10. Audible
10
Audible
Anton
H olland spins Rose, and she catches sight of me. Her eyes widen, and I’m momentarily sucked into their dazzling blue depths.
“Can I cut in?” My voice is firmer and more growly than I intend. But whatever. I’m a man close to drowning, and if sounding angry is my life raft, so be it.
“Sure.” Holland is all easy smiles and dimples. I want to punch him in the mouth. “Thanks for the dance, Rosie.” He bobs his chin at her, and she smiles back.
I flinch at their evident rapport, at his easy use of her nickname. There was a time when I had a nickname for her. It was my own—between the two of us.
Rose says goodbye to Holland, and as soon as he steps to the side, I grab her hand, spinning her out and pulling her back into me.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the rosy color that rushes to her cheeks as I pull her in close. I’ve surprised her, thrown her off her game.
Good .
I won’t let myself think about how amazing it feels to have her back in my arms. I won’t let my brain flip through the memories of our first date, holding her close on the high school gym floor, sharing our first kiss later that night, after a dinner of brisket with white sauce, and conversation that lasted into the early morning hours .
We fall into a familiar step. My muscle memory is strong where Rose is concerned, but I can’t let myself get pulled under her spell again. I know how it’ll end.
We dance in silence, neither one of us making eye contact with the other. I lead her in a full circle around the room before she finally looks at me.
“Thought you told me to leave you alone.” There’s a challenge in her voice.
I don’t rise to it, instead using the music to execute a perfect turn-out, guiding her away from my body and bringing her back. Close. Her breath hitches, but she recovers quicker than I’d like.
“I was doing my part. Observing. Watching from afar. Trying to get my finger on the pulse of Anton Bates’s life. It’s been riveting thus far.”
She’s baiting me. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of appearing affected, though I am absolutely dying to know what she thinks of my life. What she thinks of me after all these years.
“Don’t you want to know what I’ve found out?”
I shift my jaw but don’t respond.
“Oh, come on, Anton. You’re the one who asked to dance with me, and now what? You’re giving me the silent treatment.”
“Do you talk as a rule while dancing?” The words come out unbidden.
Her response is immediate. She sucks in a breath and then narrows her gaze before a grin slashes across her face.
Dang it.
That smile has more force than the sun. It could power the entire Penwick solar grid.
I’m helpless against it.
I fight against the quirk of my own mouth.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” I respond too quickly.
“Not nothing.” Rose clicks her tongue. “Sounds to me like you’re a modern-day Mr. Darcy. Might have to use that in the article. ”
“There isn’t going to be an article,” I snap. “That’s what I came over here to tell you. Funny enough, I was chatting with your sister”—Rose’s step falters—“and she had no idea you were here for work. What gives with that?”
If it wasn’t for the acceleration of her breath, she’d appear nonplussed, but I can tell I rattled her. What I don’t get is why she wouldn’t tell her family about her writing gig.
“Why bore her with the details of my freelance work?” Rose says breezily.
“You saying I’m boring?”
Her gaze locks with mine. “I’d love to find out. Why don’t we set up a time for me to interview you, and then I’ll let you know.”
My hand tightens against her waist. The silky red fabric of her dress feels like fire under my palm, and now that I’ve locked eyes with her, it’s like we’re connected by some sort of electrical current.
Her eyebrows arch in a renewed challenge. “Come on, Bates. It’s one article. Nothing you haven’t done before. Do it for the kids.”
I flinch, and she notices. Her voice lowers and softens. “Think of how many of them look up to you and want to know you better. You’ve always had a heart for them.”
She’s right. She knows it. I know it. I still don’t like it. I still don’t want her to be the one to write the article. I’m trying to figure out how to say that to her in a way that’ll make her listen, but she changes courses.
“You had a slight incident at the golf outing today. Does that sort of thing happen often?”
I grunt in response. I wish she hadn’t seen that. I wish I could say it didn’t happen often. “It was no big deal.”
“Looked like a pretty big deal.”
I laser in on her face. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’s holding my gaze, and I’m hit all at once with a new thought. Is it possible she’s concerned about me? Worried for my safety ?
That idea takes root in the center of my heart, and I feel a surge of hope press up against the surface of my chest. Does Rose Kasper care about me, after all this time? After she made perfectly clear when she broke my heart that she didn’t? That she never would?
I’m not about to let my guard down. Not yet. But the seed has been planted, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to give Rose some more of my time, to see if I could make it grow.
Does that make me a sucker for punishment? Maybe. But I’m also a guy who’s going to shoot his shot.
Or whatever the football equivalent of that metaphor is.
“I’ve had a couple encounters with that fan before.” I choose my words carefully. “She’s harmless.”
Rose blinks and holds my gaze for an extra beat before glancing out over my shoulder again.
I let that angle of our conversation simmer, bringing us back to the point. “Most of my life is pretty boring, you know. I go to work with the team. Do the tasks my mother needs me to do for Penwick. If you’re desperate for juicy material for your article, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”
She whips her gaze back to mine. There’s a skeptical crease between her brows. “You’re saying there’s going to be an article? You’ll let me write it?”
I make a show of sighing. “Considering you flew all the way across the country to trail me to this thing, I’m guessing I’m not going to be able to get rid of you. You always were scrappy. I’ll let you hang around—under a couple conditions.”
“What kind of conditions?” she asks, skepticism coloring her tone.
A loose plan takes shape in my mind. I can see it unfolding like one of the plays on my cheat sheet. I’m going to execute it to perfection. “You have to agree to be a gamer.”
“A gamer?”
“Yep, and get a real-deal immersive experience of my life. ”
“What does that even mean?” She looks wary.
Good. She should be.
I lean in. “Just that I need you to agree to get up close and personal with all things Anton Bates.”
I’m feeling all too pleased with myself for thinking of this. If she’s going to write an article on me, I’m not going to make it easy on her.
“Is that some sort of innuendo? Because that’s unprofessional and unacceptable.” Her tone is firm, but she won’t meet my gaze, which makes me feel like I have the upper hand. I’ll take it.
“I’m not going to date you again, if that’s what you’re angling for.” She says it in such a direct way that I have to fight not to grimace. “Getting back together is off the table.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I mentally cross my fingers. Because if there’s even a possibility I can be with Rose again, I’m going to take it. The more I talk to her, the more I find myself watering that seed of hope in my chest. My head is telling me there’s no way it’ll work—two seconds ago, Rose literally told me getting back together is not happening. But my heart is reading her body language, the way she’s leaning in to me, and the investment that I can see in her blue gaze when she holds my stare, and it’s screaming, So you’re saying there’s a chance .
I shake my head. “Believe me, you made it very clear that I am not the type of man you see as a long-term partner.”
Even with my renewed hope, my voice has an edge to it, one I can’t seem to smooth out around her. She cut me deep when she broke up with me.
“Good.” She sounds a little disappointed, but I might be reading into it. “As long as we’re on the same page.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Can it be the same page of one of your romance novels?”
She furrows her brow. “I mean it, Bates. Do not fall for me. And don’t try to make me fall for you. We aren’t meant to be. ”
The song comes to an end, and I spin her out before drawing her back in and dipping her.
I stare into her face. Even with five years of time apart, I still could draw the lines of her jaw and the slope of her neck from memory. I’ve pressed my thumbprint into the crescent-moon-shaped birth mark she has to the right of her eye more times than I can count. So many times that I’d like to think it has the stamp of the lines of my finger etched into it. My adrenaline pumps hard through my veins, and I pull her back upright with a little more force than she’s expecting. Her hand lands against my chest as she catches her balance. I gaze at her fingers pressed against my pecs. She’s looking at them too.
I half-consider that I should be self-conscious. There’s no doubt in my mind she can feel the way my heart is racing, pounding out a rhythm like it’s a member of the drum line. But there’s nothing I can do about it.
“No falling in love. Got it.” My voice is gravelly. I don’t agree with her. There’s a part of me that’ll always believe the two of us are meant to be. But I’ll say what she wants to hear…for now. “We have a deal, then?” I ask her.
She furrows her brow. “I don’t really know the terms. I’m not too thrilled with this arrangement.”
“Now you know how I feel.” I smirk. She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “You’ll have to go with the flow.” I pin her with a challenging look of my own, holding her gaze as I bring her hand to my lips and place a kiss on her knuckles. “It’ll be fun. Trust me.”