Outside the studio, the noise and lights are deafening.

Fans shriek, screaming their lungs out for Dean and shouting so many questions that I can’t even pick apart what is an actual word. Flash bulbs go off in my retinas, so many cameras going off at once that I feel like I’m stuck in a strobe light and might fall over at any moment.

Dean’s hand grasps mine, our fingers twining like the way lovers’ do. He holds the small of my back and lets me walk first, shielding me from the onslaught of piranhas around us. My heart kicks like a drum against my ribcage, and I feel it moving up the back of my throat. I can’t tell if my knees are shaking due to the chaos going on around us, or from the fact that Dean is touching me, his minty, earthy smell invading my nose.

Two scary looking security guys push people out of the way in front of us, and finally reach the black SUV waiting for us by the curb. Wrenching the door open, the one linebacker-looking man practically lifts me into the passenger seat while Dean is escorted to the driver’s side.

“Holy crap, this is insane.” I breath, pushing strands of hair out of my face as I buckle in.

“Don’t say anything, they read lips and take pictures of everything,” Dean mutters under his breath. “Now kiss me, and smile.”

“What?!” I hiss, trying to talk like a ventriloquist.

“Play along, girlfriend.” He arches an eyebrow at me in challenge.

Two can play this fucking game. I fall into a swoony stance, positioning my boobs across the center console and lean into him. I bat my eyelashes, lick my lips and giggle shortly before almost falling into his mouth.

Dean’s strong hand comes out and grabs my chin, the calluses tickling my skin. When his lips meet mine, a jolt of memories shoots down my spine. It’s the first time in seven years that I’ve kissed him, and ghosts of our past whisper through every connection of our mouths. The pressure is soft but firm, neither of us fully committing, but just testing the waters.

To the people going nuts outside of our car windows, it probably just looks like a lazy, flirting kiss between lovers. But inside the car, the air is heated with unanswered questions, tense attraction, and disdain on my side for what I’ve gotten myself into.

Dean’s eyes are the color of a hurricane swirling through the ocean when he pulls back, but he paints the lazy side smirk on his face for the cameras before starting the car.

It takes him a minute to navigate out of the mob, and I take those precious seconds to collect myself and gather air into my lungs. Up until now, this has all been a game. We’ve been playing roles, doing show and tell instead of actually engaging with one another. This changes things, even if I won’t admit it. Even if I keep my mask on, I can’t for one second show him that it just slipped when his lips touched my own.

“Your breath stinks.” I throw at him, breaking the silence as we pull onto the highway back toward Malibu.

“But I’ve gotten better at that, haven’t I?” He grins a cocky, smarmy smile.

Leaning back in the expensive leather seat, he commands the wheel with one hand. Why does everything he does seem sexual? Maybe I’m just very, very exhausted from my dry spell.

“Maybe I need to get you tested before I do that again, who knows where those have been?” I point to his lips, and then let the meaning of my words sink in.

Dean must get the same vibe too, because I see his jaw tic underneath the stubble that dots it. Horrible accusations, terrible words from so many years ago float into my mind and whisper through the car. I’d been so hurt, my soul practically ripped in two when those pictures had reached New Jersey. His denial had only made them worse.

“Did you want anything for lunch? I can stop somewhere on the way back.” Dean changes the subject, and I try to shake off the cobwebs in my mind.

Trying to be civil, because it’s killing my soul to be so snarky all the time, I nod. “I still haven’t had a burger.”

Dean chuckles. “From In-N-Out? That’s what you want? You know I could get you something far better than that.”

“And you forget that I knew you before the red carpets and five course meals. Burger King used to suit us just fine.”

He nods, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Grease and fries it is then.”

While he navigates us there, I lean my head back and watch the passing scenery. And think about what he’d said in front of that audience. That I was special, that he wanted to spend all of his time with me. In reality, we were nothing more than distant strangers living under the same roof, putting on a rouse.

I needed to remember that. Because the way his eyes had burned me up across the room when the cameras had panned to me made my heart feel as if we were sitting on our bleachers all those years ago, the stars in the sky the only audience watching us.