ADA

I can't believe no one's noticed you yet." I study the stream of people passing by us though Central Park: couples holding hands, people yammering into cell phones, others so preoccupied with whatever their dogs are doing they barely bother looking up at all. Nobody gives us a second glance.

"If you pretend like you're just one of the crowd, everyone assumes you are. The secret is to avoid eye contact," Liam says, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing over at me in a way that makes my heart do somersaults beneath my sternum.

I want him to hold my hand again, but there's no photographers out here, so he obviously has no reason to. Except there weren't any paparazzi inside the Plaza either, and I don't know what that means.

Our feet tread against the asphalt in rhythm with the sound of honking horns that fills the thick, summer air even this deep into the park. The sun is setting, making the canopy of leaves above us glow.

"Is that what you want?" I ask. "For no one to notice you, I mean."

Liam sighs. "Usually, yeah. I'd love to go to dinner with my friends and not need to sneak out the back door afterward. To walk down a sidewalk without getting mobbed or go for a run without some photographer snapping photos of me."

He nudges my arm, and I bite my lip, feeling an unexpected twinge of guilt. I've never felt bad about taking pictures of celebrities before. But spending time with Liam is making me question things I don't want to be questioning.

"I love my job," Liam continues. "And I know how lucky I am to be able to do it. But having to work with the paparazzi to promote projects, to promote myself, it's hard for me. I've got a, uh, complicated history with the press."

I hold my breath, waiting to see if he's going to tell me more. We've spent hours together today, and once again, I haven't bothered to try and figure out what he's hiding.

Even if I did, I don't know if I could actually go through with helping Agnes expose it. Grams would be so disappointed in me if she knew what was going through my head. I shouldn't even be thinking about guys right now. And I definitely shouldn't be letting myself feel things for someone I'm supposed to only be spending time with to land my dream job.

But the fact that Liam didn't have his publicist tip off the paps about our location today has me fifty shades of confused.

I peek up at him, but the expression in his eyes is closed like someone's hung a 'Do Not Enter' sign there. He starts toying with a hole near the collar of his shirt.

"Can I ask you a question?" I say.

"That depends." His tone is wary.

"What's the deal with the t-shirt?"

Liam laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been trying to make it look like all the shots the paparazzi take are from the same day, so the rags will stop buying them."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Not great." He chuckles.

"I don't get it. You're trying to avoid photographers, and yet here you are, strolling through the park with your fake photographer girlfriend."

I kick at a loose piece of gravel, and it takes me a couple steps to realize Liam's stopped walking. I turn around, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

He's standing there, looking at me, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that makes my head spin.

A muscle in his jaw works as he studies my face. "Is this still fake for you?"

My face fills with heat as I scramble for an answer. If I tell him the truth, and he doesn't feel the same way, he might back out of our deal, which would not only be humiliating, it could cost me my job.

"I...well, is it still fake for you?"

The street lights lining either side of the walkway flick on around us as the sky turns from burnt orange to deep purple.

Liam takes a step into me. It's impossible to think with him standing this close. A strand comes loose from my ponytail, tickling my cheek. He reaches forward, tucking it behind my ear. My skin tingles where his fingers brushed against it.

"Ace—" Liam breathes the word. It's barely more than a whisper.

Flash.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

I whip my head around to see a paparazzo, camera pressed to his eye, barreling toward us. Three more race up behind him, shouting our names.

Oh, no.

I glance over at Liam, expecting him to be furious, but to my surprise, he's grinning down at me. "Think you can manage to run without falling on your face?"

"That was one time. Also, I make no promises."

Liam laughs, grabbing my hand and tugging me after him as we take off, flat-out sprinting through the park as a mob of paparazzi chase after us.

We weave between people, dodging bicycles and rollerbladers and leaving several dogs barking in our wake. I run with everything I've got as my camera bag slams against my hip.

Liam never lets go of my hand, which is something you wouldn't think I'd be so consumed with while being hunted by a horde of photographers. But I'm all too aware of the way his long fingers feel threaded through mine. We've held hands so many times, but this feels different somehow.

Our feet pound against the pavement, and blood whooshes in my ears. Liam looks over at me, smiling hugely and whoops. The look on his face is so open, so free, it sets my pulse soaring. I echo him, letting out a loud "Woo!"

I haven't run like this, carefree and wild, since I was a kid. The warm air grazes my cheeks, and my hair streams in a tangled banner behind me. I laugh, which does nothing for my lung capacity, but I don't care. Because Liam's holding my hand, and I'm flying.

We're faster than the photogs, but they aren't far behind.

I follow Liam around a corner, but instead of continuing down the trail, we dash down the stone staircase of Bethesda Terrace.

"Hurry," Liam whispers as we hustle across the patio and duck down behind the ledge of the fountain. The sky fades to black, cloaking us in darkness. Water cascades from the famous Angel of the Waters statue. It mists across my face as I peek over the lip and see a few paps dart across the bridge above us.

"Where'd they go? Did you see?" One of the photogs yells as he bolts past. His voice is shrill as he whips his head from side-to-side like he's watching a ping-pong tournament in fast forward. I clap a hand over my mouth, trying to stop a giggle, but the poor guy is so oblivious, it slips out anyway.

"Shhhh." Liam bends down. His mouth grazes my ear, causing a riot of goosebumps to erupt across my neck. He has one hand wrapped around my hip, and my back is flush against his chest. I'm achingly aware of the steady rhythm of his heart beating against my shoulder.

We huddle like that as several more photographers rush by.

"I think they're gone," I whisper, turning my face toward Liam's as their footsteps fade.

His eyes flicker between mine, and his throat bobs. "We should probably take cover just in case." He helps me up, and we hurry inside the terrace.

Our footsteps echo against the ornate columns that divide the cavernous space. I glance up at the geometric pattern of the elaborate tile work that covers the walls and ceiling, glowing in the golden light.

"You know, for a walking disaster, you're surprisingly fast." The smile that curves Liam's lips could melt a freaking glacier.

"Yeah, well, it's all the green juice."

Liam lets out a laugh as he leans back against one of the stone columns. He takes both my hands in his, so we're standing face-to-face. The world falls away, and it's like everything that matters hangs in the space between us.

"I want to take you on a date, Ace." Liam's low voice reverberates through me. I swear, I can feel it all the way down to the tips of my toes.

He reaches out, tentatively, nervously as his hands wrap around my waist. I lean into him until we're only a breath apart. His fingers glide up my back, sparking across my skin.

I keep my eyes fixed on the planes of his chest, afraid that if I look up, I might actually drown in those blue eyes. "When you say date, are you talking about another photo opp, or..." I trail off.

Liam places his hands on either side of my face, thumbs brushing across my cheeks as he tilts my chin up. Our gazes lock, and the wanting that unspools inside my chest steals the breath from my lungs.

"No. Not a photo opp." Liam's eyes drop to my lips, making my heart stutter.

It's a good thing he's holding onto me, because my knees turn to water. I can't move. Can't breathe. All I can think to say is, "Yes." I'm not even sure if that makes sense.

My gaze follows his, drifting to his mouth. We stand there frozen for one agonizingly delicious moment. The night around us is alive, charged with excitement, and anticipation, and just a hint of awkwardness.

And then Liam presses his lips to mine.

It's like shooting stars on summer nights. Like the first rays of sunshine on your skin after a rainstorm. His lips are soft, but his kiss is firm. It feels like we've done this a million times before. Like his lips have always been meant to kiss mine.

My heart swells inside my chest like a balloon filling with helium. I'm so swept up in him, I feel like I'm floating. I don't ever want to come back down.

Liam's hands tangle in my hair as he trails kisses along my jaw, igniting a fire deep inside my belly. And then I'm crushing my mouth to his, lips parting, breaths tangling, and—

Flash.

We jump apart.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Spots dance, obscuring my vision. I squint and can just make out Chrissy, standing not even five feet away, camera aimed right at us.