Page 110 of It's Always Us

Oh, man. Falling isn’t even close to what’s happening. This man is wrecking me. Totally and completely . . . for good.

Chapter 32

LEX

Mark slides out of the black Audi Q5 and reaches for my hand. I grip it as if I’m stepping out onto a teetering ledge. My palm is slick with sweat, but it doesn’t faze him. He takes a firm hold, linking our fingers like he’s afraid I’ll bolt.

He’s smart because I might. I seriously might tuck a hand under these babies and hightail it right back to Ohio, where I can slather myself with grease and linger among car parts, not having to be seen or known.

But then I look at his beautiful face. He smiles and nods to fans, and even though I’m paralyzed and sick with fear, this is where I want to be.

For years, I’ve longed for this, and here I am, in this surreal world, standing beside him as cameras flash in the distance. People are everywhere. As if Mark knows I need it, he pulls me close, his lips pressing against my hair, which hangs in long, loose waves like a shield around me.

“Just breathe. We’ll walk through, and then inside, it’ll be better.”

My stomach rejects his calming attempts as it rolls with nerves. Beautiful people surround us dressed in designer suits, gowns, and jewelry, likely costing more than my entire lifetime earnings. Mark raises a hand at someone yelling his name and moves us toward the red carpet.

Just before we enter the danger zone, he pulls me to the side, hiding us behind the giant, shiny archway.

“It won’t take long to get through here. I won’t leave you.” He smiles, but it doesn’t have its normal deescalating effect. “You are absolutely breathtaking.”

I want to scoff, but I don’t. My eyes fall to the dusk blue form-fitting lacey dress. The V-neck and cap sleeves are flattering, especially with the new bra Krissy made me buy to hold my growing boobs. Given my hormonal state and the impending hot flash, I’m grateful it’s knee-length. It’s the nude heels I’m wobbling in that I want to chuck in the nearest waste can along with my lunch.

I glance around at all of the stunning and sophisticated people filing in. It’s not just the biggest names in the NFL. It’s photographers, reporters, businessmen, and women. It’s intimidating as hell.

“It’s all a bit much,” I say, trying to meet his eyes.

His hands find my belly, and he steps closer. “They are all just people. So many of these guys have had hard lives. They may make millions now, but you can’t even imagine where they started.”

I know he’s trying to help, but I feel so completely out of place. I peek at him from underneath my eyelashes. “Mark, I can’t read, and I fix cars, that’s it. It’s a little different.”

He pulls back, almost like I’ve struck him. His hands fall from my waist as his face morphs into . . . something. He takes a couple of steps away. Then he’s pacing just a few feet from me. I glance around, feeling the slight tinges of panic rising.

He turns and walks back toward me, but with an attitude. He’s freaking James Bond—gorgeous trained assassin. His jaw is set, and his eyes are . . .

“Are you mad?” I whisper, grabbing the lapels of his tux so he can’t leave me again.

“Hell yes, I’m mad.” His eyes roam the crowd behind me. “Are you out of your mind? Look at you.”

I glance down at myself, seriously concerned about what’s happening here. He looks like he’s about to throw a hissy fit right here at the entrance of the fanciest place I’ve ever been.

Mark can be dramatic, but it usually only comes out when someone strikes a nerve. Apparently, I struck a live one.

His hands take a firm hold of my hips, and he waits until I look at him.

“Lex, I don’t give a shit if it takes you longer to make it through a paragraph or if reading isn’t your thing. Half the people here likely haven’t read a book in their entire life, and spell-check has saved their careers. You’re brilliant. You’re crazy smart. You use your brain and hands in waysthese people wouldn’t even begin to comprehend. You take things that ordinary people like me will never understand and make them new.”

His toes meet mine as he slips his arms around me, holding me against his body. “And baby, when you’re doing it, it’s the most stunning thing I have ever seen.” He pauses, his stare intense. “I can assure you, there isn’t a person in there that can top any of that.”

I slide my arms up his back and hug him tight. “I’m sorry. This is all really overwhelming.” He squeezes me tighter. “Thank you for saying that and getting pissy in my defense.”

“I’ll throw down for you in a heartbeat, but I won’t have to. Everyone will see just how amazing you are. You don’t need anyone telling them that.” He kisses my cheek. “How about we let these reporters grill us about all the things we aren’t going to tell them?”

I groan, and he grins. “Does it ever get old? Baiting them?”

He slips his hand in mine and tugs me straight into the madness. “Nah. They love it.”

We follow the line, moving from one backdrop to the next. Mark stands tall next to me, grinning ear to ear for the cameras. I hang on to him, trying to keep it together as he whispers ridiculous stories about past interviews that have me laughing so hard I think pee might start running down my legs.

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