I owe her honesty, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve fucked up. Royally. The woman has my brain all jumbled up and I’ve never been so on edge. It feels like the sky is pregnant, like that calm before a summer storm, when one moment it's sunny, then you blink and the skies open up in a downpour.
Skipping out before she could watch my scene unfold or begin the membership application process last night, could mean any number of things.
None of them good.
Maybe I overstepped, took things too far and scared her off.
Or perhaps she figured out it was me beneath that mask, after all, and lost her shit over my sin of omission.
By the time I pulled myself out of bed today I was a wreck.
Had I been right all along, and she’d discovered my secret, then set out to sabotage me? Like, once she’d collected enough information about my double life, she’d hurried home to call the tabloids and smear my name through the mud. Wouldn’t I have heard something by now? Is she playing a long game?
But that doesn’t explain why she allowed me to touch her.
Or why she came so beautifully for me.
Or why, even now, she’s acting like her usual self, with that smart mouth and looks that tell me she loathes how much she wants me—or at leastpretendsto loathe that fact.
I scrub my hand down my face becausewhat the fuck. Women are confusing.
With one quick glance my way to make sure I’m watching, Sutton hops into the front passenger seat of the golf cart and Bumper settles in behind the wheel. His kid and her assistant climb into the backseat. It irks me that I didn’t get here early enough to adjust the match-ups and put us in a foursome together.
I hop into the driver’s seat, nearly bumping into Gray as he’s about to do the same.
“What the hell, bro?” he says, stepping quickly out of the way. “I thought I was driving?”
“Get in.” I motion to the front seat beside me then glance back at the women he brought to close out our foursome. “You two comin’?”
They hurry and climb into the back seat as Grays slides in beside me.
“This going to be a problem?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Ignoring him, I watch Sutton pull out onto the cart path and head for the first hole. I pull out of the lineup, cutting off the cart that had been positioned between mine and Sutton’s.
“Like hell you don’t,” Grayson murmurs under his breath.
“Apex Athletics?” One of the tournament organizers approaches the cart. She scans her clipboard as she says, “Mr. Cruz, correct, and Mr. Cross?’ She points behind us. “You’re supposed to be in the fourth spot, back—”
“Can you switch up the tee times?” Grayson asks before I have the chance to. “Pretty please?”
He may give me shit about my obsession with Sutton, but he’ll always have my back.
“Um, sure, I guess so.”
She hands the scoresheet to Gray and motions for us to go ahead. “Pull up to the starting line, and wait your turn.” She continues going over the rules, but I’ve participated in enough charity golf tourneys to know the deal. Quickly thanking her, I pull ahead, ignoring the usual etiquette and pulling right up to Sutton’s cart.
She looks back at me over her shoulder and shakes her head, but I catch the slightest tilt of her lips, so I ease my foot onto the gas and gently bump into her cart, just to remind her how much she pretends to dislike me.
I can’t help myself; I love when she’s pissy.
Everyone else in the cart looks back at me, but Sutton’s eyes remain forward. When the starter whistle blows, she takes off.
And I closely follow.
“Aren’t we supposed to wait our turn?” one of the girls in the back asks.
“Normally, yes, but Max is in love.”
