Chapter 6 #4
The kind of man who didn't need designer logos to get attention because he already owned every room he walked into.
His sunglasses disappeared as he approached.
Then his scent hit me.
He smelled rich, warm and clean.
The kind of cologne that made you want to stand a little closer.
Before I could gather myself, he wrapped me in a hug.
A real hug with his big arms around my small waist.
His face brushed against my neck for a brief second.
I instantly melted. The feel of him caught me off guard.
When he pulled back, he was grinning.
"Just practicing."
I laughed and shook my head.
"You are something else."
He reached for my hand as we started walking toward Oliver's.
For a second I almost questioned it.
Then I remembered why we were here.
So I let him hold it.
"How was your morning?" he asked.
"Besides having anxiety all night?"
His eyes immediately found mine.
"You didn't tell me that."
"There wasn't anything to tell."
His gaze lingered.
A chill danced down my spine.
He looked from my eyes to my mouth before meeting my gaze again.
"Well, for what it's worth, you look amazing."
The compliment landed harder than it should have.
"Thank you."
I glanced away before looking back at him.
"You do too."
A slow smile spread across his face.
"I do?"
I immediately regretted speaking.
"I mean... you know. For a fake boyfriend."
His laugh echoed down the sidewalk.
By the time we reached Oliver's, something felt off.
There was no line.
No crowd.
No people waiting outside.
Which made absolutely no sense.
Oliver's always had a line.
Always.
"Are they closed?" I asked, concern immediately creeping into my voice.
I had been thinking about that double chocolate croissant since last night.
Jalen didn't answer.
Instead, he glanced through the window and lifted a hand.
An older Italian man behind the counter immediately smiled and waved before making his way toward the door.
A second later, the lock clicked.
My eyes widened.
"Wait."
The door opened.
"Wait."
Jalen looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"Did you have Oliver's closed just for us?"
"Yes."
I stopped walking.
"Jalen."
"What?"
"You had Oliver's closed?"
"Just for lunch."
I stared at him.
I genuinely didn't know what to say.
The last few years had made crowds difficult.
Not impossible, just exhausting.
And somehow he'd figured that out without me ever really explaining it.
The gesture hit harder than it should have.
"Wow."
It was all I had.
Inside, the smell of butter, sugar, coffee, and fresh bread wrapped around me immediately.
"Mr. Oliver, it's a pleasure to meet you," Jalen said, extending his hand.
The older man beamed.
"Mr. Carter, the pleasure is mine. When your assistant called last night, there was no chance I was saying no to meeting our quarterback."
Jalen laughed.
"You didn't have to do all this."
"Nonsense. You both get whatever you want."
"I'd be happy to pay. I've been hearing about these pastries forever," said Jalen.
Mr. Oliver waved him off.
"Today, you are guests."
I smiled and shook his hand.
"Thank you. My best friend and I practically keep this place in business."
That made him laugh.
When I turned back toward Jalen, he was already watching me.
And for the first time all morning, I realized this rehearsal might actually be worse than the game.
Because spending time with him was becoming entirely too easy.
We picked out an embarrassing amount of pastries, making sure to grab extra for Nia and Cal.
The box was filled with a little bit of everything, but neither of us forgot the double chocolate croissants.
After grabbing our coffees, we thanked Mr. Oliver again and made our way across the street toward the park.
A few people recognized Jalen along the way, but it was nothing overwhelming.
Just a couple of friendly hellos and quick waves.
What struck me most was how gracious he was with everyone. He smiled, shook hands when appropriate, and exchanged a few words before continuing on. At the same time, people seemed to understand boundaries. Nobody crowded him. Nobody shoved a phone in his face.
I appreciated that more than I expected.
We found an empty bench beneath a large oak tree and settled in.
I immediately looked over at him.
"What?"
I pointed at the croissant in his hand.
"I've been waiting for this moment."
He laughed.
"What moment?"
"Your first bite."
He shook his head but obliged.
The second the pastry touched his tongue, his eyebrows shot up.
Then his eyes widened.
I burst out laughing.
"Damn."
I laughed harder.
"Damn?"
He looked down at the croissant and then back at me.
"If you and Cal keep introducing me to places like this, I won't be Houston's favorite quarterback much longer."
I laughed, "Don't go overboard now."
"I can't make any promises," he said taking another bite.
"These are ridiculous."
I pointed at him.
"I'm definitely getting Cal for telling you I like this place."
"Don't."
"Why not?"
"Because I asked."
That caught me off guard.
I looked at him for a moment.
"You asked?"
He shrugged.
"I wanted to know what you liked."
The answer was simple.
Yet somehow it landed harder than it should have.
I took another bite of my croissant.
"You're full of surprises, Mr. Carter."
"There can be more if you'd allow it."
The look he gave me sent an uncomfortable flutter through my stomach.
I looked away first.
"I don't think mixing business and pleasure is such a good idea."
I focused on unwrapping the rest of my pastry while watching the crowd beginning to form outside Oliver's across the street.
That didn't take long.
Jalen followed my gaze.
"I understand."
I nodded.
Then he smiled.
"We can be really close best friends instead."
I laughed.
"Oh boy. I've heard that one before."
"Yeah?"
His grin widened.
"Well, not from me you haven't."
I shook my head, smiling despite myself.
The man was impossible.
I took another bite of my croissant.
Unfortunately, a streak of chocolate ended up on the corner of my mouth.
Before I could reach for a napkin, Jalen leaned over.
His thumb brushed softly across my skin.
Everything inside me froze.
Then, without a second thought, he licked the chocolate from his thumb.
My eyes widened.
My entire body went hot.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
"For the cameras."
I stared at him.
Speechless.
Completely speechless.
Then I turned and followed his line of sight.
Sure enough, someone stood near the edge of the walkway holding up a phone.
Taking pictures.
Well.
So it begins.
I shook my head and laughed.
"You're enjoying this way too much."
"Maybe a little."
"You're a menace."
"That's not what my community outreach team says."
I rolled my eyes.
We finished our pastries and coffee while talking about everything and absolutely nothing.
Favorite restaurants.
The worst jobs we'd ever had.
His rookie season.
My first disastrous public relations client.
The conversation flowed so easily that I lost track of time.
For someone who spent most of her life avoiding people, I found myself not wanting the morning to end.
Eventually we stood and started walking back toward our cars.
His hand found mine naturally.
Like it belonged there.
Like it had been there before.
Neither of us mentioned it.
As we reached my car, he opened my door before I could.
"I enjoyed spending time with you," he said. "Even if it wasn't technically a real date."
I smiled.
"I did too."
And that surprised me with how true it was.
"I forgot how nice it is to be outside during the day."
His expression softened.
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
Neither of us moved immediately.
The moment lingered between us longer than either of us seemed ready to end it.
Neither of us said anything as we stood there smiling at one another beneath the warm afternoon sun.
Then Jalen leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against my cheek.
My breath caught before I could stop it.
His lips were warm and impossibly soft, and I caught the faint taste of coffee and sweet pastry lingering on his breath as he pulled away.
The kiss lasted only a second, but somehow it settled beneath my skin as though it intended to stay there.
When I looked back at him, that same easy smile was waiting for me.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to convince myself it didn't affect me.
"See you Saturday, Amara," he said quietly.
I smiled up at him.
"See you Saturday."
He closed my door with the same care he'd shown me all afternoon before taking a few steps backward.
I sat there for a moment with my hands resting on the steering wheel, watching him cross the street toward his truck.
There was something undeniably attractive about the quiet confidence with which he carried himself.
His long stride, broad shoulders, and easy smile had a way of drawing my attention even when he wasn't trying.
He climbed into his truck, glanced over once more, and gave me a small wave before pulling away.
I waited until his taillights disappeared around the corner before letting out a long sigh.
Then I rested my forehead against the steering wheel and laughed at myself.
Who was I trying to fool?
The publicity wasn't the hardest part of this arrangement.
Pretending Jalen Carter wasn't slowly becoming my favorite part of every day was.