Page 47 of Off Camera
“What do you think I’m doing, Avery?” Reid asks.
My brain is trying to figure out his riddle. How does he know my last name? Why is he here?
My eyes bounce to the lanyard around his neck. I seeDC TITANSandSOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERprinted on the laminated name tag in a big, bold font, and the earth stops spinning.
My breath gets stuck in my chest. I shake my head, refusing to believethis man, the one who stared at me like I was the most precious thing in the world and wouldn’t look away, is the same one I’ve been talking to, beenhating, for years.
“What thefuck?” I grab the lanyard and look at it closely. The letters melt together. My vision turns blurry. This has to be a sick and twisted joke. “You—I—how?—”
“I had the same reaction when you walked across the stage an hour ago as the keynote fucking speaker,” Reid says.
“Oh my god. This cannot be happening. I liked the you I met at the bar, but Ihateinternet you. You’re the biggest pain in my ass.”
“The feeling is mutual. How long were you going to wait before you told me what you really do? Before you told me your ‘small presentation’ was a huge fucking speech for all theimportant people in the NFL? The commissioner is here, for fuck’s sake,” he says.
My hands shake. I think I might pass out. I cannot believe this is happening. “Look, I’m sorry for lying. I don’t want to make excuses, but I did it to protect myself.”
“Protect yourself? I’m not going to stalk you, Avery.”
“You saw what happened on my date the night we met. Telling a man I work for an NFL team? Please. I’d either be ridiculed for having a stupid job or put through an interrogation a man wouldn’t be forced to go endure.”
“Okay, fine, you want to be protective over your career. That’s fair. But was thisevergoing to come up?” Reid asks.
“Not after two nights of sex. For the record, I felt terrible lying to you. Not the new you. The old you.” I pause and tip my head to the side. “Why did you lie?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
He runs a hand through his hair and tugs on the ends of the strands. “The second I mention my job and the guys I’m best friends with, people don’t have any interest in me. They have an interest in all the ways they could benefit by being with me. Marketing is my go-to line until I can vet someone and make sure they aren’t spending time with me for the wrong reasons.”
“You think I’d do that?” I ask.
“I don’t know the first thing about you. Especially now,” he emphasizes, and for some strange reason, it stings. “You have been under my skin foryears. Every time I post something, there you are. Every time I come up with an idea, you one-up me. If I have to hear that damn song of yours one more time, I might scream.”
“Maybe you should come up with better ideas or find a new job. I’ve been kicking your ass for a while now. It’s not my fault you’re not creative.” I flip my hair over my shoulder, and heatflares to life behind his gaze. “As for the song, I’m going to use that as ammunition. I have your cell phone number. I’ll send it to you every morning. Every night. It’s going to haunt you, Reid, until you realize you’re never going to be able to compete with me.”
His eyes narrow, and I’ve really pissed him off. I don’t know when we stepped so close to each other, but our chests almost press together. I can feel the warmth of his body, can see the deep green shade of his eyes, can taste him on my tongue; salty, sweet, delicious.
“If you’re so sure of yourself, wanna make a bet?” he asks low and rough, and I imagine those words on my neck. On my thighs and my breasts.
Goddamn him.
“Who can make who orgasm faster? I already won that competition, and we’re never doing that again,” I say.
“You wish we were doing it again.”
“In your dreams.”
“I propose a friendly wager where we keep our clothes on.”
“Pretty sure I’m going to take an hour-long shower when I get back to my room to scrub my body clean of you,” I say. “Keeping my clothes on will be easy.”
He smirks, and I hate the satisfied look on his face. “You’re talking about the times we hooked up an awful lot for someone who wants to get them out of her memory.”
“Will you tell me already? I’m walking away in ten seconds.”
“A competition to see who can secure the most ticket sales throughout the year. Bonus points for new season ticket holders. And why don’t we throw in the title of Social Media Account of the Year for good measure? I know we’re both gunning for the accolade.”
