Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)(47)

I pocket my phone and turn to watch Amelia, and…

Shit.

I lost sight of her. She was standing with Noah over by the produce booth and now she’s gone, and Noah is over with Annie. Where’s backpack guy? He’s gone too. Adrenaline kicks through me as my eyes scan the crowd from behind my sunglasses. I keep my face neutral and try to project a relaxed demeanor even though inside I’m running in circles and thinking up worst-case scenarios. But the last thing I need is for anyone watching us to know I’ve lost track of her.

I’m suddenly thumped on the back. I spin around and find Amelia. I’m torn between sighing with relief and chewing her out for slipping out of sight.

“Why are you standing so far away from us today?” she asks with her hands on her hips.

I steady my breathing and glance around again. Always watching the perimeters. I messed up just now losing my head for a second, and I won’t let that happen again. “Could you please stay where I can see you at all times?”

Amelia’s eyebrows fly up when she detects my curt tone. “Sure. But you know? It would be a lot easier to keep track of me if you’d just come hang out with us.”

I refrain from grinding my teeth together. “I can’t effectively do my job that way.”

“Why are you talking to me like a robot?”

“Because,” I say looking around the area again. “I’m on the job. You shouldn’t even be talking to me now. You’re going to draw attention.” I have two modes. Playful and serious. And despite the fact that I love to socialize, love to flirt, and would absolutely enjoy every second of hanging out at Annie’s booth with everyone, I’m working and therefore fully committed to serious.

“We’re in Rome, Kentucky, Will. There is practically zero threat.”

“Practically being the key word there. Your management wouldn’t have hired me if they thought the threat was zero.”

Amelia sighs. “Just come hang out for a minute with us. I feel weird having you stand so far away when we’re all over there.”

“Why the hell would you feel weird? It’s how we’ve always operated in places like this.”

“Yeah, but…things are different now.”

Ah—now I see.

I look sharply down at Amelia and then away. “I’m worried about you, Amelia. You seem to be under the illusion that I’m suddenly a different person since coming to Rome. But I am still very much me—an EPA doing his job until he gets released and sent to a new one. So please go back over there and hang out with your fiancé and don’t slink off again.”

“You’re crabby today.”

Yeah, I’m crabby today. I’m crabby because I just messed up on the job for the first time in…ever. And although nothing came of it—I’m well aware of everything that could have happened. The worst part is, I’m trying as hard as I can to take this anger and project it onto Annie in a way that will make me repulsed by the idea of her and want to pull away. But I can’t. Instead, I’m just grumpier because I have to focus even harder now and not go over there and spin her around and kiss her watermelon-pink mouth.

A large part of me worries it’ll be like this from now on. Will I leave Rome and my attention will be torn between where I am and wondering what the hell Annie’s doing? This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to feel things. I never have before.

Unhelpfully, my brother’s words fly through my head: “I’m helpless to do anything else.” Is this what he was talking about? This intense magnetism my body has for hers? Surely it’s just desire, and if we were to finally have sex it would go away. Right?

But what if it’s not? And what if I chewed my brother out for the very thing I’m starting to feel about Annie?

“Plus this is probably the only time you’ll get to see Annie for a few days,” Amelia adds like she’s removing an ace from her sleeve and tossing it on the table. She has a smug expression when I look down at her.

“Why?”

“We’re going to L.A. tomorrow for three days because I’ve been booked for a few television interviews. I was going to tell you on the way back, but I figured I should tell you now because—”

We’re interrupted by none other than the approach of backpack guy. I immediately step around Amelia, intercepting his approach. “Can I help you?”

He has nervous eyes, darting back and forth between Amelia behind me and my reflective glasses. I set my jaw and square my shoulders, reading his body language, and mentally mapping eight different ways I can take him down if necessary. “S-sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could get a picture—”

“She’s not available for photos today,” I say, cutting him off with finality.

He smiles shyly. “No…sorry. I didn’t mean with her. I meant with you. I saw the BuzzFeed article, and I’m a huge fan of…well, your face.” He blushes.

Behind me I hear Amelia stifle a laugh.

Well, this is unexpected.

“Thank you, I’m flattered, but I have to decline. Have a nice day.”

“I understand.” He turns to walk away and then whirls around briefly. “Can I just take a candid one from a distance?”

Amelia peeks around me. “Yes, but please only photograph him from the left because that’s his good side. Gotta have the tattoos in the picture.”