Page 26 of Cross Me

“Whoa!” a surprised voice said.

I looked up, eyes watering, into a familiar set of blue ones. I relaxed for a moment, almost instinctively, before my embarrassment overtook me. I stood up shakily, apologies pouring out of me. He was about my age and far too good looking. A horrible thought occurred to me.

“I am so sorry,” I continued before needing to vomit again. This time, I realized I was clutching a helmet, not a garbage can. Oh God. Tracksuit. Handsome. My age. I forced myself to look up. “You’re Anderson.” I tried to think of a way to smooth over this situation, but there was no helping it. I decided I could at least be polite. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” he said with a laugh, even as his face crinkled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just…” I held a finger to my lips and placed my other hand on my stomach. “Please don’t tell.”

I couldn’t understand it, but for some reason it felt like I could trust him.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he whispered as Brex and a few other people surrounded us. It was made more awkward by the fact that we were still half inside the loo.

“I’ll take that for you,” one of my men said, gesturing to the helmet. I hoped it was replaceable.

“Are you sure you’re not going to need it?” Anderson asked me.

“I hope not.”

After today, I definitely wasn’t going to be able to keep this under wraps. All of our security team members were carefully screened, but they were also human. Plus, I imagined a few members of the Silverstone staff had caught what happened. But when I looked up, I was surprised to see that Anderson’s was the only new face in the crowd.

“If you want to…” He gestured to the bathroom.

I probably looked like a mess. I nodded gratefully.

“This probably wasn’t how you imagined today would go,” I guessed as he stepped out and held the door open for me.

“I definitely won’t forget it,” he admitted as he closed the door behind me.

I did my best to freshen up, thankful that I’d thought to throw a pack of gum into my purse. There was no disguising the sickly hue of my skin or the slight sheen of sweat on my forehead. So much for a pregnancy glow. Finally, when I accepted there was nothing more I could do, I went back outside. The sooner we got the official invitation and the press conference over with, the better.

Belle was waiting outside the door when I exited, her arms crossed, a smug look on her face. She rounded on me the second I was out. Brex and the security team had created a perimeter around the area, giving me more than the usual amount of room. They were probably afraid I would splatter them in the next round of morning sickness.

“Did you really vomit in Anderson Stone’s helmet?” she asked, a hysterical edge to her voice.

“Don’t be a gossip,” I told her, cheeks flaming.

“Oh my God, you did!”

“I’m not speaking to you.”

“Is he hot?” she whispered as we moved away from the restroom.

“Belle, I had my face inside his helmet, I didn’t really pay attention to him.” That wasn’t exactly true. I had gotten a look at Anderson. He wasn’t my type exactly—tall and blond with a lean figure and broad shoulders—but he was charming. He’d barely flinched when I’d ruined his racing helmet. Who said chivalry was dead?

“I know, I know. You only have eyes for Alexander.”

“Are you telling me you have eyes for someone other than Smith?” I hissed under my breath as we reached the group.

“Of course not,” she said, sounding offended. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Anderson, who was busy talking with Georgia. I wondered if Smith’s friend would inform him that Belle was checking someone out.

“I hear my best friend puked in your helmet,” she called to him. He turned to us both in surprise. A smirk as slow and sweet as honey split his lips when he saw me.

“Anderson, allow me to introduce you to my former best friend, Belle Price.” I emphasized the last name for Belle’s benefit. She seemed to be a tad starstruck. Maybe Smith was a big enough racing fan not to care, but I could imagine what Alexander would say if he saw the look Anderson was giving us.

Anderson, held out his hand to Belle. She took it and he kissed it with a panty-dropping wink. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Anders.”

“And she’s married,” I informed him.