Page 59 of Off the Mark
“Nah, I’m golden. Are you still nervous about tonight?”
I hesitated, realizing he had done a decent job of distracting me. “Much less than I was.”
A harried-looking person with a headset rushed up just then. “Charlie Maddox? The panel is starting in fifteen minutes, if you could please come with me?”
“I’ll be right there,” I promised. And when I turned back to Rowan, he very softly kissed my cheek again.
“Go kick some ass,” he whispered. “I’ll be in the audience if you need anything.”
And I leaned into him without a second thought.
15
ROWAN
Charlie strode towards the stage, but not before flashing a very pretty smile at me over her shoulder.
It was clearly for the audience. Clearly for the fans.
Which made it all fake.
My brain knew that. My body sure as hell didn’t.
I didn’t have to force the look of minor obsession on my face as I watched my pretend girlfriend move through the crowd. I’d been painfully, desperately into Charlie Maddox from the moment we met.
My lust for her itched under the skin, a constant distraction. Even now, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, couldn’t stop staring at the nape of her neck, her bloodred lips, her leisurely swaying hips.
She’d been understandably nervous back in the hotel room, but that wasn’t the case now. She climbed the stairs to the stage with her chin raised proudly and her shoulders thrown back.
I wanted to taste the curve between her neck and her shoulder with my fucking teeth.
I knew what it was like to want something you could never have. There’d been a time in my life when I wanted my shoulder to be magically fixed, when all I thought about were the lights, the stadium, the pitcher’s mound beneath my cleats. Used to wake up dreaming about my fingers sliding over the leather stitching, the way my palm understood the shape of a baseball better than anything else.
Now here I was again, staring at Charlie and probably looking as starved as I felt.
I dragged a hand down my face. I had a list of names she had clearly spent a lot of time on—and less than fifteen minutes to charm this Steven guy, who was still lurking near the bar.
I scanned the list again, my thumb stroking across her handwriting.Pennsylvania native, she’d scrawled.Gives to a lot of charities, lives out in the suburbs, huge sports fan.
There were at least twenty names on here, each one with facts and details. It was worrying, how happy I’d been when she handed this to me. The same sweet warmth had flooded my chest as the day she’d sent all that food.
I figured that wasn’t a good sign.
I took a big breath and made my way over to the bar, where Steve was in the process of ordering another beer. A surge of nerves spiraled through my veins, surprising me.
Charlie was right, as usual. I was nervous.
But I kept my focus on a memory from today at the rec center—getting to Elaine’s office early and finding a handmade card taped to the door. The picture was a lopsided circle with lines shooting out, what looked to be three or four eyes in the middle of it. Beneath it read:Thank you Mr. Rowan. You are doing an awesome job!!!!!
So I sent up a quick prayer to the gods of nonprofit fundraising and went for it. Raising a finger, I leaned an elbow on the bar. “I’ll take another one of those beers if ya got it?”
The bartender nodded, pouring me a glass that was as cold as it was frothy. I made eye contact with Steve and lifted it.
“Cheers. Are you here for motocross too?”
He nodded enthusiastically, then clinked his glass against mine. He looked to be in his fifties or sixties, white with gray hair and an outfit that saidI’m wealthy but also relaxed.
“I sure am,” he replied, then shook my hand. “Steve Duncan. I’m a huge moto fan.Huge. And I’m sorry to have been so obviously spying on you, but are you…withCharlie Maddox?”
