7. Rizz
7
Rizz
Rose – Five Years Ago
“ I t’s not a real date. It’s not a real date. It’s not a real date.”
Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll get it through my thick skull. I stare at my reflection in the mirror of the small apartment I’m renting near the Mobile Tigers’ football stadium. I smooth down my asymmetrical chiffon dress. It hits me slightly above the knee. The sleeveless V-neck halter crisscrosses in the back. It was a beast to get into it myself.
My heart squeezes. I miss Poppy and Noli, and I wish they were here. When I packed my bags and told them I was moving to Mobile to try out for the cheer squad, they were so supportive. They always are. But gosh, I miss them. If we were all still living together in our decrepit apartment in Pensacola, they would be helping me get ready and joking around, making ridiculous comments about falling in love and behaving myself. They’d take my mind off my nerves.
But they aren’t here. They don’t know that I’m dating— not for real, though—Anton Bates. I hate keeping secrets from them. I push the thought of them and the web of lies I’ve woven out of my mind.
Anton is going to be here any minute. It’s been one week since we met at the bar. One week of near constant text messages back and forth. We had lunch together in between his OTAs (organized team activities, in case you, like me, aren’t up on your football acronyms) and my cheer practice on Wednesday, but this is our first official date .
“It’s not a date.” I say it out loud again.
This time with feeling.
A knock sounds. I give the mirror one last look and take a deep breath. I shouldn’t be so tense, but someone needs to tell that to my entire nervous system, which is over-enthusiastically reporting for duty.
I swing the door open, and Anton is there.
He drinks me in, and I take a moment to revel in the attention. His appreciative sweep of me from head to toe and back up again makes me feel warm and cherished in the best possible way. It’s not a greedy appraisal but a tender one. I love the way he looks at me.
“You look incredible.” His soft voice scrapes ever so slightly, like he’s a little undone by me. That, coupled with the flicker of heat in his eyes, has me thinking that maybe there’s some want to go along with the tenderness. I’m not complaining.
“Thanks.” My own voice is breathier than normal. I’m chalking that up to the nerves. I give my dress a swish for good measure. Nothing boosts a woman’s confidence like a dress that’s good for twirling, am I right? There’s something about the feel of the fabric whooshing against your skin. Does something to your psyche. I step into the hallway and tug my door shut, pausing to lock it behind me. I turn back to him and do my own assessment. “You too.”
He’s in navy slacks and a crisp white button-up. The top two buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled to the elbows, revealing tanned, strong forearms and a swanky-looking watch.
“So, you’re taking me back to high school tonight, huh?”
He helps me into the front seat of his car and tells me all about where we’re headed on the ten-minute drive to Mobile East High School.
When we arrive, he tucks my hand around his elbow, ushering me toward the large glass doors on the front of the school. “I can’t tell you how much I wanted a normal high school experience growing up.”
“Right, and since you’re a prince, that wasn’t happening.”
His cheeks blossom pink, and he gives me a wincing smile, like he still can’t believe I didn’t freak out when he told me about his royal background earlier this week. Of course I knew about his prince status before, so I had some time to let it sink in and get used to it in my own brain before I started “dating” him. But even if I hadn’t, there’s something about Anton that makes me want to make him feel like he’s okay, just as he is. He doesn’t have to be anything different for me. I’ll take him for him.
I briefly wonder what Anton’s life will look like this fall. He’s earned the job as starting quarterback for the Tigers. He’s not going to be able to fly under the radar, so the entirety of the NFL fan base is going to know he’s a prince. I wish he’d have more security in place. For his safety. I straighten my shoulders. If I do my job well and keep ahead of any threats, then he’ll stay safe. That’s what I intend to do.
“My mother wouldn’t allow me to go to the common school on the island, so I was homeschooled. Tutors, mostly. Great education. Not so great for my social life. And I felt guilty using the money of the people for my own personal ends. It’s one of the things I despise about the setup of the royal line in Penwick. People pay taxes to support our lavish lifestyle. That doesn’t sit well with me.”
I digest his words, logging them into place as I round out the picture of the man walking next to me. Fun. Hard-working. Doesn’t like handouts. I also get the sense that, for as open as he seems, he has a difficult time trusting people. He told me about his friends in Penwick. Most of them were hand-picked by his mom. He never knew who really liked him and who hung out with him because they were told they had to. He tried to be welcoming and unguarded, but he’s been burned a time or two .
“Anyway,” he goes on. “I got plugged in here at Mobile East when I signed with the Tigers. I started tutoring some of the kids who were struggling with reading.”
Be still, my book-loving heart.
“I love it around here because no one cares where I’m from. They’ve barely heard of Penwick. Most of these kids didn’t recognize me as a football player either. Not at first. To them, I was a vehicle for deciphering the Shakespeare they were reading. When someone found out I played for the Tigers, a couple of the kids asked me to help out in the weight room during the off season.”
“I’m sure they love having you around.” If I were a high schooler, I’d for sure be googly-eyed over him. Heck, I am googly-eyed over him.
He shrugs. “Somehow, the kids talked me into this tonight, so here we are, chaperoning prom.”
We walk into the gym. It’s decked out in maroon and gold streamers. There’s a balloon arch and photo backdrop in the corner. It’s a typical high school dance scene. I can pick out the “it” couples, grinding in the center of the dance floor. There’s also the line of kids standing on one wall, shooting covert glances at the group on the opposite wall. It reeks of teenage pheromones in here.
I beam at him. “I saw your dance moves on Friday. You planning to show these kids up?”
“I think you’re misremembering my moves.” He does a little shimmy.
I full out giggle. Who giggles these days? Me, apparently.
Anton grins, as if making me smile was his goal, before he surveys the gym. “I never had a prom, what with the whole homeschooled-prince thing.” He glances back at me. “What about you?”
I wince but try to hide it .
Anton catches my expression, though. “Looks like there’s a story there.”
Before I can answer, a squeal comes from across the gym. “Mr. Bates!”
We’re swarmed by a posse of teenage girls. I step off to the side as they vie for Anton’s attention. They’re all talking at once. Anton has a kind word for each of them, complimenting their hair and their dresses, asking about how their AP test prep is going. He seems to really care. It makes my knees feel a little like applesauce.
A group of boys saunters over, trying to look chill, but judging from their fast talking and the way they’re all bouncing on the balls of their feet, they’re as excited to see Anton as the girls are. He gives them the same sort of interest, answers all their questions, and takes their ribbing in stride. Even as he talks to them, he keeps flicking his gaze to me.
One of the kids bobs his head in my direction. “Yo, man. Who’s your lady friend?”
The whole group of teenagers spins as one and stares at me. I hold up my hand and wave awkwardly. Anton steps to my side, rescuing me from their scrutiny.
“This is Sammy Rose,” he says.
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? Your face .” 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.
He takes pity on me and my non-answer, holding out his hand. I grab it, and he spins me in a slow twirl under his arm.
“What was that for?” I ask when I’m facing him again.
“Yep. Just checking. I can confirm it’s not only your face and your arms. You look good all around.” He leans in, his gaze coming to rest on my lips, and my stomach bottoms out. “Don’t even get me started on that smart mouth of yours. ”
I involuntarily lick my lips, and Anton’s tie-dye eyes swirl deeper and darker. I gulp. “Okay, charmer,” I whisper.
The deejay transitions to an upbeat song, and the whole room screams, snapping the tension that had pulled taut between us. I recognize the song as one that’s popular on social media right now. There’s a whole dance that goes with it.
Three kids come over and tug on Anton’s arm. “Come on, Mr. Bates. You promised you’d let us teach you this one.”
“Oh, I would pay money to see this.” I smirk at him.
Anton puts up some fake resistance but doesn’t stop the students from pulling him out on the dance floor.
He walks backward, looking smoother than silk. “You joining us?”
“Don’t want to show you up, Bates.” I shake my head and then shrug. “Besides, I can watch you better from here.”
“I see how it is.” He holds his arms out wide. “You like this view?”
More than I should.
I hold up my hands as if undecided. “That depends on your moves.”
He’s a good sport about it and gamely makes an effort to learn the dance, even as all the kids crack up at his lack of coordination. I’m woman enough to admit I’m enamored.
When the song ends, “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain comes on, and couples pair off. The crowd parts almost like this is a movie, and Anton is standing there, holding out his hand to me.
I walk forward. I feel the eyes of a bunch of teenagers on me, but I don’t even care. Anton is smiling his perfect smile, and all I want is to feel his arms holding me. He sweeps me up into an impeccable waltz.
I’m so shocked that I stumble over my feet. “You said you couldn’t dance!”
He chuckles, his grip tightening on my waist. “I may not be able to dance in bars or do weird social media dance moves, but my mother made sure I could dance at balls. This sort of footwork actually helps with football, so yeah, this I can do.”
“I’m impressed.”
“What? No one waltzed with you at your last prom?” He arches a brow. “You never finished telling me about that earlier, by the way.”
“I thought you’d forget you’d asked,” I murmur.
He doesn’t respond, and when I glance up, he’s staring intently down at me.
“I don’t plan to forget much when it comes to you.” He says it like a promise.
How does he do that? With one simple declaration, he has me feeling like I can fly and like I’m melting into a puddle.
“Not much to tell.” I shake my head, trying to keep my growing feelings for Anton from overtaking my common sense. “I went to prom with a friend who was actually into a different friend, but she already had another date. He ended up ditching me for her mid-way through the dance anyway.”
“Where is he now? I’ll go talk to him.”
I laugh lightly. “Not necessary. I didn’t want to date him, so more power to him, I guess. But the whole night was sort of…not great. I was wearing a hand-me-down dress from my older sister, Poppy. Our grandma had passed away not long after my mom had died and my dad left us, so it was sort of a weird night.”
“I’m sorry.” Anton’s voice is gravelly and earnest.
A weird tickle of emotion surges up and presses painfully against the back of my throat.
He squeezes my hand where he holds it out in a perfect frame. I squeeze back, letting him know I’m okay. I don’t talk about my family a lot, but with Anton, I want to. I tell myself it’s to build trust and be able to do my job well, but it’s more than that. It’s about how safe he makes me feel.
“Poppy, my big sister, tried to make the best of things for me. Both she and Noli, my younger sister, put on a good front, but I couldn’t help but think of what a waste it was that we were spending time and money on a silly dance when we literally didn’t know how we’d keep a roof over our heads after paying off my grandma’s remaining bills.”
I blink against the memory. There have been some lean times when the three of us have had to band together to get through. And, here I am, working with the same father who abandoned us. I feel like a traitor. Then again, it’s good work. And it’s helped me support my sisters, even if they don’t know it.
I give my head a small shake and glance up to find Anton staring down at me with a look of admiration in his blue eyes. Heat rushes into my cheeks.
“You amaze me, you know,” he says softly.
I shrug off his praise. “I’m no one special.”
“You are to me.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart. I can feel it hammering through his shirt. He tucks both of his arms around my waist, and we sway back and forth as the music transitions to something upbeat. The teens start jumping and dancing around us. Anton bends closer to me so I can hear him. “For what it’s worth, I will not be ditching you for another girl tonight.”
I close my eyes, relishing the warmth of his breath against my cheek. I blink, and his face is so close to mine I could turn my head and kiss him. There’s a small scar near the right corner of his mouth that I’m dying to feel under my lips.
“That’s a relief.” My words come out in a hoarse whisper. I’m attempting to be playful, but the wobble in my voice gives me away, so I tell him the truth. “Because I like you a lot more than I liked that guy in high school.”
His gaze drops to my lips again. “I like you a lot more than I like anyone.” He lists forward, and my eyelids flutter, but instead of feeling his mouth against mine, I feel his breath along the shell of my ear .
“I want nothing more than to kiss you right now, but it would cause a major scene. I don’t want an audience of teenagers who’ll be all too happy to interrupt me.”
I suck in a breath, my heart a wild horse, thundering around the arid plains.
“When I kiss you—and yes, I said when , Sammy Rose . Not if. Because this is happening, right?” He pauses, waiting for my acquiescence.
I think I just fell in love with him a little bit. I nod, and his lips brush against my ear. My whole body trembles.
“Good,” he whispers. “When I kiss you, I’d like to take my time with it. Sound like a plan?”
My heart hammers as I squeak out another truth. “The best plan I’ve heard in a while.”