“And you thought you were special.” I point to the couple who are now on the receiving end of Bobby’s attention. “You’re not his only favorite.”

“I know I’m not.” He rests his elbows on the table. “I don’t think he has any clue who I am, it’s why I always come. Well, that and their sushi is the shit.”

“Sushi and anonymity, that’s your kink?” As soon as I say the word, I want to fall under the table and roll myself out of the restaurant. I’m pretty sure if I touch my face, it will burn my hand. I could just die. There’s no way he’s not going to report me for harassment. Not a fucking chance. “Oh my god. No.”

I hide my face behind my hands—not even caring a little bit about how smeared my makeup is getting—and keep them there until Quinton’s unmistakable laughter fills the restaurant.

“I’ve never heard it that way before, but yeah, that’s my kink,” he says once I’ve peeled my hands off my face.

I fan my cheeks for a second before massaging my fingertips into my temples. I don’t know what’s worse. Saying shit like this sober or making a drunken fool out of myself. I’m thinking they’re equal.

I should’ve ordered the damn sake.

Bobby returns to the table with a tray carrying our drinks and edamame. I aim a grateful smile at him not only for the food, but the interruption as well.

“Moving on . . .” I take a deep gulp of my Diet Coke and my body rejoices. “So how have things been for you since the launch?”

Work is the only topic I think I might be safe discussing with him. It is, after all, the only reason we are speaking in the first place.

“Pretty good.” He avoids eye contact when he talks. “A lot of questions.”

I keep my response measured because even though he’s trying to play it cool, I can tell something is bothering him. I’ve learned a lot about him over the last month or so, and one of the big things is that he shuts down when he gets uncomfortable.

“Oh yeah? What kind of questions?” I grab an edamame and shoot a few beans into my mouth.

“Mainly, they’re trying to understand my issues with the League. Lots of personal questions. But I still have to clear up why I’m kneeling, remind them of systemic racism and police brutality.” He shrugs before grabbing the soy sauce and spinning it around on the table. “It doesn’t help that Glenn Chandler is still using me as one of his talking points. I don’t understand why he’s so intent on twisting what I’m doing.”