Page 103 of Off the Mark
The ground rose to meet you, whether you were ready or not.
But Rowan kept gifting me pieces of his trust. Kept being truthful in these tender moments. Even scared, I wanted to meet him in the middle, free fall or not. Here in his bed, naked and happy, surrounded by warm sheets and summer sun, how could I not see this next part as inevitable?
“You were but I’m uninviting you,” I finally said. “I don’t want you there as my pretend boyfriend. Not for show or to help my reputation. I wantyou, Rowan. To be there, with me, for real.”
He cupped my face, stroking his thumb across my cheek. “I would love nothing more.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Good. If not, I’d have to bust out that cardboard cutout I had made of you two weeks ago and Ithink,though I can’t be sure, everyone would eventually notice.”
He reared up to catch my mouth in a scorching kiss. “The only one taking you to that damn gala is me, Charlie. The real me.”
24
CHARLIE
Adrink arrived as soon as I sat at the bar.
I took the martini glass by the stem and said, “For me?”
The bartender shrugged. “The group of folks over there clocked you as soon as you came in and wanted to send it right away. I figured they were fans of yours. Anyway, cheers.”
She stepped away, cocktail shaker in hand, and I reached into my wallet to leave her a giant cash tip. I sipped the martini—vodka, three olives,perfect—and waved down at the women who’d sent it.
It was from Riley and Quinn.
They were otherwise occupied by their people chatting with them. From the looks of it, team members from Archer’s Angels and some stray, overly excited fans. But I swiped open Instagram and sent them both a message in the text chain we were in.
Thanks for the drink. Should help with my pre-gala nerves. Also, how did you know I was a martini girl?
I watched the three dots beneath my message. Riley sent:We’re coming over to say hey if that’s okay?
A pause and then:We knew because you’re fucking cool.
I glanced up and waved, feeling shyly awkward when they walked up together with matching smiles. Awkward but also hopeful. I’d been chatting with Riley, Quinn, and the rest of their teammates ever since they approached me after the last race and hadn’t expected to feel nervously excited about their attention, like I was the new kid at summer camp.
I clinked my glass against both of theirs. “Happy championship gala. You both look amazing.”
Quinn squeezed her arm around Riley’s waist—she wore a short, sparkly dress while Riley rocked a blue pantsuit. “Hey there yourself, cool girl. Is your closet comprised of only fabulous jumpsuits?”
I recrossed my legs and winked. This jumpsuit was cut similarly to the one I’d worn at the press event, but instead of black, it was a deep shade of plum, the straps crisscrossing over my chest to tie around my neck. I wasobviouslywearing it to impress Rowan—myvery real dateto this dinner—and was just grateful it wasn’t noticeable that five panicky outfit changes had preceded this one.
“You’re not far off,” I said. “My closet is essentially this, racing pants, and mud-splattered boots.”
“You’re a moto fashion icon,” Riley said, pale cheeks growing as pink as her hair. “And yep, now here I am, once again coming on too strong and sounding like a weirdo.”
I shook my head with a laugh. “Please. Everyone in this room is trying to be totally chill aroundyou. Including me. Or another possibility is that we can be weirdos together?”
“I’ll take weirdos, please,” Riley said, while her girlfriend beamed and finished her drink. “You know, whether or not you ever join our team, I’m glad we got to meet at the very end. Will you be at the race in Miami the first weekend in September?”
I hesitated, realizing with a start that I was scheduled to be and had planned to float rumors there that Rowan and I had broken up, per the terms of our fake relationship. I’d been deliriously happy andextremelydistracted the past couple days, between meeting Rowan’s family and then embarking on our day-long sex fest.
Though I did allow him to drag me from his bed on three separate occasions for food. And once for a long, sexy shower.
Our conversation throughout had been as breezy as ever, and Rowan made it his mission to have me laughing nonstop. It was like as soon as I’d broached the topic of scrapping our fake dating, any remaining limitations had fallen blissfully away.
What we were going to doafterthe championship race, however, hadn’t been discussed at all.
I gulped my martini, and the vodka burned on the way down. I wasn’t sure what was making me more uneasy—knowing that what happened next between us was still up in the air.
