Page 108 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)
Dinner was officially over.
We quickly paid and left, but the anxiety I’d pushed aside earlier resurfaced even after we made it safely to Asher’s car. It wound tight in my chest, cutting off my supply of oxygen.
“I’m sorry about that.” Worry passed over his face. “I honestly didn’t think anyone would recognize me. But once one person does…”
“It’s okay,” I said with a shaky smile. “He was a teenager. They have sharklike instincts when it comes to their idols.”
We didn’t say what we were both thinking, which was that the restaurant had only been a taste of what was to come if the press found out about us. Fortunately, the diners had been too busy fawning over Asher to ask who I was, but it was only a matter of time.
Still, it could’ve been worse. I wasn’t hurt (minus a few accidental elbow jabs and handbag swings), and no one caught me on camera. Even if they did, I’d live in their phone’s camera roll instead of the tabloids.
In the grand scheme of things, our obstacles weren’t insurmountable.
We’d talked it out, and everything would be fine.
I was sure of it.
CHAPTER 27
ASHER
Have you guys ever heard of Wilma Pebbles?
ADIL
Is she a model? She sounds hot in a Flintstones kinda way
She’s an author
ADIL
Oh
ADIL
Does she model on the side?
NOAH
You’re an idiot
NOAH
I never should’ve unblocked you
ADIL
Your life would be so boring without me and you know it
ADIL
It’d be like cardboard without glitter. Ice cream without sugar. Pizza without olives.
NOAH
WTF are you talking about?
Guys, FOCUS