Page 44 of Off the Mark
I shoved the sweaty bangs off my forehead and opened the door leading back to the convention center lobby. I needed to get my shit together—all of it, and fast—but then I turned the corner only to find my fake boyfriend coming my way, strolling past groups of people with a casual self-assurance. He either didn’t realize that some of those people were stopping to stare at him or he didn’t care.
Because his dark, mischievous eyes were fixed solely on mine. A moment later and they dropped, taking in my appearance with a gaze that lingered.
That’s when I realized what I looked like. And probably smelled like. While Rowan wore nice jeans and a white linen button-down that stretched to fit his extremely broad shoulders.
“Let me guess,” he said as he reached me, “you missed me so much it’s like torture?”
I bit my lip but I was still smiling. Way too visibly. “Do you start all of your dates by talking shit?”
His eyes crinkled at the sides. “Only the ones with you, Maddox. I’m here a little early, but in my defense, I wasn’t expecting on bumping into you like this. I thought I’d have fifteen more minutes to wait by myself.”
“First date nerves really got ya, huh?”
He passed a hand over the buttons on his shirt. “Is it that undeniable? Tabitha put this outfit together for me. She called thismorning coffee chic, and Dean made a grunt of approval, so I’m hopin’ I look okay?”
Rowan was flirting, as usual, but the burst of sincerity that hung on the end of his question was painfullyadorable. Given my frazzled mental state post-workout, I wasn’t sure my body could handle it.
Then he reached his hand forward and hooked his fingers through mine, gently tugging me an inch closer. Because I’d asked him here, on purpose, so that fans could see us. So I could ensure that when my sponsors saw articles referring to me as anotorious party girltheyalsosaw me with a devoted boyfriend.
And the smart thing to do would be to stop scowling up at him because he had the audacity to look both hotandadorable, all at once.
“You look…good.” I managed.
He ducked to catch my attention. “Can you say that a little louder for your boyfriend?”
I huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine, you look super hot in that shirt.”
“You look super hot too, by the way.”
I arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “I was hoping to look, and smell, less of a mess before charming the fans with our over-the-top romance.”
“It’s impossible for you to look like a mess.”
“Even after a race? When I’m covered in mud and even more sweat?”
His eyes did that long, lazy perusal again. “I like what I like, Charlie. And I always thought you looked sexy as hell covered in mud.”
It was suddenly impossible to swallow. “Nice to know you like the natural look.”
“I’m a simple man,” he said with a wink. “You wanna get to that coffee date or what?”
I took a step back and flashed my room key. “Give me ten minutes to rinse off the worst of it. And you can get those ten minutes you wanted for your date nerves.”
He cocked his head to a low couch. “I’ll be over there being nervous when you’re ready.”
His stare pressed into the space between my shoulder blades, all the way across the lobby and into the first bank of elevators. For the duration of my quick shower, I convinced myself that my rapid heart rate was caused by the treadmill, and not Rowan’s silky drawl as he told me I lookedsexy as hell.
After, I pulled on clean clothes, grabbed my sandals, and managed to make my hair look semi-normal with an obscene amount of dry shampoo. And when I darted back to those same elevators, the way my stomach pitched and swooped like a flock of sparrows wasobviouslycaused by the descent to the lobby.
Rowan was waiting when I got there, standing in the middle of the dirt bike exhibitions, the milling fans, the excited chatter. The sight of him arrested me like it had ten minutes earlier, but this time I fixed a sweet smile on my face. A girlfriendly smile.
The smile he sent back was too wicked for an innocent coffee date.
“How are those nerves?” I asked.
“Rampant. How was missing me? Tortuous?”
I scratched the top of my head, squinting up at the ceiling. “Were you gone? I didn’t notice.”
