Anton (Chicago Blaze 1)

She had surprised me by inviting me, Anita and Dre to Thanksgiving dinner. I didn’t know before, but she closes the bar that day and has a meal catered in for the staff and their families. We ate like kings that day, and Janice gave all the kids a nice blanket and some candy to take home.

My finals are coming up, and I’ve been studying with every free moment I have. Since I can only go to school part-time, it’ll take me another year-and-a-half to finish my senior year, but I know I can get there. Encouraging Anita has reminded me of that.

“You look happy,” my least favorite waitress Lana says with a smirk. “Did you get laid or something?”

“No, I’m just not a bitch.” I give her a sweet smile as I arrange the glasses the way I like them before my shift starts.

“You reconsider my offer of marriage, Mia?” a regular at the bar named Lenny asks from his usual stool. “You can get me a discount on drinks and I can get you discounts on all the plumbing supplies you’ll ever need.”

“That’s tempting.” I take his empty bottle and pop open a new one for him. “I think I’ve gotta pass, though.”

The evening crowd hits soon, and I get lost in pouring, mixing and serving. I’m keeping a mental tally of my tips, hoping to take Dre ice skating and shopping for a Christmas gift for his mom this week. Since I’ve started helping Anita with money, I’m wearing lower cut tops, smiling bigger and telling fewer customers who hit on me to fuck off. It’s kinda like what I do to pay for grandpa’s care—the ends justify the means.

I’ve got a momentary lapse in drink orders later in the night when I look up and see Anton walking toward the bar. I feel butterflies in my stomach, which I’m not sure I’ve ever felt in my life.

“Hey,” he says, the corners of his lips slightly turned up.

“Hi.” I sound breathless. Fuck.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Not bad, other than my pain in the ass uncle.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll take a bottle of grey goose.” He sits down on the stool in front of him.

“Really?”

He breaks into a smile. “Nah. Water, please.”

He’s cute. I’ve missed him. I try to keep those feelings from my expression as I get his water and set it in front of him.

“On the house,” I say adamantly. “You can’t keep paying $20 for a glass of water.”

“I’m pretty sure I can.” He arches his brows and takes a sip. “That’s damn good water.”

There’s an awkward silence. Then Anton breaks it by asking, “Why’d you tell me not to come that night?”

The hurt in his eyes reaches straight into my chest and twists my heart. Anton has never been anything but good to me, and I hate that I caused him even an ounce of disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” I look down at the floor.

“I just need to know if it was something I did or said.”

“No,” I say quickly. “No, not at all.”

“I’m not trying to get with you, Mia. I’d never do that while you’re still married.”

“I know.”

“Then what happened?”

I sigh softly. “Adam came in that night.”

Anton’s gaze darkens. “What did he want?”

“Just…to make me feel like shit, I guess. It worked.”

“I’ve been thinking about things, Mia. I want us to be friends. And I don’t care who knows about it or approves of it. Adam’s my teammate, but there’s nothing wrong with me being friends with you.”

His expression is so earnest. So sincere. I’m embarrassed by the tears clouding my vision.

“I’d like that,” I manage to say. “If he finds out, it won’t be good, but as long as you know that.”

Anton shrugs. “I don’t just know it, I like it. I’d love to throw down with that fucker. I’m pretty sure I’ve got plenty of reasons, from the look on your face every time his name comes up.”

I look away, uncomfortable. “I don’t think he shows his true colors to many people.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me. But I’m here, if you want to talk or if you need me to handle him. Anytime, day or night.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll take you home tonight.”

I curb my instinct to tell him he doesn’t have to, or it’ll be too late. He’s my friend. I do want a ride home from him.

And I don’t have to worry about the shame Adam reminded me of recently. Anton and I are only friends. He doesn’t care whether I can have kids.

“That would be great,” I say.My seat is warm when I step into Anton’s car and sit down. His car still smells like leather, but there’s another scent in the air tonight.

“Ribs?” I ask him.

He grins. “Yeah. I got a sitter tonight and got carryout ribs from my favorite place.”