“Brute.” I caught up to him as he paced the sidelines. “Seriously. What just happened?”
“I reminded him of the truth. That his first win was luck and he gets attention because he’s a whore for it.”
I creased my brow. “So why’d you push him?”
Brute’s gaze darkened. “He sassed back.”
I was about to ask what sass meant in Brute’s world, but a media tech grabbed his arm, pulling him away toward some reporters. The murmur of conversation and cameras clicking around me receded into the background as I looked around, searching for Hawk. Just to see him one more time. And make sure I was still in the clear.
Hawk chatted effortlessly with a camera crew on the far side. The tats on his head were on full display, like he’d just shaved to the scalp before the conference. I hung in the shadows, keeping an eye on him. Waiting for this to be over.
And once I was in the clear, I had to come clean. Admit it to his face or over the phone, or break it off. Because this was only going to get worse.
My heart twisted at the mere thought of breaking it off. That wasn’t what I wanted, not even a little bit. But what was it? What did we even have?
Hawk had moved while I’d been lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t find him. Someone announced the live feed had ended. My parents pushed at me, urging me forward. I stumbled behind the line of tables, tugging my ballcap lower.
“Did you not wash your hair today?” Mom whispered into my ear.
“What do you mean?” I shot her a look.
“This silly hat.” She patted the top of my head. “You never dress down so much.”
She wandered away with my dad, talking to some of the sponsors nearby. I swallowed hard, turning to head back to the sidelines. Better to stay in the shadows today. I stopped when someone grabbed my wrist.
Heat seared through me, and my heart tumbled all the way to the soles of my feet. Oh crap. Oh crap. I knew who this was, could feel it down to the marrow of my bones.
I turned slowly, finding Hawk’s incredulous face staring back at me.