Page 31 of Off the Mark
He leveled me with a cheeky grin. “Absolutely fucking zero.That’swhy he’ll know I’m lying. Don’t you have a friend you want to tell? Who’s the person who immediately sees through your bullshit?”
I don’t have a person like that,I almost said. Almost. But I didn’t have the heart to admit I didn’t have much in the way of friends. More like friendly acquaintances I could go to a bar with after a race.
Not someone like Dean, that’s for sure.
Things might have been different if I hadn’t spent so much of my school-age years busy with starting my racing career—or busy trying to cover all of our bills. It made talking to my school friends about trivial social drama or homework questions nearly impossible.
“Can Dean and Tabitha keep a secret like this?” I asked, dodging his question.
“Hell yeah, they can. Not only can they keep it, they’ll know how to play it cool around the nosy busybodies on 10th Street, which includes my grandmother. The nosiest busybody of all. Dean and I have been each other’s alibis since we were kids. We know how to play this game. And if we can sell our pretend love story to all the old gossips in South Philly, it’ll spread like wildfire without us even trying.”
I was quiet for a moment, avoiding his gaze and watching the day’s sports highlights on the screen across the bar. I’d chosen Rowan because he was my friend and I trusted him. To an extent. How did you rely on people not to screw you over?
How did you willingly hand over the tools they needed to do you dirty?
“Charlie. It’s not negotiable,” he said, catching my eye and keeping it. “I believe we can pull this off, but I’ve got to be honest with the people I’m closest to.”
Don’t you have a friend you want to tell?
“Sure. Right. I get it,” I finally said, forcing a smile. “We’re agreeing to lie, on purpose, to a lot of people. It’s a little nerve-racking, to say the least.”
His expression grew teasing. “Is Charlie Maddox having a crisis of conscience?”
I snorted. “No fucking way. We both know athletes who have donea lotworse than use a romance for some favorable publicity. It’s a harmless crime. No one gets hurt. And in the end, we both get what we want.”
Rowan regarded me with a flirtatious look I knew well. “And is there anything else you want out of this arrangement, Maddox? Because if this is some complicated ploy to get me into your bed, you only have to ask.”
I wrinkled my nose as he laughed. “I’ll remind you that I don’t need ploys, Rowan. Definitely wouldn’t need a ploy to seduceyou. Your desperation is glaringly obvious. Has been for years.”
He laughed even louder. “Damn, I forgot how fun it was to mess around with you.”
“Sure, yeah,mess around,” I murmured,notsounding disappointed. He was opening his notebook and clicking open his pen. “Are you serious with that thing?”
“Aren’t you? We need to figure out how to convince people we’re in love.” He nodded down at the blank page. “I’m here for all that sweet, sweet research, babe.”
I hid a smile. “Pro tip. Don’t call mebabe.”
“Sweetheart then. What are you gonna call me?”
“Dickhead. And I’m not a sweetheart.”
Still grinning, Rowan stuck his hand out. “Are we really doin’ this? Fake dating for a couple of miracles?”
I took his hand with a cool smirk. “We sure are. Babe.”
He winked. “Can’t say I hate it.”
His fingers pressed into my skin. They were a little rough. Calloused. And very, very strong.
They were the sure, confident hands of a man who sent baseballs hurtling at ninety miles an hour toward home plate, sixty feet away.
I squeezed back once, heart in my throat. Then let go, all too aware of how unbearably aroused that quick touch had made me.
Rowan didn’t seem to notice, holding up two fingers at the bartender for a second round. “Now that we’ve shaken on it, let’s figure out how we’re going to convince people we’re madly in love.”
10
ROWAN
