Page 48 of Off the Mark
I managed to hide my smile behind my mug, though Mr. Hottest Friend himself was busy looking way too self-satisfied.
“Will you bring all that charm to the potential donors that will be there?” I asked.
“If all goes to plan, then yeah,” he said—and beneath the cocky tilt of his mouth, I could tell he was worried. “What should I wear to this shindig that will impress them?”
I tapped my nose. “Full clown suit. Orange wig and face paint. A bow tie and suspenders. Those big shoes if you got ’em.”
He cocked his thumb and forefinger and clicked his teeth. “You got it, babe.”
“And uh…you’re gonna do great, Rowan,” I said quickly. “Once all those people find out what you do for your neighborhood, and what’s going to happen without that funding, they’ll be lobbing money at you so fast you won’t be able to keep up.”
He peered at me for a second. “Thanks for having my back on this, Maddox. I appreciate it.”
“Wait until you realize that you have to escort me to a gala dinner, ten days from now,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
He whistled under his breath. “I only ever went to a couple of those when I was in the major leagues. Motocross is big time now.”
“Getting bigger and bigger every year,” I admitted. “But it’s a sport that relies on private cash to stay successful, so at things like this they trot out the riders so they can meet us. A ton of potential donors will be at that gala, plus some will be at the two final races before the championship.”
The wordchampionshipset off a burst of anxious jitters. But Rowan was nodding along like he hadn’t noticed, typing the dates into his phone calendar.
“Should be no problem, I can come to all of them.” His eyes slid up to meet mine. “And after the championship race, we’ll…”
“Break up,” I said, aiming for casual. “Probably not right away, so it doesn’t seem too convenient. But I’ve got a big race in Miami immediately after this, and since you won’t be there, I can let it slip somehow that it’s over. Amicably. No hard feelings or whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll break up, sure,” he said smoothly. “If the press or a fan ever asks me, I’ll say something about how you weretooperfect of a girlfriend and I couldn’t handle being around a woman that beautiful. It’s distracting. A man has towork, you know?”
“My beauty was a distraction,” I deadpanned, trying not to smile.
“It’s totally a thing. Did you ever see me play pool at Jolene’s?”
“You played pool? I only ever saw you at the bar.”
His mouth curved. “Exactly. I wasn’t trying to poke my fucking eye out while you were around.Distracting me.”
I pressed my lips together as tightly as I could. He was playing our old game,tryingto get me to smile. And I was about to blow it because talking about breaking up with Rowan—breaking up something that wasn’t evenreal—was obliterating my concentration.
“You’re gonna do it,” he teased.
“I’m not.”
“Maddox, they can see you smiling from the Phillies’ stadium.”
“How is that possible when I’m not—”
A loud, throat-clearing sound came from our right. A trio of women stood there, decked head-to-toe in motocross swag—hats, tank tops, buttons on their bags.
The first woman raised her hand in a shy, bright wave. “We’re sorry to interrupt, but we spotted you coming in, and are you…Charlie Maddox? Because if you are, we arehugefans.”
I straightened on the stool and brushed my bangs to the side. “That’s me, though usually I like to meet fans not after a sweaty run, while shoveling eggs in my face.”
The second woman made a sound of disbelief. “Oh, please, you’re gorgeous every day of the week.”
“I’ve always thought so,” Rowan said.
The three fans swiveled toward him, and from their sly glances, I guessed they’d been checking us out for a while.
“Rowan O’Callaghan,” he said, holding out his hand to shake. “I’m Charlie’s boyfriend.”
