“If you must know, I’m meeting Anton’s cousin after the game so I can get a couple quotes from someone within the Penwick royal family—for the article.”
Poppy sucks in a breath. “Isn’t it crazy? Anton is actual royalty, and there he is, right out there playing football with a bunch of American commoners.”
We all turn to watch him. He’s doing some sort of calisthenic stretching, and I’m honestly here for it. He can do butt kicks for me any time.
“He prefers the commoners, actually.”
I don’t register that I’ve spoken out loud until I hear my sisters giggling—legit giggling like they’re eleven years old.
“I’m sure he does.” Poppy smirks. “One commoner in particular.”
I feel my cheeks heat in spite of the air temperature.
“I still can’t believe you’re dating a prince and didn’t tell us, Rosie.” Noli shakes her head.
“Iwas. Wasdating a prince,” I grind out. “Past tense. Anton and I are not together. Would you keep your voice down?” One of the assistant coaches jogs toward us to retrieve some of the spare footballs. “I don’t need anyone to know about our history. I’ve got a job to do.”
Poppy mimes zipping her lips as Noli mutters, “Sorry. Can you blame me? This is a lot of new information to take in. I mean, I knew I should have been suspicious when you said you wanted to be a cat lady, but I didn’t realize you were out there brushing shoulders with famous people.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
The play-by-play announcer starts talking about the upcoming coin toss, and the players warming up on the field make their way over to the sidelines.
“You guys should hurry so you don’t miss kick off.” I’m not trying to get rid of my sisters—truly I’m not. But I need to focus. “Anton said you could come down after the game too.”
“Seriously?” Noli pumps her fist into the air, and Poppy starts jumping up and down. “I can’t wait to meet him!”
“Don’t make me regret this,” I mutter.
Poppy laughs and gives me a finger wave. She loops her arm with Noli’s, and they skip off to find their seats.
I blow out a breath and turn my attention back to the field.
Anton is jogging to midfield with the other team captains for the coin toss. My pulse picks up. He’s out there like a sitting duck. My gaze skitters around the stadium, but in a crowd of sixty thousand, how am I supposed to pick out any threats?
I don’t take a breath until he’s back on the River Foxes sideline. He won the toss, and the team deferred, so the defense will take the field after the kick off.
Anton stalks over to the bench, looking completely in control. He’s the perfect mix of fierce football player and adorable boy next door—and yes, as my sisters so dutifully reminded me, a prince. He’s the definition of the whole package. He pulls on a stocking cap that’s River Foxes orange with the fox logo stitched on the front. I’m trying to keep my composure while I stare at him, but I suck in a hard breath when he glances over and our eyes lock. It feels like I’ve swallowed a shooting star. My throat goes dry, and my whole body tingles.
His game face is in place, but when he spots me, the edges of his mouth hitch upward ever so slightly. His gaze sweeps over me from my head to my toes and back up again. I’m a chocolate candy bar that’s been left out in the sun—gooey and melty and kicking myself for feeling so sickly sweet about his attention.
What do I do? Nod? Smile? Ignore him?
He lifts a hand, and I think he’s going to wave at me, but he swirls one finger around in a circle. He’s asking me to twirl.
Do I feel slightly ridiculous? Yes.
Do I feel completely cherished? Also yes.
I do a slow spin so he can see the jacket from all angles.
When I make it around to be looking at him again, his eyes hold a darker glint than usual. I’m in a giant piece of outerwear. Not even something figure-flattering or objectively sexy, and yet, under Anton’s gaze, I feel beautiful.
I gulp. I should not be enjoying this as much as I am. I need to ward off his attention and his affection, but it’s hopeless. Hemakes me feel like I’m the only other person in this crowded, loud stadium.
I’m saved from doing something stupid like walking over to him, sitting down in his lap, and kissing him for all he’s worth when the backup quarterback and their QB coach step in between the two of us, severing our stare-down. They move to sit on the bench next to Anton, and the coach shoves a tablet into his hands. He glances down at it, but he looks back up and meets my gaze.
And then, as if this were a romance novel, the man winks.
