"Well, don't think you're in the clear. Your nuts are safe as long as you stick to our agreement."
"I'd listen to that gal of yours. She looks like she can pack a mighty punch." The old man clapped Alec on the back, laughing at his own comment as he wheeled his large suitcase away.
"Wise words," I said, pointing to Alec's own suitcase as it passed us by.
Chapter Ten
Being friends with a guy like Alec was like being friends with a movie star. Anywhere we went women openly admired him, gawked at him. Hell, the bravest of them even offered him their room keys. Just like the previous event in Orlando, most of the women had no shame in asking him for pictures or kisses or to sign their boobs. That actually happened more times than I would have expected. Through it all, Alec remained a good sport, and much to my annoyance, seemed to be enjoying himself. He was a male after all.
I knew a majority of the attention had to do with where we were. The Romance Lovers event lived up to its name, attracting all the big-name authors, many of whom had been in the business forever. Most of them had dozens of titles under their belts, giving them a loyal and dedicated reader base. Women walked through the hotel sporting T-shirts and tote bags with their favorite book covers. Needless to say, Alec was an overnight sensation.
Sitting across from him after he had been asked to sign yet another woman's cleavage, I couldn't help feeling disgruntled. Alec, on the other hand, looked like a cat that had swallowed the canary. He shoveled his eggs in his mouth with sparkling eyes.
I frowned at him over the rim of my mug of coffee. "You know, you don't have to look so satisfied."
"What can I say? I'm a dude. Who am I to deny the ladies?" His face started to spread into a devilish grin, but he humored me by looking down at his plate as he dipped his bacon into the syrup runoff from his pancakes.
He looked up to find me clearly astounded at the amount of food he was consuming. Besides the eggs, bacon, pancakes and hash browns, he also had a bowl of oatmeal that he planned on finishing.
"I work out a lot," he said with a mouthful of pancakes. "I blaze through calories. Are the events always like this?"
"I'm not sure. This is the first time I've gone to this particular event. It's definitely grander than the few signings I've done in the past." My voice hinted at the insecurity I felt being here.
"I noticed you don't seem very comfortable here. Is it still me or something else?"
I shrugged. "No, it's not you. After all, we decided to bury the hatchet, right? I like seeing everyone at the events, and there's no denying these are my kind of peeps, but meeting new people always freaks me out. You've seen me. I can become awkward even when I'm comfortable. I prefer small settings that are less overwhelming.
"Then why do the big events?"
I sighed. "To put myself out there. Indie publishing is a dog-eat-dog kind of business, and I've only been at it a short time. I'm still building a readership."
He nodded his head, polishing off the last of his bacon. "Makes sense. You know, I could help you."
"Help me?"
"Yeah, to be more open. You know, relax a little. I'm good at that kind of stuff."
My mind automatically went to the gutter. He could absolutely open me up. I had no doubts about that. I tried to shake the image of him and me, minus the clothes, up in the room. A couple hours of that and I'd be ready to take on any event. Go figure, after my lecture to him about boundaries and everything he wasn't allowed to do, it would be perverted me who had the nasty thoughts. Like his luscious lips trailing down my neck, past my collarbone ...
"What do you think?"
"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "What was I thinking? I mean, what did you say?"
He looked at me like my sanity was in question. It wasn't the first time. I was used to it by now. "Would you like my help?"
"Uh, sure," I finally answered. I had to stop fogging out like that.
"Don't sound so enthused," he teased, signaling the waitress for the check.
"I'm just not sure you know what a lost cause I am. My tongue refuses to work at the oddest times, and I suck pig's hooves when it comes to talking about my own books. Olivia has been trying to help, but even she's said I'm pretty much hopeless."
"Pig hooves?"
"Yeah, hooves. You know, since pigs don't have toes."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I know, but who says that? You crack me up with the off-the-wall things you say. I like it." He smiled warmly. It wasn't sensual like the smile he pasted on his face during the book signings, and yet, something inside my stomach coiled with awareness.
"Gee, I'm glad my weirdness has your seal of approval."