Porsha shakes her head. “We’re going to visit my cousins later. I’m meeting my parents at the bake sale.”
“I wish I had cousins,” Lainey mutters.
My eyes flick to Nova, and when I imagine having kids with her, the corner of my mouth lifts because I know she’ll be an amazing mother.
When we pull up to the school, I find a parking spot next to the guards. Nova opens her door, but I quickly reach over and place my hand on her thigh. “Wait until the guards give us the sign that they’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Tyler comes to open my door while Noah, Ryan, and Eddie open the others.
I grab a pair of sunglasses from the compartment between the seats, and as I climb out, I put them on.
“Eddie, stay with Lainey,” I order. “Noah, you’re with Rachel and Nova.”
They all nod, and we each grab a box of cookies. As we walk toward the baseball field, where all the tables and gazebos are set up, Tyler takes the lead, and Ryan sticks to the right of me.
“Oh my God!” a woman screams, and I let out a groan. “It’s Easton Rowe.”
It always amazes me how quickly a group of fans forms. It’s never just one at a time.
Within seconds, they flank us from all sides, screaming my name. The guards do their work and keep them back while Tyler shouts, “No signatures or photos ... Give Mr. Rowe and his family privacy ... No photos ... Stay back.”
“Holy crap,” Nova whispers behind me. “This is insane.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Rachel tells her. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone and keep walking.”
Sylvia’s probably going to lose her shit when she hears about this.
Finally reaching the table, I move behind it so I can use it as a barrier between me and the crowd.
“Just one photo, Easton,” a fan begs. “Pleeeeease!”
I take a step back so Nova and Rachel can unpack the boxes, then Rachel shouts, “Unless you’re buying cookies, please leave. My daughter would like to start her sale.”
Just like I thought, they all line up to purchase cookies.
Nova moves backward to place an empty box beneath the table and accidentally bumps into me. I grab hold of her hips to keep her standing, and it has half the women in the crowd screaming their heads off.
“He’s touching her!”
“Who is she?”
“God, please tell me you’re not dating!”
“I wish I was her.”
“This was such a bad idea,” Rachel mutters while she grabs a ten-dollar bill before shoving a bag of cookies at the woman.
Nova looks completely rattled, and wanting to get the sale over as quickly as possible, I take off the sunglasses. “This is a fundraiser, right?” I pick up the black marker from the table and scribble my signature on the bags. “The price just went up to a hundred dollars a bag.”
“Give me two.”
“I want three.”
The bags sell as fast as Rachel and Nova are able to move, and we’re sold out before the principal even makes it to our table.
“Mr. Rowe,” Principal Barnes says, holding out his hand as he approaches us.
