Page 57 of Driven Daddy

Larson leaned against the bookshelf, his suit jacket still gone and his sleeves rolled up over his forearms. I decided not to mention the massive smear of what I hoped was dust on the side of his dress pants.

My best friend was a fashionista, and he’d probably bitch the rest of the day about it if he noticed.

“I’m on the last case of books. I went through all the ones I sent ahead. I can’t believe so many people came. I don’t think we even had these numbers at the signing at Saratoga Comic Con.”

“We definitely did not. Then again, theDr. Whopeople took over all the things at that one.”

New York had its own small conventions all around the state, and I tried to get to a few per year, but this year had been insane, so I’d only managed a few.

It had been a good turnout, but nothing like this.

“However, I think our fair Rita has outmatched you.”

“She’s notourfair anything.”

“She can be my fair all the things, to be honest,” Larsen said with a grin.

I shot him a look.

He held his hands up. “Or not. Figured you bricked your shot by insulting her.”

The basketball metaphor was accurate. I’d fucked up, but Larsen didn’t know just how badly. I was lucky she was still semi-civil to me.

And now we had to do a workshop together. One that we’d competitively built out of damn near nothing. And there were now five-hundred raffle tickets in the bowl.

We’d even tried to get Ryan to jump in on the action, but she noped out. Said she was better with the one-on-one. As if I was good with the teacher status?

Hell no.

“Earth to Penn.”

I sat back, giving Colette the high sign that I needed a break. “Sneak out the back for a second?”

“Sure.”

Larsen hopped off the dais and swiftly moved through the crowd. Most of the line was for Rita at this point. I passed her by and saw she was definitely flagging. She still put on a sweet smile and listened patiently to everyone who came to her table.

She was far better at this than I was.

Crankiness was crawling up my spine like a spider monkey on crack, and I didn’t want to take it out on my fans.

“You got it bad.”

“Shut up,” I muttered as Rita looked up. She met my gaze, the Rita from the storeroom and the café there for a split second before she buried her once more. And that smooth, perfect beauty remained, but it was the kind in a magazine.

Not the flashing hot green gaze that dared me to step out of civility and into our shared madness. Not the one who gripped my cock like she knew every inch of me and exactly what I needed.

“Penn.”

Angry that I’d lost time to thinking about her again, I stalked through the crowd and down the hallway toward the break room. Instead, I hung a right and punched in the code to the storage room and to the back door.

“Penn, wait.”

I pushed it open, hoping it wasn’t a fire door. Considering how I got into the building earlier, it probably wasn’t.

Larsen followed me, propping the door open with a box when he stuck his head out and found me pacing in the alleyway.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

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