Page 60 of The Fake Date Deal

Static screeched and I wobbled. Covered my ears. Then my name came again, and I stumbled toward it. My knight had come home, and he was calling for me.

CHAPTER 24

MARCO

Igrabbed the bullhorn off the emcee who was announcing my win. Bad manners? Yeah, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was, Eve was running away. I couldn’t let her. Never again.

“Eve,” I howled. “Eve!”

I scanned the crowd. Nothing. But she had to be close, still. Close enough she could hear. I raised up the bullhorn, but Rafael grabbed it.

“Give me that. Idiot!”

I jerked it away. The mouthpiece rubbed on my jacket, firing off static. I still couldn’t see her, but I tried anyway, filling my lungs to roar over the crowd.

“Eve, it’s me! Marco! You— you make me better.”

Rafael grabbed for the horn again, but I twisted away.

“You make everything better. All that you touch. I want you to know, this day, this race, the man I am today?—”

A raw, savage cheer went up, so loud my ears rang. Could Eve even hear me over all that? I bawled out her name like a bull in a field, but my horn squealed with feedback. Hoots rose from the crowd. The emcee snatched the horn back and I sagged where I stood. Eve — Eve, where was she? Had she run away? Why had she come, just to ditch me again?

Rafael was laughing. Cameras closing in. I swung my head left and right, trying to see through the flashes. She wouldn’t have come this far, only to leave me. She had to be out there, here somewhere. Waiting.

“Eve!”

“You mean Eve Hansley? Is she here tonight?”

“Are you two back together?”

“Did you not break up?”

I jumped down, frantic, and pushed through the press. I had to get to her, no time to spare. Shutters whirred all around and I ran without direction, trying to think on my feet where she’d be hiding. My car, maybe? But she’d need the keys. The bathrooms? The drivers’ rooms? Could she even get in there?

“Marco! Can I get your autograph?” A plump little kid ran up, holding out a T-shirt. It had my face printed over the front. I smiled at him, still peering over his head.

“Got a pen, bud?”

“Ma?”

His mother dug through her big, messy purse. She seemed to take forever, checking every pocket. After an eternity, she came up empty. “Sorry, kid, uh… Use my eyeliner?” She held it out to me and I snatched it rudely, scribbling my name across my printed forehead. The kid squealed and bounced. His mother shook her head.

“What do we say?”

“Thank you, thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, and you have a great day.” I handed the shirt back, and his mother’s eyeliner, and took off half-sprinting before more fans could find me. I raced for the drivers’ rooms, knowing I’d missed her. Knowing she’d waited and I hadn’t come, and now it was blown, my very last chance. All because?—

“Marco!”

I spun around. “Eve!”

She was standing half-hidden behind a shuttered ice cream cart, halfway between the drivers’ rooms and the garage. I laughed at the sight of her, loose with relief.

“What are you doing hiding back there? Come to my room, and we’ll?—”

“Rafael’s team is in there.”

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