Chapter Ten #3
The tension left her shoulders, but she shrugged as if she didn t care either way.
He didn t believe it. Zaf was beginning to notice that Danika cared about more things than she let on, including him.
The evidence was warm against his chest right now: she believed in this gem stuff, and she d given him one, like sharing a slice of faith.
That mattered. It mattered so much his bones ached.
He put on the necklace, tucking the little red gem safely under his clothes.
Thanks, he said again, and this time the word came from somewhere deeper.
You re welcome, she said softly, and for a moment he thought he saw the same hazy tenderness that filled him reflected in her eyes.
But then she shook her head, standing a little straighter and flashing a little brighter, like Hollywood lights.
All right, she told him briskly, hooking her arm through his.
Let s do this. Don t forget: we are young and in love and boundlessly affectionate.
As if she were an actor coaching herself before she went onstage.
But nothing- nothing -about the last twenty minutes had been acting. None of it had been performance, none of it had been fake. And suddenly, Zaf was gripped by the urge to pull her back, look her in the eye, and make her admit it.
The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that pushing too hard made things snap.
Ten rushed minutes later, Dani found herself seated on a surprisingly uncomfortable but chic-looking bench in a surprisingly well done but tiny room.
Apparently, she was way behind on the norms of modern radio, because there was a camera blinking at them from the right, and the footage it recorded would, they d been informed, eventually find its way to YouTube.
Seemed like everyone had to diversify their income these days.
Luckily, Dani had dressed to impress one Zafir Ansari, so she looked generally presentable.
And Zaf himself was always disgustingly hot, so no problems there.
For a moment, when the teenage assistant had explained the filming element to them, Dani had worried it might trigger more anxiety for Zaf.
But he d touched the slight bump created by the garnet beneath his shirt and nodded.
A burst of something tender and possessive had hit Dani then, leaving her breathless.
It was just as strong as the sorrow that had carved itself into her bones when he d told her about his family.
She d wanted to kiss him. She d wanted to cry.
She d wanted to tell the world how incredible he was, because he d dealt with all that but look at him- look at him-he was still fucking going.
Only, she couldn t do any of those things, because they all seemed excessively passionate, and the only passions Dani typically permitted herself were sexual and professional.
Anything else had to make it past the committee, and the board had not approved Feeling Intensely for Zafir.
The board had approved Shagging Zafir, which, more to the point, was the only proposal Dani had actually submitted.
At that moment, Zaf s hand nudged hers on the cool, plastic surface of the bench, cutting off her thoughts.
She looked up, met the dark honey of his gaze, and saw a secret smile, just for her.
Pleasure zipped over her stomach, skating between her breasts, warming her from the inside out.
Then he hooked his little finger over hers, a tiny connection hidden between their bodies, one the camera wouldn t catch-one even the radio presenter wouldn t see across the equipment-laden table-and Dani was forced to remind herself that Zaf was just getting into character.
Method acting, or something. They were performing their relationship, and he was putting his all into this scene. Nothing more.
The music filling the room faded away as the presenter, a beanpolelike white man who was all messy hair and huge, horsey teeth, fiddled with a slide-y type thing on the table. Apparently, his name was Edison. Dani had never heard of him, as she preferred Radio Four.
Allll right, then, he began, before nattering away about the song he d just played in a smooth, dark-chocolate voice that didn t remotely match his appearance. With his oversized, raggedy jumper and enormous eyes, he looked like the ghost of a Victorian child shoved into skinny jeans.
Dani was in danger of zoning out completely to explore the parallels between Radio Trent s evening presenter and nineteenth-century children when she heard their pre-discussed cue. Which was, for the sake of simplicity, Zaf s name.
. . . Zafir Ansari, former rugby union flanker for our very own Titans, and his girlfriend, Danika Brown. These two have kicked up a storm recently as the social media sensation DrRugbae. Welcome to the show, guys.
Cheers, mate, Zaf nodded.
Having decided that feigning demureness was the best route (until Zaf needed her to leap in and attack, anyway) Dani dimpled prettily and murmured, Hello.
So, how do you guys feel about the whole Dr. Rugbae situation? That first viral video-what was that like?
It was . . . unexpected, Zaf said ruefully. Dani had wondered if he d clam up, but now that he d gotten past his initial nerves, he was cool and collected and charming in a way he usually hid. If she were a stranger watching this, she d think he was absolutely fine-confident, even.
But she wasn t a stranger. She felt the rigidity of his hand against hers, and knew he was concentrating so it wouldn t shake.
She heard the rough edge to his voice, and knew he was uncomfortable speaking to so many listeners.
She saw him rub a hand over his short, thick beard, and knew he d probably planned this carefully, so carefully, but was still worried about the unpredictability of the format.
So Dani leaned into his side and pressed a useless, impulsive kiss to his shoulder. Then she wondered what the fuck she was doing and if she d been briefly possessed by the spirit of a 1970s local politician s wife.
Zaf looked down at her, flashing the ghost of a grateful smile that melted her middle like gooey chocolate. And suddenly, kissing his shoulder- faking casual affection, rather-felt like the smartest, most accomplished thing she d ever done.
Which, considering her general excellence, was really saying something.
And what about you, Dani? Edison asked. How are you coping with social media stardom? He said the words with a wry irony she appreciated.
It s . . . quite sweet, Dani said, which was an absolute lie.
In reality, being a social media sensation for a week had started to feel slightly creepy.
I must admit, she added with a laugh, I could do without the comments from women who want Zaf for themselves.
He s otherwise engaged. That was Fake Girlfriend Dani talking, obviously, not Actual Dani.
Actual Dani didn t care about that sort of thing because Actual Dani had no claim on Zaf whatsoever.
Something in her stomach lurched.
Zaf frowned down at her. You shouldn t read those.
And you should know very well by now, darling, that you can t tell me what to read.
Although he was right, and after the third comment she d come across describing how gross and bald she was, and how she and Zaf were disgracing and/or diluting their respective races, Dani had decided to return to her lifelong avoidance of social media.
She was lucky Gigi had coached all the Brown girls on the nature of fame long ago, just in case any of them ever followed in her show-biz footsteps-or, alternatively, took part in The Great British Bake Off and got caught screwing Paul Hollywood in a field.
That had been the example provided, anyway.
Gigi was a firm believer in Paul s raw, animal magnetism.
Just so everyone knows, Zaf grumbled, leaning closer to the microphone like an old man with a poor grasp on high-tech sound equipment, I go through that hashtag every night and report anyone who says sh- stuff , he corrected himself, his scowl deepening, about Danika.
Or about us being together. And if I see any of you-
Dani squeezed Zaf s hand and laughed loudly before he could threaten anyone with bodily harm on public record.
He was clearly invested in the protective boyfriend role, because she could almost feel the heat rising off him.
Relax. What really bothers me is the hashtag itself.
I m not actually a doctor, Dani said. I m a Ph.D.
student. So Dr. Rugbae isn t entirely accurate.
Edison burst out laughing, though she had an inkling his amusement was more frantic gratitude that she d changed the subject. There s a note for all our listeners-she s not a doctor, she s a doctor in waiting . Academic types are strict about this.
Her cheeks heated. Wasn t everyone strict about factual accuracy? They should be, anyway.
Edison chuckled some more, then moved on with impressive efficiency. You two were filmed at work, during that famous fire-drill rescue. You re in security now, right, Zaf?
That s right. Zaf still seemed vaguely annoyed that he d been prevented from issuing threats, but he was clearly trying his best to sound pleasant and interested.
That s not all you re up to these days, though, is it?
Oh, lovely. Edison was steering things quite nicely, and once you got past the haunted eyes of a starved Victorian infant, he seemed a friendly and capable man.
Dani smiled beatifically and kept her mouth shut as Zaf launched into an explanation of Tackle It, while Edison, bless his soul-he was growing on her by the second-asked all the right questions and delivered all the right prompts.