He reared back, surprised. “Why not?”
“Because everyone here knows who you are.”
Not understanding the problem, his eyebrow arched. “So?”
I hinted that he look at the wait station across the floor, where a server and two bus boys gawked at us, whispering among themselves. When Dakota turned and glanced in their direction, they bolted, caught.
“That’swhy.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve ever worked in a restaurant before, but I’m never going to hear the end of this. It’s going to be common BarDown lore that the billionaire’s daughter is fucking the bad boy of hockey.”
“Then fuck it,” he said, and abruptly began sliding out of the booth to leave. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“No. Don’t.” I grabbed his hand and stopped him from going. “There’s no point. They’ve already seen us. It’ll only look more suspicious if we run out before we order.”
He frowned. “Hey, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make any problems for you.”
“Oh well. It’s too late now.”
Our server swooped by. “Hi! Can I get you two something to drink? A Golden Son for you, Dakota?”
All the beers at BarDown were named after the hockey players and their archetypes. Since I started working here, I’dlearned that Dakota’s beer was a lager named “The Golden Son,” but I didn’t know why.
He declined the beer. “Just water for me, thanks.”
I wanted water, too—and since we were ready, we put in our order for food. The server left us and we were alone again.
“So what’d you come here for, Dakota?” I asked once we were alone again.
“I had to see you,” he said, his eyes sparkling with determination.
“Why?”
“Because I finally figured it out, Ottavia.”
“Figured what out?”
“What you were trying to tell me before.”
I didn’t want to get my hopes up. “About what?”
“You know, the other week? After Leo busted us, and you were texting me?”
Fidgeting with my hands, I feigned ignorance. “Sorry, I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. You said he’s not really your boyfriend—”
I held a finger to my lips and shushed him. “Please. Not so loud.”
“Shit. Sorry.” He lowered his voice. “And you said it’d be really obvious if I just stopped and thought about what you’d told me.” He grinned. “Well—Idid.”
“Okay …?”
“After scrimmage today, I looked ‘Leo Lancaster’ up on the internet.”
“Oh?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“And that’s when I found out his dad is William Lancaster, the Senator. Andyourdad basically finances his entire campaign. And then I had this moment where everything all clicked into place.”
My body sank in the booth with the realization of what Dakota had uncovered. This is what I’dwanted—for Dakota to figure things out on his own—but now that he had, a shadow of unease lingered over me, and I felt afraid.
