Page 54 of Off the Grid

“Oh, are we a marketing expert now?” I ask, needing to put that wedge back between us that his kindness to Elise removed. And as I sit here and stare at him, I’m not sure why.

I lie.

I do know.

Something about Spencer Riggs scares me. And scares me in all the best of ways that I don’t understand or am sure I want to. I’ve been in his presence a handful of times since we first met. While I purposely limited our interaction, it didn’t matter because each and every time, I’m left questioning my innate reaction to him and my sanity soon thereafter.

His presence is like a feather skimming over my skin. It creates chills at the same time I want to brush it away. Or a better comparison would be the static electricity in the air before a lightning strike.

It’s there. You can’t see it, but you can feel it. It makes my entire body take notice, react.

None of the reactions are wanted and yet they happen regardless.

Ignoring my comment, he moves in between Elise and me and braces his hands on the table to take a closer look. “Not a marketing expert, but I know what catches people’s eyes and that graphic will do just that.”

I shift my chair to give me distance. I don’t need to smell his cologne. I don’t need to see the dark gray flecks mixed in the light gray of his eyes. I don’t need to feel his arm absently brush against mine.

And by the way he looks at me when his eyes meet mine, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Why?” I’m not sure if I’m referring to his graphics opinion or why he keeps touching me.

A ghost of a smile paints his lips.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“We look like good cop, bad cop. The face they know and the new one who’s unproven. It’s the contrast people will like. We’re a team but we still look like we’re willing to battle on the track.” He shrugs. “Make me the bad guy. I don’t care. It’s always more of a splash when the villain triumphs.”

“You’re new to F1 and you’re asking to be the anti-hero?”

He shrugs. “Call it what you will. I’m just letting you know that I’m okay with however you paint me. It’s already going to be a battle to win over Maxim’s followers through no fault of my own. They’re loyal to him and I’m taking his place. Then there’s Andrew who never rocks the boat. And now there’s me—a new face they’re sitting back reserving judgment on. The men will love that I bring their wives and girlfriends into the sport and hate me for it all in the same breath.”

“Wow. You do think highly of yourself.”

“No, I know how this game works. Besides, I’ll prove myself on the track. I’ve promised you that.” He looks at me and nods. “That’s where I’ll answer all their doubts.”

The yawn comes out of nowhere, as they often do, and I unsuccessfully try to stifle it.

Riggs lifts an eyebrow as he stands to full height—of course putting his crotch right in my line of sight.

“Pardon me,” I say as I try to focus back on the graphics.

Riggs turns around and rests his ass on the desk, still between us, and meets my eyes. “Am I boring you?”

“No. Sorry.” I give a quick shake of my head. “My damn neighbor kept me up all night. Loud music. People knocking on my door accidentally instead of his.”

“We both know you don’t have a problem confronting people,” he says, “so why didn’t you march down there and give them a piece of your mind?”

I glance over at Elise who has her brow furrowed, no doubt wondering how Spencer Riggs knows I don’t have a problem confronting people.

“I just moved in. The last thing I want to do is piss people off. People who I might need help from, like getting my mail or whatever, since I’ll be traveling so much.”

“Tell him your dad’s a copper. That he drives by often to check on his little girl or some shit like that.”

“It might be easy for him to put two and two together who my father is once he learns my last name.”

“True.” He rocks his head from side to side. “I still vote for telling him off. It seems you’re grumpy when you’re tired. That, and you need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

I see the mischief in his smile and sense the banter that he’s searching for. Elise, on the other hand, doesn’t. Her eyes are shocked open and her jaw is lax as he makes his way to the doorway.