Chapter 8

We turned to enter the Javits Center when a taxi pulled up, and…and…oh my God, it was Marc Patrick in the flesh. He was wearing his signature pink cowboy hat that had made him famous. Yes, I know. A pink cowboy hat is beyond ridiculous. But he gets away with it. He has golden blond hair, perfect bronzed skin, and green eyes that will stun you. I mean, you can’t move, they’re that mesmerizing. Just looking at him in his hat, a white muscle tee and bright coral jeans made my heart speed up. He seemed to be about six foot. Good, I’m six-three if you count my shitkicker boots.

The taxi driver yelled, “Hey!” at Marc because he’d left his phone on the seat.

Cristiano chuckled. “That boy would forget his head.”

Even though my pulse had gone into overdrive, it wasn’t the time to barge over and fawn on Marc. But I couldn’t stop looking at him.