My heart thrashes. I glance up at him, but he doesn’t return my eye contact.
There’s a smile in his voice when he pins the kids with a glare. “Or Ms. Kasper to you.” He points at them, and then at his own eyes, and back at them.
“Hi, Ms. Kasper,” they chorus.
“Hey, y’all. Thanks for having me.” I smile.
The kids start whispering among themselves. There’s some snickering. Some nudging. I hear someone say, “Bates got rizz. Who knew?”
Anton claps his hands. “Alright, this is your prom, my little minions. Get out there and bust a move.”
They stare at him blankly.
“Get jiggy with it.” He makes a disco-era step, sticking his pointer finger in the air and tucking it into his opposite hip.
The teens look at him like he’s crazy. The guy who mentioned Anton’s rizz leans over to his buddy and says, “I take it back.”
Anton rolls his eyes, shooing them away. “Go. Dance. Have fun!”
They scatter, tittering as they go.
Anton turns to me. His cheeks are pink, but his eyes are bright.
I tip my chin, assessing him. “You really like hanging out with them, don’t you?”
He puts his hand on my back again, escorting me to the table where there are more adults distributing water bottles and sports drinks.
“They keep me humble,” he quips. “They’re good kids.”
I hum. “And you’re a good man, Anton Bates.”
“Thanks for coming along with me, Sammy Rose.” He winks as he hands me a water bottle. Our fingers brush, and a jolt of electricity zips up my arm. I stare at him, and he smiles down at me. What does this man see in me? I’m a nobody to his somebody. And yet…he makes me feel like I belong here—with him. I should go with it, be grateful that he’s making my job easier than expected. But the way he’s making me feel is about more than this job. It’s like someone is finally holding space for me. Outside of my sisters, I haven’t had someone care like Anton seems to. I could get addicted to his attention real fast.
I end our standoff by clearing my throat and turning to assess the dance floor. A group of kids peers back at me, but they put their heads together when they see me looking.
“I was afraid of that.” Anton’s tone is light as he points at the group. “I knew it was a risk.”
“What was?” At the mention of risk, my work-mode clicks back into place. Is one of these kids a hitman? Hitwoman?
“Bringing you here. You’ve got all the teenagers drooling over you. I’m going to have to fend them off.”
I burst out laughing, swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious. That dress? Your arm muscles? Yourface.” He lets out a low whistle. “Those poor kids don’t stand a chance.”
It’s official. The face in question is hotter than the surface of the sun. Anton noticed my arm muscles? I think I’m swooning. Fortunately, I can play off my toned muscles as a product of my cheer and dance background. No one needs to know that I stay physically fit so I can keep my clients safe if push comes to shove.
“You’re one to talk.” I nudge him and can’t help but notice the wall of abs my elbow rams into.
“Pray tell.” He grins. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You fishing for a compliment, Bates?”
“From you? Absolutely.”
I’m suddenly tongue-tied, because I don’t think I can stop at praising his arms and face. Is it weird that I’m sort of into his quads? Like, how can they possibly look as good as they do in his dress pants? I don’t know, but I’m not questioning it. And more than that, watching him with the kids here? I feel it in the deepest chamber of my heart. The man is in his element among a bunch of hormone-raging, under-privileged teenagers. More than his prince status or the whole professional-quarterback gig, the fact that he’s spending his Saturday night at a high school prom, with no fanfare and nothing in it for him, makes him the most attractive to me.
I don’t know how to say any of this to him. I’ve known him for all of a week. I shouldn’t be getting my feelings involved in something that’s supposed to be fake…at least from my end.
