Page 64 of Still The One

‘Sign here, please.’ Another woman approaches me, gesturing toward her chest and tugging at her already revealing shirt.

It’s not uncommon for me to sign body parts, and I’m sure it won’t be the last time. With a quick stroke of my pen, I leave my signature on the woman’s skin, while my photographer gives an exasperated look, stifling an adorably crooked smirk, and takes a photo.

‘I’m seriously getting this tattooed,’ the fan says. ‘I’ll Insta you a photo.’

‘Awesome,’ I say with a grin. ‘Not sure anyone has ever tattooed my name on them before, that I know of. I’m honored.’

‘Next!’ my volunteer yells, waving over the next fan. She’s rolling her eyes playfully when I glance her way.

‘How about you be next?’ I ask.

A slight, inviting smile grows on her face, and her gaze sort of takes me aback, like there’s an instant spark that we somehow both feel. Neither of us breaks eye contact for seconds, which allows me to notice her dark blue eyes, sparkling in the sun like the rolling waves of the Pacific Ocean.

‘No way are you autographingmyboobs.’ She laughs, almost nervously, to herself.

She is beautiful. Her hair is in two French braids like the brand requests of female volunteers, and my riding shirt is tied at her waist and has not looked better on anyone – ever. A tiny sparkle of a diamond is in her left nostril, and you’d think it’d be the Daisy Duke shorts that catch my attention most, but I can’t peel my eyes off her bright smile and that red lipstick.

‘I wasn’t asking to grope you. I was talking about taking a picture.’

‘You’ve got a line of fans waiting; why waste a moment on a woman who didn’t even know you existed an hour ago? These girls probably have posters of you in their dorm rooms – above their beds. They’ve earned a photo.’

‘I can get you a poster if you want…’ I tease.

Her laugh is bubbly. ‘Do I have to put it on my ceiling?’

‘It’s not a requirement but I mean, if you need to you need to.’

‘Ha!’ she spurts. ‘Google was right, you are a flirt, Guy Foster.’

‘You googled me?’ I ask, readjusting the hat on my head nervously.

‘I had to,’ she defends herself. ‘Anytime a job requires booty shorts and “sexiness”, I’m looking up the man of the brand. Did I nail it?’ she asks, giving me a little spin.

I chuckle. ‘You, uh—yeah—’ I’m suddenly nervous and fighting for words as I pry my eyes off her.

‘Cat got your tongue?’

‘No—er, yes?’This is so not smooth, Foster.‘You know what, forget about Google me. You’re not dazzled by my performance today at all? I mean, first place, Jellybean. I won a check with many zeros. I defied gravity.’

She shakes her head, her soft, red lips curving upward in a slight smile, a sparkle of interest glimmering in her eyes as they flicker toward me. ‘I think you’re nuts, Skittles. Never have I experienced as much anxiety as I did watching you riders tempt death, and I’m a nursing student.’

I laugh at her returning the nickname and keeping the topic candy. Also, wowzers, a nursing student? Beautiful, quick-witted, and smart – I’ve hit the track girl jackpot.

‘Although I am enjoying women staring at you with lustful stars in their eyes, each one hoping they’re the next to be that girl dating the sexiest FMX guy alive. Google said that too.’

Those words leaving her lips make my heart flutter. ‘I didn’t realize Google was so into me. Weird.’

She laughs.

‘Come with me,’ I say, grabbing her hand as I pass by her, headed to our track tent.

‘I can’t, I’m on duty.’ She pulls her hand shyly from mine. ‘I’ve got to stand near you and look hot, per the event director’s words.’

‘Trust me when I say you’re succeeding. I don’t know if I’ve said this yet, but you are easily the most beautiful track girl I’ve ever been assigned.’

‘Lie.’

‘Lie?!’ I scoff. ‘How?’

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