Page 62 of Off the Mark
I cocked my head his way. “So Ishouldgo punch him in the face?”
“You’ll have to wait in line,” she said, then studied me, looking pleasantly intrigued. “I can see why Charlie likes you, Rowan. You seem good together. Really goodforeach other. I’ve known her for a long time, and she’s always been reluctant to open up. When we first met, back when I was training with her dad, she was a scared kid with too much responsibility. There weren’t a lot of people in her life she could trust. I can see why she chose you.”
My stomach flipped. “And why is that?”
“You were friends first, right? At that bar near Syracuse?”
I rubbed the back of my neck with a bashful grin. “Yeah, because Charlie shot me downconstantly. I was trying too hard to impress her.”
Dempsey returned my smile, still peering at me like a puzzle she’d just figured out. “On the rare occasion I’ve seen Charlie with a boyfriend, the guy always seemed like an easyyes. Easy to date but also easy to dump. You don’t seem like that kind of guy to her.”
I was way more like Charlie than Dempsey even realized. Every woman I’d ever been with had been an easyyestoo. An easysure, seems fun, why not?
Only Charlie had been a challenge.
Only Charlie had been impossible to forget.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a blur of blond hair and red lips, charging off the stage. Dempsey and I turned at the same time to see Charlie pushing through a side door and leaving, though the public speaking portion of the night wasn’t close to done.
“Dammit,” Dempsey swore.
“I’ll go get her,” I said. “Can you keep that James dickhead out of the lobby?”
“You got it.”
I moved through the crowd and out into the lobby, scanning for colorful tattoos and a haughty expression. At the very end, I saw Charlie slip through a long hallway, and I followed.
People were definitely watching us.
I peered around the hallways and spotted her—shoulders hunched, her fingers massaging her forehead. I halted, mid-step. From her body language, I could tell she was still angry, but wasn’t sure if she wanted company or to rage by herself. She had every right to walk out after what James had done, but she’d asked for a fake boyfriend for a reason—her reputation—and I didn’t want the brewing situation to worsen.
So I planted myself in a large armchair, visible to nosy fans but close enough to the hallway that I could snag her. Which was exactly what I did a minute later when Charlie walked right past me. Her cheeks blazed red, and a few strands of hair had fallen from her bun.
I caught her wrist and she spun, still scowling, then froze when she realized it was me.
“There’s my beautiful girlfriend,” I drawled. “I missed you.”
Her body relaxed almost immediately. “Obsessed much?”
I tugged her onto my lap. “You already know the answer to that question, gorgeous.”
“Whatever happened tocupcake? I was starting to like the sound of it.”
“Liar,” I teased. “And ‘gorgeous’ suits you better.”
I’d been acting in the moment, encouraging Charlie to sit on my lap, and didn’t realize how fucking stupid that idea was until I fully took in the warmth and weight of her body curled into mine. The position put her face a few inches above me, allowing her to stare down with a brash tilt to her red mouth.
I liked that. A lot.
My cock twitched, pressing to the zipper in my pants. I curved one hand up the powerful muscle of her thigh, then gripped her waist. I used the other to brush the hair from those pretty green eyes.
Up close, irritation still simmered there. And the rigid set to her shoulders told me she was pretending to be the carefree girlfriend but was actually furious.
“Hey,” I murmured softly, “that reporter sucked, and I figured you wanted to be alone and angry. Which I support. But as your fake boyfriend, I thought a better story, reputation-wise, would be that I waited out here to drag you onto my lap because Iamobsessed and can’t keep my goddamn hands off you.”
I nudged my nose at her jaw. “I’m still an amateur here, so if that’s not a good—”
“No, that’s…that’s perfect.” She sounded a little out of breath. “I’m glad you’re making smart decisions at least. Bettencourt’s going to hate the way I handled myself in there. Walking off stage during the break is only gonna make it worse. It’s the type of shit my dad used to do.”
