Page 11 of Puck of My Life

I’d made it so far by trying to ignore him. That was no longer going to be possible. He was going to be front and center, and it was my job to pay attention.

If only I could close my eyes when he got up there. I tried to tell myself it would be fine and no one would notice. It would be fine. And maybe they wouldn’t, but that didn’t make it a viable plan. Every time someone clapped or a new person spoke, I would look up there and be hit with those feelings all over again. I knew that about myself.

The person introducing the auction went through how this part of the evening was going to work, highlighted a few of the items that were being sold, and how to make sure you didn’t accidentally bid, which sounded like it had been a problem in the past. From there, he announced which players were involved. So much of what he was saying needed to be in my article, or at a minimum, I had to understand if I was going to interpret the event correctly.

Problem was, I understood none of them. They might as well have been the cartoon teacher going “wah wah wah wah” because it made about as much sense. My focus was entirely on one man despite my best efforts.

I did the exact thing I told myself I wouldn’t. I watched Archie like it was my full-time job. If only it had been, I’d be getting a bonus because I couldn’t get my eyes off of him. But as I watched him, I suspected that I’d probably still be doing that no matter who he was to past-me. Archie wasn’t acting the way everybody else was. He wasn’t standing still, nodding and smiling, giving polite claps. He kept looking around the ballroom. A few times, the person next to him elbowed him like a mom telling their kid to be quiet in the movies.

He gazed from side to side, up and down. And for a second, I could have sworn he was looking directly at me. I’d given enough presentations to suspect he couldn’t see me from where I was, the way the lights were set up. But it sure as fuck felt like he was staring at me.

“Quit dreaming,” I mumbled to myself. But what kind of dream? His expression wasn’t one of joy or lust. He looked miserable. His body was tense. His mouth was shut with no hint of a smile. Fists formed at his side. He was pissed.

If he saw me and remembered me and his initial reaction was anger, that meant... I didn’t know what it meant, but it was nothing good. Maybe he had seen me before and hoped that me leaving was me being gone for good. And now that I was back, he wished he had called security then. Or he caught me staring at him and wanted me to cut it out.

Damn, I was good at worst-case scenarios, and the fun part was they kept right on coming.

Did he think I was a stalker? I was a guy he met once eight years ago. And here I was at an event he was publicly attending in a different state. It wouldn’t be unheard of to have a fan that went too far.

“Joseph needs me to do this.” And so did my job security. I couldn’t leave despite it being my first instinct. Even if Truman would allow it, which he very vehemently did not, it was too late to get anyone here. And I one hundred percent would be fired if I just abandoned the task.

The obvious solution was to wait until the auction was over, talk to Archie, explain myself, and move on. Explain what, though? I wasn’t sure what was going on myself. “Hey. Remember me? The hardware store. I promise I’m not stalking you, but I recognized you. Please don’t hate me.” That could work. Right? Completely normal. Except it was the farthest thing from normal.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t make a scene. Having tomorrow’s headline be “Newspaper Reporter Creates Chaos at a Local Children’s Charity Event” would not go over well.

I tried to look away. Really, I did, but I couldn’t. My eyes had a mind of their own. If they weren’t settled on Archie’s form, they were looking for it. He was no longer staring in this direction, looking like he was having the worst day ever. But he was still acting weird, still searching the crowd, still looking to my quadrant of the room.

I was sweating. My stomach was roiling. My hands shaking. My chest was tight. And underneath all of that, my cock was stirring. What the fuck? Here I was sure that Archie probably hated me and my body was thinking, “It’s time to hit that.”

Underneath all of it was the hurt that was just as raw as the beginning. Hurt because some guy I met once didn’t become part of my life eight years ago. Eight freaking years. I was such a mess. Being so hung up on a guy who’d never been mine. So why did it feel like he was supposed to be?

In those eight years, I’d turned down everyone who showed an interest in me. None of them had me feeling a fraction of what I felt from that interaction at the hardware store. Something about this man was different. It was like he belonged to me. And that was terrifying because it meant tonight wasn’t going to be about me letting go, like it should’ve been.

The room filled with applause. I wasn’t even sure for what, having been so lost in my own spiral, but I took it as a way to escape. As everyone stood, I slid out the back door. I couldn’t leave the event completely. I still had to keep my job, but I could get out of here and regroup.

I ran past the bathroom I’d used last time. It was too close. I found one around a corner where I suspected only staff were supposed to be and rushed inside, going straight to the sink. I placed my hands on the counter, put my head down, and took deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down.

It didn’t work.

I splashed cold water on my face. My eyes were burning. Water shouldn’t do that. And that was when I realized I was crying. And it wasn’t anger or sadness. It was just everything that had been bottled up spilling out. And underneath all of that was fear, fear that the way I was this morning before I took this assignment was going to be the best it ever was. That seeing him again would only make my life harder.

The door cracked open. So much for keeping out of the way. I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe if I didn’t look up, they’d go pee and leave. I slowly raised my head and looked in the mirror.

It was Archie. Right there. So close. And now that I could see his face clearly, I didn’t think he was pissed at all.

9

ARCHIE

The second the auction wrapped up, I was off the stage.

I didn’t excuse myself or wait for the captain. I stepped into the crowd and put my wolf’s nose to work because he could track a scent through a room better than I could. He caught Walter’s trail, and I followed it out of the ballroom and down a quiet hallway lined with framed photos of people I didn’t recognize.

The trail ended at the door of the men’s room. I put my hand against the wood and breathed in my mate’s scent. It was stronger here than in the ballroom where it had competed with so many other human scents.

My heart was pounding hard, as though I’d just finished practice, and inside me, my wolf was on his feet. I could feel his muscles straining as he urged me to open the door.

Take it easy. Walter’s human and we met once. I was worried my mate wouldn’t remember me and even getting him to agree to a coffee wasn’t a given. If we scare him, he’ll run and we’ll lose him. This time for good.