Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I meet his gaze, heart hammering. “Good thing I like playing with fire.”
His jaw tightens. The hose slips and sprays in a wide arc, catching Mrs. Dottie square in the shoulder. She gasps dramatically and clutches her pearls.
“I have been baptized!” She announces.
The crowd laughs.
Levi finally releases my wrist and reaches for the hose, shutting it off with practiced efficiency.
Silence falls in our little bubble. Water drips between us.
“You’re reckless,” he mutters.
“You’re shirtless at a church fundraiser.”
He leans in slightly. “You’re staring again.”
“Hard not to.”
“You enjoying the show?”
I tilt my head. “I’ve seen better.”
His eyes flash. “Oh?”
“You’re distracted,” I say lightly. “Your form’s off.”
He steps into my space again.
“Fix it,” he challenges.
My pulse stumbles. “You want me to what?”
“Correct my form.” His voice drops. “Since you’re supervising.”
I swallow.
“Bend slightly at the knees,” I say, forcing professionalism into my tone.
He obeys immediately.
“Widen your stance.”
He does.
I step closer before I can stop myself.
“Engage your core.”
He exhales slowly, abs tightening under the sunlight. My brain short-circuits. The crowd noise fades into a distant hum. He watches me like I’m the one being evaluated.
“You’re flushed,” he says quietly.
“It’s hot.”
“It’s always hot around you.”
That does something reckless to my spine.
The hose lies coiled at our feet. The fire engine gleams behind him, water still dripping from the chrome.
He reaches up and brushes a damp strand of hair off my cheek and my breath catches.
“Sadie,” he says softly.
The way he says my name makes my stomach twist.
“Lieutenant Kane,” I reply automatically.
He smiles slightly. “Not here.”
“No?”
“Not when you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to set something on fire.”
My voice drops to match his. “Maybe I do.”
He steps closer again, crowd forgotten.
“You know this is part of the act, right?” he murmurs.
“Then act.”
His hand slides to my waist.
Not tentative.
Not questioning.
Possessive.
My fingers curl into his shoulders without permission from my brain.
The tension between us stretches thin.
“Levi,” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“You’re supposed to be in control.”
“I am.”
“That doesn’t look like control.”
He leans in slowly.
The parking lot noise crashes back into focus—the squeal of brakes, the splash of water, someone yelling about a sponge.
But all I see is his mouth. His lips hover inches from mine. The heat between us shifts. Deepens.
“You want me to kiss you?” he asks quietly.
The honesty makes my knees weak.
“We’re performing,” I manage.
He smirks faintly. “That’s not what I asked.”
The crowd whistles again, sensing something. Mrs. Dottie fans herself aggressively. My pulse pounds in my ears.
“You’re impossible,” I whisper.
“And you’re soaked.” He glances down deliberately at the way my dress clings to me.
Heat floods my face.
“Eyes up,” I snap.
He doesn’t move. “Make me.”
I shouldn’t laugh but I do. “You are insufferable.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” His thumb presses lightly into my hip, grounding me in a way that feels far too intimate for a church parking lot.
“Sadie,” he says again, voice rougher now.
“Yes.”
“If I kiss you right now, it’s not going to look fake.”
My heart stutters. “It didn’t last time either.”
His expression darkens at that. The KissCam moment hangs between us like a live wire.
The cheer team shrieks again as someone sprays foam into the air nearby.
Levi’s hand tightens slightly at my waist.
The space between our mouths shrinks to a breath and I want him to close it.
Not because of the church ladies.
Not because of the fake dating pact.
Because I miss him.
Because every time he touches me, something ancient and reckless wakes up inside my chest.
His nose brushes mine.
“Last chance,” he murmurs.
“For what?”
“To step back.”
I don’t. Instead, I whisper, “You’re hesitating.”
His jaw tightens. “Don’t mistake restraint for hesitation.”
He pulls me behind the fire engine in one smooth motion, out of the direct line of sight of half the parking lot.
The metal is warm against my back. He cages me there with one arm braced beside my head. The world narrows.
“You think this is a game?” he asks quietly.
“I proposed it.”
“You proposed fake.”
“And this isn’t?”
His hand slides from my waist to the small of my back. “No,” he says. “This isn’t.”
The air between us crackles.
“Then why are you still holding back?” I challenge.
His eyes flash. “Because once I stop, I don’t start pretending again.”
The words slam into me. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can feel it through the space between us.
“Levi—”
He leans in so close that I can feel the heat of his mouth without contact. The parking lot erupts in another round of applause at something unrelated, but it feels like it’s for us.
His lips hover a fraction from mine. My entire body hums. I want him to kiss me.
Not for the town.
Not for the gossip page.
For me.
For the girl who left.
For the boy who stayed.
He inhales sharply, like the scent of me is something dangerous and then he pulls back. His forehead rests briefly against mine.
“This is dangerous,” he repeats, voice rough.
My chest rises and falls too fast. “I know.”
He brushes his thumb along my jaw once. Soft. Then he steps away completely. Sunlight floods back in. The noise returns. He grabs the hose like nothing happened.