She stared at me mutely but seemed to approve of splitting the bill. I made a note of that. Despite her apparent timidity, Annie struck me as the fiercely independent type. I thought it might be a matter of pride to her never to let a man (or anyone for that matter) carry her.

Christ, I knew how to pick them.

She flagged down a taxi quickly enough and didn’t protest when I slid my hand into hers to help her into the car. I sat beside her, spreading my legs wide and taking up as much room as possible. Her brow was furrowed all the while, and I rattled off the address to the driver. Gathering herself, she opened one of the folders she was carrying and began to flick through some pages.

“It’ll take us a couple of minutes to reach the restaurant. We should use the time to cover some things before we get there.”

I leaned closer, my arm brushing hers. “I’m all ears.”

Swallowing, she ran a finger down the bullet points on the page. “So, I think we should start you off with a Twitter account. It’s straightforward enough and will give you a feel for connecting with people online, engaging your audience. We can connect the Twitter to both Instagram and Tumblr.”

“No, thanks. I’m not a Twatter sort of bloke.”

Her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile, but then she flattened them into a stiff line. “It’s Twitter. Please don’t discount every idea before I’ve even had the chance to explain it to you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I’m only trying to make life easier for the both of us.”

The exasperated way in which she spoke made me feel bad, so I replied, “Fine. Go ahead. Tell me all about this Twatter.”

“It’s not….”

“I know,” I interrupted, smiling warmly. “I’m only pulling your leg, hon.”

She shook her head and settled her eyes back on her papers, though I had a feeling she was using them as a safety blanket as opposed to actually needing them. After all, I’d been intentionally trying to get into her personal space as much as I could since we first met.

“In a nutshell, Twitter entails sending little nuggets of information about what’s going on in your life out into the world in the form of ‘tweets.’ Each tweet can be no longer than 140 characters. I suggest checking out the profiles of some other famous sportsmen to see how it works. It’s easier to learn the ropes as you go rather than my giving you a lesson because I’ll just bore you.”

“Oh, Annie, you could never bore me.”

Our eyes met, and she went quiet then, her lips parting like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. A couple of minutes later, the taxi came to a stop.

“That’ll be twelve-ninety,” said the driver, and I quickly pulled out a twenty, telling him to keep the change, while Annie rummaged in her little pocket bag. I put my hand on hers to stop her, and her body went still.

“I’ve got this. Next round’s on you.”

She glanced at me, frowned, nodded, and then made her way out of the vehicle. The lunchtime rush was in full swing when we stepped inside Tom’s restaurant. It wasn’t a fancy place, but it was always busy; and given that it had only been open for two years, it was doing pretty well. Tom and I had gone to school together, and even back then he’d been obsessed with becoming a chef and opening his own restaurant. I don’t think either of us ever expected him to end up running one of the most popular kitchens in New York, but then again, neither did we expect I’d become rugby’s reluctant bad boy.

And yes, I do cringe every time I have to say that.

Placing my hand at the base of Annie’s spine—this time without her flinching—I ushered her in as a waitress led us to a table and handed us two menus. Annie took the seat across from mine and didn’t even open her menu to take a look.

“Not hungry anymore?” I asked, lifting a brow.

She pulled out her phone and ran her finger down the screen, her attention on her messages or whatever she was checking. “I am. I just know what I want already. I’ve been here before a few times.”

I grinned. “Ah, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Her new blush was minuscule, but it was definitely there. I heard Tom approach before I saw him. “Well, would you look who it is, Mr. Muscles. I hope you don’t think you’re getting any of that steamed broccoli bullshit again. I refuse to cook food without a taste.”

I stood and patted my auburn-haired friend on the shoulder. “You’ll make what I ask for.”

He only snorted in response before his attention fell on Annie. “And who’s this fine young lady?”

“Annie, Tom, Tom, Annie,” I said, making the introductions.

Annie smiled widely, her attention no longer on her phone. In fact, she seemed overjoyed to be making Tom’s acquaintance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tom. I eat here all the time. You’re an amazing chef.”

Fuck me. Was she fangirling him?

He winked, took her hand, and brought it to his mouth for a kiss, the chancer. “The pleasure is all mine.” Then he turned back to me and shook his head.

“Look at you, dressed up to the 4 ½’s. Couldn’t you have made more of an effort for beautiful Annie here?”

I glanced down at the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing.

“Oh, we’re not on a date. I’m….”

“She’s teaching me how to twatter,” I interrupted.

“Sounds dirty,” Tom chuckled. “Well, I’d better be getting back to the kitchen. The world can’t wait any longer for my culinary genius.”