The bartender swings by, and we place our drink orders. After she heads off to fix my vodka soda and bring Anton a glass of ice water, he leans his elbow on the bar, turning his whole body so he’s facing me. He’s the picture of easygoing, and there’s an openness to him that I appreciate. He’s giving me his full attention, and I feel like I’m the only person in this crowded room.
“I’m actually the quarterback,” he says, picking up our conversation. I notice that he doesn’t lead with the prince angle, which is interesting. Is he uncomfortable being a royal? Is he prouder of being a pro-football player? I file this information away to puzzle over later.
“The quarterback.” I twist my lips to the side, playing dumb. “Is that, like, a secret superhero call sign or something?”
He grins. “No. I’m the quarterback—for the Mobile Tigers.”
I drop my jaw, feigning surprised delight. “Are you for real? I was just selected to join the cheer and dance squad for the Tigers.”
That’s the truth at least. The agency managed to swing this position for me, figuring it would keep me in the same orbit as Anton. I do have a dance background, so there’s that.
Anton presses his lips together, like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “So you’ll be cheering for me this year?”
“I guess so.” I look him up and down. “Are you any good? It’ll make my job way more fun if the team is decent.”
“Oh, I’m good.” He leans in. “Don’t you worry.”
I feel my cheeks heat, but I keep my tone breezy. “I’ll be the judge of that.” I hold out my hand. “Rose Kasper.”
He stares at me but doesn’t offer his hand in return.
“What?” I hold my arms out to the side. “Do y’all not shake hands where you’re from? Is it, like, a regional thing?”
“Nah. I’m trying to remember the moment.”
I let my arms drop to my sides and glance around. “This moment? Here in the loud bar with the peanut shells and the off-key singing?”
“Yeah, and the girl with the smart mouth and pretty eyes.” He reaches for my hand. It’s hard not to notice the size difference we’ve got going on. His grip is at once powerful and gentle. He squeezes. “I think I’m going to want to play this back later.”
My heart takes off like a stampeding buffalo. It’s pounding around in my chest with reckless abandon. The country music goes muted in the background, and the whole bar turns hazy. It’s like Anton is the only thing my brain can focus on. Anton with the technicolor eyes and quick compliments. The considerate quarterback. My pulse is out of control, and I’ve got to get myself together. I cannot let this—whateverthisis—go to my head.
I squeeze his hand twice in return. “Pretty smooth, Mr. Quarterback.”
“I do what I can. And it’s Bates. Anton Bates.”
My word. The man is like a real-life Bond, James Bond.
Oh, wait. I’m the spy here.
“Well, nice to meet you, Anton Bates.” We stare at each other. Anton has a goofy grin on his face, and whatever I was expecting from this prince pro-football player, it wasn’t this. This feels easy. Normal. Comfortable.
Maybetoocomfortable.
Anton grabs a handful of peanuts from the nearby canister and piles them on the bar top in front of me. He takes one and shucks it, popping the nut in his mouth. I mimic his movements, and he watches me as I hesitate before tossing the shell on the floor. He looks inordinately proud.
Is it possible to develop a late-in-life peanut allergy? Would that account for the flip flop my stomach is doing?
“So, what do you like to do when you’re not dancing? Or recycling,” he adds with a wink.
I reach for the drink the bartender placed in front of me and turn to study Anton over the top of the glass. There he goes again with that openness. His expression is warm, and I find myself wanting to tell him something real. Something true about me. It’s not wise. I’ve had enough experience in this profession to know that mixing my work with my reality is a recipe for disaster, but in this case, I don’t care.
“I like to write. I’m working on a novel.”
His face lights up. “Are you serious? That’s incredible.”
“It’s nothing yet.” I brush off his praise. “I keep stopping and starting. Haven’t made it past chapter three.”
“Yeah, but I bet you will.” His confidence in me makes my heart flutter.
