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Levi goes back to hitting his driver, and I grab the spot next to him. The opportunity to possibly get some tips from him outweighs my discomfort at the idea of people thinking I’m trying to get his attention. After a few good driver shots, I switch to my hybrid, but struggle to hit the ball center face. Levi gives me some pointers, and I expect him to be hands-on again, guiding me like he did earlier this week, but he doesn’t.

Am I disappointed?

Yes.

There’s no denying I’m attracted to the man, not when he looks like he just walked out of a Ralph Lauren catalog. But is it wise for me to develop a crush? I could get into so much trouble if my boss thought anything remotely romantic could be going on between us. He’d probably fire me for being a fangirl—which, for the record, I am not. While I appreciate Levi’s success, I’m not crazy about him.

Sure, his six foot three frame, tan skin, and wavy brown hair make all the girls swoon. And maybe he has Matt Bomer’s stunning jawline, and eyes that look like they could pierce your soul, but that’s any handsome guy, right?

Fine, maybe the crush is already developed, but that doesn’t mean I want anything to happen. There’s no way I could ever be his type, anyway.

Levi gives me a few more tips and I break out of my reverie, thanking him once again.

“I have to get going, Ezra is expecting me, but think more about the pro-am, okay?” he says, packing up his clubs.

I nod and watch him as he’s getting ready to leave.

“Why me?” I blurt out.

I don’t know why it matters to me. The fact that he wants me there should be enough. But it does matter. I need to know why.

Levi takes off his sunglasses and hooks them into the neck of his dark green polo, running a hand through his loose waves that look just a tad too long.

I stare, mesmerized by every one of his movements. His piercing green eyes meet mine and I involuntarily take a step closer.

“Honestly, I think it would be great PR, having a woman join the pro-am, especially since it’s going to be televised,” he says.

My next step falters and so does my smile. Oh. He just wants to use me for publicity?

I can’t fault the logic. This is for charity after all, and I’m sure we’d bring in lots of donations. And we do need more women in golf, so this would be great PR. I can’t help but feel disappointed and maybe a little hurt by his answer regardless.

“Right, of course.” I fidget with my club, avoiding his eyes.

Levi huffs in annoyance and I take another step back, ready to turn my back on him and get back to practice.

“That’s not the only reason,” he sighs, like it pains him to open up and talk to me about it.

I reluctantly look at him again and find his gaze locked on my face. The look is…intense.

“I find you fascinating, Hazel. I think you have a lot of potential to go pro, at least from what I have seen from you, and this could benefit you greatly if we were to play together and win.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded, because holy shit, Levi Carmichael thinks I have potential.

He continues, “Plus, I don’t want to be stuck with some guy in his late sixties asking me about my dad and my career for a whole day.”

This makes me laugh and Levi smiles again. Fuck, he really is gorgeous. And now I’m wishing that I could somehow afford the pro-am so I can spend more time in his orbit.

“Thank you. I’ll think about it.” My mouth is dry and I swallow down the lie.

Levi assesses me, and whatever I show on my face must be enough for him to be content. He nods and takes one more look at me before heading out.

As soon as I finish at the range, I head inside to find Rosie.

“Whatcha doing, babe?” she asks.

“I just hit a few rounds at the range with Levi,” I say, smiling at her.

Rosie gasps and punches me in the shoulder. “You sneaky little bitch, please tell me you’re gonna let him in your pants.”