Page 33 of The Healing Touch (Manwhore #3)

The event coordinator called time for the event to open, and Jac wasted no time in grabbing a picture with Dimitri before hightailing it back to her table. She was sponsoring the event and had a table set up for her blog.

Dimitri barely had time to blink before the readers poured into the room, heading straight for him. He looked at Becca, his eyes wide, and she smiled. Poor guy. She wasn’t budging out from behind the table, though. Not a chance.

The people swarmed, and thanks to the planning she and Sheila had done, Dimitri’s table kept an orderly line.

Becca had taken the chair behind the book rack, which partially hid her from view.

Between that and the wall of banners, her anxiety wasn’t as bad as she feared.

She blocked out the sounds of the crowd, focusing instead on handling cash, credit cards, and pre-orders.

A few people talked to her, but for the most part, Dimitri was the star of the show.

He flirted, he thanked people, and he took pictures, always listening when Becca asked a reader what they loved about his books.

Slowly but surely, he started to let himself really hear them.

None of them gushed about him, except for his ability to tell a story.

They read his books because they loved his words.

It blew him away how many people stood and talked about their favorite book or series and spoke like they cared about the characters the same way he did.

So, maybe Becca was right, and it wasn’t only about his face or his money. It was about his books.

There were still plenty who stopped just to get a picture with the hot guy, but Becca always nudged him to give them a bookmark. Why, he didn’t know. Not like they were interested in his books, anyway. She rolled her eyes when he got irritated.

He was exceptionally proud of Becca. She hadn’t let her anxiety get the best of her. Two hours of constant readers, and she’d held her ground. He could see the strain in her eyes, though. It was more than she was used to, but she was handling it.

His legs, though, were not only burning like he was standing in a pit of acid, but the pain started about half an hour ago.

It raced up and down his legs, settling as a dull ache in the small of his back.

He needed to sit, but there were so many people swarming, and he’d have to get right back up for photos.

When they called lunch a few minutes later, he had never been so grateful for anything in his life. The chair wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was glad for the small relief it provided.

“You okay?” Becca handed him a cold bottle of water.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He winced when he tried to rub a particularly sore spot on his leg.

“I’m not good, but I think I’m doing better than you are.” She gave him a wry smile. “You need to sit down and finish this signing. If you keep standing, I don’t know if you’ll be able to walk later.”

“No. People will know…”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, D?” Becca resisted the urge to smack him.

“People don’t care about your physique or if you’re the sexiest eye candy ever.

They care about the books, about the words, and in turn, they care about you .

If you let them in, no one is going to judge you.

That’s the best thing about this community of readers.

They rally around their favorite authors. Give them a chance.”

“I don’t know…”

Becca took his hand. “Trust me, Dimitri. If you keep this up, you might do some real damage to your legs. You haven’t had PT in almost a week. Don’t screw up your recovery because of your own insecurities.”

“Recovery?”

They both saw Sara Jane frowning down at them. “Sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping—well, I was, but it was accidental eavesdropping. Are you sick or something?”

When Dimitri didn’t say anything, Rebecca kicked him.

“Ouch! What the hell did you do that for?”

“Because you’re being an ass. If I can sit here and face my very real fear of crowds, then you can damn well ’fess up about your legs.”

“That’s private and my business.”

“Do I need to kick you in the balls again?”

“You kicked him in the balls?” Sara Jane’s head kept turning back and forth between the two of them, eyes wide.

“Why did you kick him in the balls?” This from the author at the next table. Dimitri groaned, but Becca ignored him.

“Trust me, he deserved it.” She nudged him with her knee. “Go ahead and tell them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I think you’ve seen for yourself your preconceived notions are bupkis.”

“Preconceived notions?” Sara pulled up a chair from one of the other tables, now empty as the author had gone to lunch. The signing room would be closed for the next hour, so they didn’t worry about anyone interrupting them. A few other authors had wandered over, wanting to meet Dimitri.

“Uh-huh.” She spotted Henry and waved him over. “Henry, can you check to see if the hall is still crowded?”

“Do you want to go eat?” Dimitri asked, trying his best not to wince at the idea of standing up.

“No, I really, really need to pee, but if there are people out there, I’ll wait.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Nope, you sit right here and rest while explaining to Sara Jane about your legs and your idiotic ideas about why people like you.”

“All clear, Becca,” Henry called from the doorway, and Becca stood, careful to not to get near any of the authors crowding around the table.

She’d been fine all day behind her private barricade, but out in the open, one simple touch could send her spiraling.

She inched around them and all but ran across the carpeted floor.

“Can you wait outside the door for me, please?” She kept her voice low as they walked towards the ladies’ bathroom. “Knock on the door or something to warn me if someone comes in?”

“Sure thing, baby girl.” He leaned against the wall. “Take your time.”

Becca walked into the bathroom and turned on the tap, splashing her face with water. She hadn’t worn makeup because she didn’t have water resistant makeup and she’d sweated enough in there already to have lost a good two or three pounds. Her makeup wouldn’t have survived.

She took deep, steadying breaths. Small dots danced in front of her. Her panic was crawling up her back, purring. She’d beat it back all morning, but it was finally starting to wear on her. She could feel it curling in her stomach, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

The test had been going well, other than that. She wanted to make sure she could be a part of Dimitri’s life without worrying about flipping out every other second. Today had shown her she could control it with enough planning. Psyching herself up the last few days had helped tremendously.

Maybe she really could do this.

“Hello, my little sixpence whore.”

She froze.

The rage in that voice.

Standing behind her was Dimitri’s ex.

Looking ready to do her serious harm.

Well, hell.