What does it say about me that a bit of praise from Anton sends me spiraling into a tornado of happiness? I don’t know, but here I am, sucked into the eye of the storm. My chest feels lighter than it has in days, and my cheeks already hurt from smiling so much at Anton and his friends.
My gifts were a hit, and they effectively broke the ice for me, just as I’d hoped.
“What gives with all of this?” Anton holds out an arm, stopping me in the foyer as the rest of the guys shuffle back into Poe’s impressive living room.
“A small host gift for Poe.” I keep my voice breezy. “I didn’t want to have the rest of y’all feeling left out, so I brought a little something extra for everyone.”
Truthfully, people always soften up when presented with a gift, so I bring stuff along when I need an in. My success rate is sky high, and it’s one of the oldest tricks in my book.
“You know you don’t have to buy our affection.” Anton’s voice is low.
How does he do that? How does he know that in most rooms—in most scenarios—I absolutely feel like I do?
“I mean, it’s really thoughtful of you,” he adds. “But we’re glad you’re here, er, happy to have you here, just you.” He presses his lips together, as if he’s annoyed with himself for not being able to string together a coherent thought. “What I mean to say is thank you.”
I bite back a smile at how off his game he is. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something to me.” He holds my gaze, and I can’t deny that with him, I feel like I belong. I’ve never needed a gift to break the ice, because it’s like his deepest thoughts and feelings somehow mesh together seamlessly with mine. It’s a wonderful sensation, to be truly known.
Dangerous, too. I can’t let myself rest in it, no matter how good it would feel to let him love me again. I have a job to do, and he’s not for me. Not like that.
Anton is studying me, and I’m afraid the tug-of-war going on inside my brain is plainly visible. But fortunately, he keeps things light. “Have you considered publishing your mosquito masterpiece? Could be the next bestseller.”
I make a face at him. “That’s for your eyes only.”
Those eyes darken and take on a flirty spark in the lamplight of Poe’s living room. “I like the sound of that.”
Walked right into that one.
My mouth is dry as dust. I clear my throat and turn to the rest of the guys who are doing their best to look like they’re not listening to every word Anton and I exchange. Their acting skills are seriously lacking.
The second we round the corner toward them, Poe ducks into the kitchen. TJ tilts his chin up in the air and starts whistling. Del opens a book that was sitting on the end table and pretends to read it. Anton walks over to him and snatches the book out of Del’s hands.
“Hey! I was just getting to the good part,” Del complains.
Anton knocks him on the head with it. “It was upside down, you fool.”
Del’s cheeks blush hot pink beneath his beard.
“So, Rose…” TJ plops down on the end of Poe’s sectional. “About this article. What can we tell you about Anton? I’m ready to spill all his secrets.”
“Hey now. I—“
“I’m so glad you asked.” I grin at Anton, talking right over the top of him as I settle myself in a side chair and retrieve my tablet. Anton mutters something about payback and how TJ better watch his mouth. I smile. “Before we get into that juicy stuff, I’d love to hear about the River Foxes and your team dynamics. Then, I’m here to observe y’all as friends. You can forget I’m even around and go about your usual time together.”
If I’m not mistaken, Anton scoffs. I shoot him a questioning glance, but he doesn’t make eye contact.
Del has his gaze fixed on Anton, and then he pivots it to me. “Speaking as a new member to the team here, I can say that this group of players and coaches really gels. We’re like a well-oiled machine. A lot of that has to do with Anton as our fearless leader.”
Poe walks in carrying a stack of painting canvases, which is…unexpected. Before anyone can ask a question about it, he says, “I’d agree with that. We all respect each other, and that starts from the top. Anton puts in longer hours than everyone else, so you know when he demands something of the rest of the team, he’s right there with us. He’s not asking us to do something he hasn’t done or isn’t willing to do.”
“Yeah,” Del chimes in. “He’s so personable too. He gives everyone his attention. Some people may think that, because he’s a prince, he’s high maintenance, but Anton is one of the most down-to-earth guys I’ve ever met. Would give you the shirt off his back. Though, it wouldn’t fit me.” He pats his belly.
I smile. It’s reassuring, hearing them talk about Anton. What they’re telling me is in line with the man I knew. He always showed up for his team, his friends, and his charities. I admire that about him. How our friends speak about us is a true sign of our character. These guys are genuinely pals, and it warms the cockles of my shriveled, broken heart to know that Anton has them in his corner.
“You guys. Stop.” Anton is blushing furiously.
“Can’t,” Del says.
