The only thing I managed to do was lock down a time when Teresa and Avery could bring the guys and come to the Academy. Excitement poured through Avery’s voice on the phone at the prospect of achieving what had long since been a dream of hers and Teresa’s, and she also couldn’t wait to tell Cam he would be having dinner with his idol.
Scheduling things with people who had kids or were ready to pop one out proved to be difficult. We were looking at the second week of November, a Friday evening.
And now I was on my way to this dinner with the investors, and all I wanted to do was eat that bag of Cheetos while curled up on the couch, marathoning old episodes of Supernatural.
That wasn’t going to happen.
“You okay over there?”
Tearing my attention from the window, my gaze flickered over the interior of the extremely expensive car. I’d never really paid attention to the cars in the parking lot, and since I usually arrived and left before Brock, I didn’t know what he drove.
But I wasn’t surprised to see that it was a sleek, black two-door Porsche waiting for me Wednesday morning. Seeing the car made me want to ask Brock once more why he’d taken this position. I knew he’d agreed that he could live comfortably without working, so it wasn’t like he’d blown through all the money from his fights and sponsorships like so many athletes did.
I glanced over at Brock and felt an unsteady flip in my chest. His eyes were on the road as he turned left, onto Route 45.
I’d never been a facial-hair kind of girl. Ever. But the scruff of his was filling in, and it looked good on him. Way good. I couldn’t help but think what it would feel like when he kissed—
Okay.
So didn’t need to think about that.
Bad life choice right there.
“Yeah,” I answered, focusing straight ahead as I smoothed my hands over the pencil skirt I’d worn. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
I widened my eyes. Not like I was going to tell him exactly what was on my mind, but I said, “I’m nervous.”
“What’s got you nervous?” he asked, and when I glanced over at him, I saw that his gaze had been briefly on me before he refocused on the road.
“This whole . . . wining and dining thing is not my forte,” I admitted.
“Oh, I think it’s up your alley.”
I snorted like a little piglet, one of those tiny, fat ones. “I think you’re on drugs.”
“And I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit,” he replied. “You grew up with these guys coming in and out of the Academy. You know how to talk to them. You know how to handle them.”
I turned back to the passenger window as a reluctant half-grin pulled at my lips. “It’s not the same as then, though.
“How so?” he challenged.
Fiddling with the strap on my seatbelt, I decided I could be honest about why I was nervous. It wasn’t easy. As soon as I started speaking, my cheeks heated. “You . . . you remember that I can’t hear out of my right ear?” I kept going, not giving him a chance to say something. “When I’m with groups of people and there’s a lot of background noise, it can be hard for me to follow the conversation. The meetings at the office aren’t too bad,” I added in a rush. “It’s quiet, so it’s not hard to follow, but restaurants sometimes can be the worst.”
“I know,” Brock said after a moment. “I wasn’t thinking the Friday I saw you at the restaurant and stood on your right side. Sorry about that.”
I glanced at him sharply, having forgotten that he’d done that. “It’s okay. People forget. It happens.”
“That wasn’t cool of me,” he continued, one hand draped over the steering wheel. “I took that into consideration. We have one of the more private booths in the back of the restaurant where it should be quieter. I’ll be sitting to your right, so our guests will be to your left and across from you.”
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. Part of me was relieved to learn he had taken my hearing into consideration, lessening the possibility of that becoming an issue. The other half of me was embarrassed he had to take that into consideration. And all of me was annoyed that I was embarrassed in the first place. My partial hearing was a fact of life now. I shouldn’t be ashamed.
Annoyed, my fingers tightened around the strap. “I hate that I’m embarrassed by it,” I admitted, unable to stop myself.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“I know. I know I shouldn’t. I guess . . .”
“You don’t like the attention it brings,” he said, surprising me because he hit the nail right on the head. “You were never big on being the center of attention.”
A dry laugh parted my lips. “I prefer to be an observer.” Feeling his hand on mine, I stopped talking and looked down. His fingers were gently working mine from the strap. Sucking in a shallow breath, I looked over at him.
Brock was still focused on the road. “If you keep twisting the seatbelt like that, you’re going to twist it right off.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, because that was all I could say. He’d lowered my left hand to my thigh and hadn’t let go. His large hand completely covered mine and the tips of his fingers were resting against my upper thigh.
My heart leapt in my chest, slamming against my ribs as I stared at his shadowy profile. My mouth dried, and I didn’t pull my hand out from his. I was mostly frozen, except for my mouth. Unfortunately. “Are you and Kristen still together?” I wanted to smack myself upside the head the moment I asked that question, because I really didn’t need to know the answer.