’d gotten so involved in actually bowling, and watching Celeste at ease with their team, that he’d forgotten the entire reason he was there.
He’d been a bad fake boyfriend.
Guilt tugged at him as Celeste approached, plodding in just her socked feet with her ponytail swinging.
Her eyebrows drew together as she reached him. “What’s up?” She gave him a friendly chuck on the shoulder with a loose fist. “You should be reveling in our win right now.”
“I think we have a problem.” John stepped closer to her and leaned in, keeping his voice low. “I overheard some of your coworkers doubting my devotion as a boyfriend. I don’t think I’ve been selling it well enough. I’m sorry.”
Celeste turned around to survey her friends, who were back at the lane packing up their things. “Who was it you heard talking?”
John nodded to the two women. “Andrea and Layla.”
“Shit.” Celeste groaned and slumped her shoulders. “Layla is the queen bee of the teachers’ lounge. If she doesn’t believe I’m off the market, no one will, and before I know it I’ll be hearing about Andrea’s cousin again.”
As if on cue, Layla looked up and gave Celeste a small wave and a weak smile.
“It’s okay.” He tugged her a little toward a vending machine, one of those that promised a soft plush toy to the person who could manage to maneuver the shaky metal claw correctly. She moved willingly, her eyebrows raised, as he shifted her so that her back was against the machine.
Celeste had shown up for him at the park without even knowing him at all. Surely he could help her out here. “Are they watching us?”
Celeste peeked around his chest. “Why?”
Because he was going to prove he was up for the task. No way would John let Celeste leave this bowling alley with her coworkers thinking he was anything less than enamored with her.
He kept some distance between them but kept his eyes locked on hers to make sure she was listening. Some ideas were brewing in his head, but he didn’t want to push their ground rules without warning. “We could sell this a little more. But it will mean getting a little closer than we laid out in our texts. Is that okay?”
Celeste’s brown eyes glistened as she grinned. “I mean, I don’t want to go out with Andrea’s cousin. So go for it.”
John stepped in close to her as she peered up, biting her lip. He’d bet anything Celeste was the teenager who always chose “dare” when people were playing party games in high school, the ones he’d always skipped out on by taking a walk.
But he wouldn’t skip out on Celeste. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and spread his palm on her lower back, feeling her rib cage expand into his hand as she sucked in a breath.
Her eyes were still aimed over his shoulder. “You caught their attention. They’re watching us.”
He could probably give her a brief kiss on the cheek and be done with it, but Celeste deserved more than that. She deserved for everyone to believe she had a boyfriend who could take his time with her. So he leaned in slowly to lower his face into the curve of her shoulder. The tip of his nose brushed first at the ridge of her collarbone, then up the side of her neck. He slid his nose up to the little notch behind her ear and found the epicenter of the ever-present peppermint, sweet and tangy on her skin.
Celeste tensed under him and gave a shaky exhale.
“This okay?” he asked, keeping his face tipped into her neck.
“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible. Her palm spread on his chest. “It’s okay.”
He was so close his lips brushed her skin as he spoke. “You’re wearing smaller earrings tonight.” He’d noticed the small blue gems on her earlobes earlier, and now one glinted at him from a breath’s space away.
She gave a small laugh. “I don’t wear big earrings when I’m bowling. They, um, distract me.”
They distracted him, too. One swing of her earrings would probably have sent every ball of his straight into the gutter instead of just most of them. He cleared his throat, trying to sharpen his fuzzy mind.
Beneath him, Celeste whimpered.
“You okay?” he asked. The scent of peppermint was alive on his tongue. “Want me to stop?”
“It’s just your beard, it… it tickles.” Her head shifted as she exhaled. “They’re still watching. Should we do something else?”
“Sure. Tell me what you want.”
Celeste’s breath hitched as her fingers curled, creating a star of pressure points on his chest. Before he could stop them, John’s thoughts raced ahead, imagining Celeste’s response under different circumstances. Real circumstances.
He had no doubt—she would be open, even greedy.
And with thoughts like that, he couldn’t stand this close to her for much longer.
“Maybe move your mouth up,” Celeste whispered. “Like you’re saying something, right in my ear.” She gave a small giggle. “I’ll make a scandalized face.”
He followed her instructions, bringing them cheek to cheek. “I should probably actually talk, right? Are they watching that closely?”
“Definitely. We can, um, use this time to talk about birds. Like I’ve always wondered, what do they do here, in the summer, when it’s so hot?”
His lips hovered a millimeter from the curve of her ear. “Well…” He closed his eyes, searching his brain for the bird facts that were usually at the forefront. Right now that space was occupied by peppermint and blue gems and the expansion of Celeste’s lower back into his palm. “They hide out during the day, sort of like us, and look for water to cool themselves off.”
“Sure.” She slid her hand up his chest and around the back of his neck until her fingers were playing with the hair at his nape.
John swallowed hard and went deeper in his brain, skimming through the pages of the old textbooks he still reviewed from time to time. “But, um, they also have a behavior called fluttering, to lower their body temperature. It involves…” Celeste’s short nails drew down his neck, then along the hem of his T-shirt, dipping just slightly below the fabric. “Rapid open-mouth breathing.”
The short sentence came out in a rush of breath onto Celeste’s ear. She tensed beneath him, her hand freezing on his neck where her fingers lingered below the hem of his T-shirt.
“Oh.” Her voice was tight, almost choked. “Really.”
“Yes. And then they do a vibrating—”
“You know what?” Her breath fluttered through his hair. “I think I get it. Rapid open-mouth breathing and vibrating.”
John drew a breath to steady himself, but the movement only brought their bodies closer, flush from neck to navel. He emptied his lungs quickly to put space back between them, but not before he felt the soft give of Celeste’s breasts against his chest.
His brain was muddled, and his body was… responsive. He had to extricate himself, and soon. “So,” he said through his tight throat. “Do you think they’re convinced?”
John pulled his head back just long enough to take in the delicate rounding of Celeste’s ear, the glint of her small earring, and something he hadn’t noticed before—a little freckle on her neck hidden just behind her earlobe.
This had started happening on their hike. Little observations about her—the way she tipped her face into the sunlight and hummed, or tugged at her ponytail as she asked about birds—tucked themselves away in a Celeste-shaped guidebook in his mind. Its pages held the bounce of her heels as she fiddled with her binoculars, the chipped red polish on her toes when she’d jumped into the mountain pool, the flex of her calves and the kick of her leg when she bowled, and now—the single freckle, just barely peeking into view.
All of John’s mental preparation for the role of fake boyfriend had been logistical, like thinking about when and how couples usually held hands. He hadn’t prepared for this—the sheer, simple comfort of closeness and the joy of intimate discovery. Or the surge of previously dormant energy awake and buzzing against Celeste’s pliant body.
Since his breakup, he’d embraced his single status happily. His friends and brothers had urged him to give love another chance, but he knew what a relationship held for him—constant frustration that he wasn’t more. More talkative, more forthcoming, more motivated. At times he’d suspected Breena saw him as a project, not as a partner.
And he enjoyed being single—John was a man built to spend time alone—but damn, he’d missed this. Missed it so much his hand was gliding up Celeste’s back, then closing around her neck. Wanted it so much he scraped his beard against her jaw, pulling a short gasp from her that zipped straight into that book, where he’d study it later.
Needed it so much that if he just lowered his chin, and—
“Okay, lovebirds!” Andrea’s singsong voice froze them both, stopping John from completely abandoning their ground rules. “We’re outta here! You still coming with me, Celeste? Or did you find something better to do?”
John dropped his hand from Celeste’s neck and stepped back just as she unwound her arm from him.
“Um.” She blinked three times before looking past him and lifting a stiff arm. “Yeah, coming. Just give me a sec.”
She turned back to him with a smile that was big but tight at the edges. “I better go.” Celeste dragged her teeth along her lower lip before lowering her voice. “Thanks for that. You were, uh, great.” Between them, her fingers tangled together. “Very convincing. Maybe not with the bowling, but with the other stuff for sure.”
He released a breath. “All part of the deal, right?”
“Right. Totally.” She took one step backward, then another. “See you Saturday, then? Back to birds.”
“Right.” John looked past Celeste at the sliding doors, opening and closing as people filed out into the dark parking lot. Suddenly he was eager to get home, maybe turn on some music in his shop and get some work done. “Back to birds.”