Page 34 of Hideaway Heart

“Well, at least let me buy you a drink at the bar before we go.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s too crowded in there. And the later it gets, the more it will fill up with drunk assholes.”

“Come on. Please?” She clasped her hands under her chin. “I never get to do this—just hang out on a Friday night. No one knows me here, I’ll face the wall, I’ll keep my little disguise on—” She lowered the bill of the cap and peeked right and left. “I won’t even get up and dance on the bar.”

Exhaling, I sat back and folded my arms. It was a bad sign that I couldn’t say no to her. “If I say so, we leave immediately.”

She made an X on her chest. “I will do as you command, cross my heart.”

Great, now I hadideas.

When the bill was paid, we went back into the bar, which was hot, loud, and packed. I kept Kelly in front of me, steering her through the mob of people standing shoulder to shoulder, trying to get close enough to the bar to order. Every time some guy looked at her, I did my best to scare him off with a menacing glare. Possibly a growl.

I managed to get close enough to the bar to catch Eric’s eye and signal for two beers, and he nodded, handing them over a moment later. Giving them to Kelly, I dug some cash from my wallet and shouted for Eric to keep the change. Then I took Kelly by the shoulders again and shepherded her back to our corner.

“You were supposed to let me pay.” She pouted and hugged the beers to her chest. “I should refuse to give you one of these.”

“Sorry.” My eyes scanned the rowdy drinkers pressing close behind her. “I just wanted to get away from the bar quickly. Too many people.”

“Fine. Have one.” She relinquished one of the bottles to me and clinked hers to it. “Here’s to our fake date—although it’s the realest one I’ve been on in a long time.”

“Me too.” We each took a long pull.

“God, what does that say about us?” she asked.

“Huh?” My eyes were over her shoulder. There was a group of guys now standingrightbehind her, and I didn’t like the way they were staring at her. Elbowing each other. Puffing up their chests. It was almost like they were daring one another to approach her. One of them rolled his shoulders and faced her. His arm came up, like he was about to tap her on the shoulder.

She looked up at me. “I mean why do you think we both—”

But before she could finish what she was saying, I grabbed her by the back of the neck and crushed my mouth to hers. A soft, surprised noise came from the back of her throat. I spun her so her back was to the wall, making it impossible for the guy to touch her or even see her. If he wanted to know if she was Pixie Hart, he was going to have to tapmyshoulder.

He didn’t.

I kept kissing her.

Five seconds went by. Then ten.

I lifted my head, our lips parting. The guy had obviously changed his mind. The threat was gone. There was no reason to kiss her again.

I did it anyway.

In fact, I changed the angle of my head to go deeper, opened my mouth a little wider, eased my tongue between her lips. I tightened my grip on the back of her neck, holding her to me. I kissed her until I had to take a breath, and when I tore my lips from hers, I swear her knees buckled a little.

“Xander,” she whispered. “What the hell?”

Those green eyes were looking up at me with wonder and confusion, but no anger—I had the feeling I could take her hand, take her home, take it all. And goddamn, I wanted to.

But I couldn’t.

“Sorry.” I dropped my hand from her neck and glanced over my shoulder. “There was a guy about to tap your shoulder. I didn’t want him talking to you.”

“Oh.” She struggled to put it together. “So—so that was—that kiss was fake? It was like...a shield?”

Our mouths were still impossibly close. My eyes dropped to her lips. “Yes.”

It wasn’t a total lie—the first kiss had been a shield.

The second? That was a little more difficult to explain.