Yes Mike sees an opportunity

Mike closed the folder on the counter, his broad frame leaning in closer until his shadow completely fell over Maya. The quiet apartment felt shrinkingly small as he held her gaze, his expression dropping all pretense of casual neighborliness for something far more calculated.

"Look, Maya," Mike began, his voice dropping into a low, persuasive murmur. "If we're going to do this campaign—if we're going to be on TV and giant billboards across the city—we have to look completely natural together. Directors pick up on the smallest flinch. If we look like strangers touching for the first time when the cameras roll, the whole thing falls apart."

Maya blinked, her hands still resting on the grocery bags, her mind racing to process his logic.

"What I'm thinking," Mike continued, stepping just half a pace closer so his chest was nearly brushing her shoulder, "is that we need to practice. You know, get used to the kind of touching real couples do, holding hands, casual touches, even kissing. That way, when they ask us to be a loving couple on screen, we won't hesitate or flinch. It'll just be second nature. What do you think?"

The suggestion hung heavy in the air between them. For the first time all morning, a sudden, sharp coldness prickled at the back of Maya’s neck. Up until now, every compliment, every touch, and even the forehead kiss in the supermarket had felt like an exciting, flattering whirlwind—a boost of validation that her newly transformed body was genuinely attractive to the outside world. But practicing intimate touching? Kissing another man?

She looked up at Mike, her bright green eyes wide and conflicted. She didn't want to hurt his feelings or sound ungrateful for all his help, but the easy excitement of the morning was suddenly tangled in a boundary she wasn't sure she was willing to push, even under the guise of “practice”.