At first, Levi’s entire body feels stiff. I slip my tongue into his mouth, actually grateful for that kerosene he made me shoot with him: my breath is guaranteed fresh.

I trace the shapes of his teeth. His tongue retreats, dodging mine like it’s skittish.

But when I use my other hand to grab his collar and pull him even closer, he relaxes. The heat of his mouth doubles when he lets his tongue graze mine and, finally, kisses me back.

It all starts simply enough. Just an act. Nothing but a tool to show his ex-wife she’s not the hot shit she thinks she is.

Okay: she is hot. Even I have to admit it. Point is, if she has the balls to flaunt how she’s moved on to bigger and better things, the least I can do is help Levi pretend he has, too.

Somewhere during our little play, though...things change. I don’t know what, or when. Maybe it’s when Levi puts his hand on my knee and runs it up my thigh, and the buzz I feel between my legs rolls into earthquake territory. The tingle on my skin evolves, too: I shut my eyes and lean into it, into him, while a current ripples through me.

“Good…um, good job,” I manage, when the kiss breaks. I have no idea which one of us did it. “She’s looking.”

Levi doesn’t tear his eyes away from mine. No glance beyond my head or sudden subject change—just a piercing, unflinching stare. My stomach flips itself inside-out.

“I don’t care.” He lifts his hand, cupping my face to draw me back in.

My sex pulses in time to our breathing, a train clicking over its tracks while a single thought chugs through my head: I want him. I want him, I want him, I want him. And I want him now.

For all I know, though, this is still the script. Levi might just be that good of an actor.

We pause and stare at each other, faces less than an inch apart. I feel his breath envelop my face, and know he must feel mine.

“Levi?”

The little bit of space between us opens to the rest of the world; we remember, at the same moment, we aren’t alone.

“Hi,” he says coolly, before he bothers looking at her. She’s got her beau by the wrist, and clearly had to drag him over here to say hello. At least one of them has good sense. What the hell is she doing?

“I didn’t know you came to this bar.” She turns that orthodontist-portfolio smile on me and sticks out her hand. “Hi. I’m Lindsay.”

“Mara.” We shake. My smile and tone are meant to mock her, which she doesn’t catch. Levi, judging by his suppressed smile, does.

“So.” Lindsay looks at her guy, who watches the TV overhead and pretends this isn’t pure torture. She looks back at me. “Um...I’m guessing Levi told you about me?”

Automatically, my eyes narrow. Her question isn’t innocent: I can see that from a mile away.

She’s trying to ruin his new relationship by throwing in a curveball, banking on the fact he hasn’t told me about the divorce yet. Well, as far as she knows.

I take the mocking a step further and drape myself on Levi, holding his arm the way she keeps holding her guy’s. “Actually,” I say sweetly, “he did.” I set my jaw and pull my eyes across both of them. “He told me everything.”

In about two seconds flat, her face goes from that perfect tan to bright pink. Serves her right.

“Can we get our tab now?” I call behind me. While Levi, baffled and silent, signs the slip, I slide off the barstool and flash another sickly sweet smile at Lindsay. “Wish we could stay and chat, but we’re on a date, and...well.” I laugh at myself and lean in, whispering like we’re girlfriends sharing gossip. “You know how he gets with a few shots in him. Can’t keep his hands to himself.”

“All set,” Levi says loudly, his smile strained as he hops up and ushers me to the door. “Nice seeing you,” he mutters.

They’re still in the same spot when I turn and wave. Levi’s broad, rushing frame pushes me through the doorway, his arms looping around my waist as we leave.

“That was fun as shit, you can’t deny that.”

On the street, I join in Mara’s laughter. “It was, actually.” After ordering a ride-share, I look at her. We’re both stumbling a little, but I can’t tell if it’s the liquor, or some lingering effect of the kiss.

“Thank you,” I tell her, growing serious. “You, uh...you made that a lot easier.”

“I had to. She was so rude, sitting there with the same guy she....” Her folded arms tense in frustration. “It’s just not right.”

Her lips are red from our pretend-couple bit. I can still feel scratches on the back of my neck, where she grazed the skin with her nails until I was fighting every hormone in my body.

It was just an act, I remind myself. She’d even told me to play along. That’s all it was. Playing.

“Those shots of yours were no joke,” she mumbles in the car, and rests her head on the window. After half a block of bumps and potholes, she switches, putting it on my shoulder.

“I’m starting to feel them, myself,” I confess. The liquor was strong, but it’s this moment making my head swim: the heat of her against me, lips still buzzing from the kiss, and the soft growl of the engine as it carries us home.

Home. It’s been over two years since I thought of it as anything but a house, one giant burden of junk and bills and memories.

When we get inside, Mara kicks off her shoes and asks, “What’s with your face?”

“Huh?”

“You look...sad.” She shrugs off her jacket and grabs my chin to make me look in the hall mirror. “But you shouldn’t be. You totally one-upped her.”

Instead of studying my reflection, I look at hers.

I’m not sad about Lindsay. I forgot all about her during the drive here.

What I’m sad about, I realize, is the fact Mara doesn’t think of this place as “home.” Tomorrow we’ll tour her new prospect. I’ll have to pretend the thought of her moving out doesn’t make my stomach hurt, knowing this home will turn back into nothing but a house the second she’s gone.

“You’re kind of a mopey guy, though,” she adds, and pats my cheek before whirling away.

“I’m not mopey.”

“Yeah, you are,” she laughs. “You do it all the time. Your shoulders slump, you get all quiet—”

“I’m not moping when I do that. I’m...deep in thought. There’s a difference.”

“You know what your problem is?” she asks, ignoring me. Her hands shake out her hair, then point to the walls and ceiling. “This house. It’s got too many memories.”

Defeated, I nod. She’s right on that point, at least.

The arrogance on her face melts away. For the first time since she told me about her family, I catch another glimpse of the real Mara. Nervous, unsure, and a little lost, just like anyone else.

“I know how to fix that.”

Sure a joke is coming my way, I laugh through my nose. “Move?”

The air changes. Mara puts up the walls again, back to tough leather and hidden scars. But I can feel the rest as she steps forward and slides her hands up to my neck. She presses the spot behind my ear. Like a secret weapon, it somehow makes me bend down and capture her mouth with mine. Maybe I was already doing it.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, when we pull apart just enough to breathe. “In every room, in every spot, you ever fucked her.”