Chloe blinks. “London?”
AJ frowns. “Why London?”
Oh fudge—
“Oh. Yes. That.” I clear my throat. “I’m travelling with the team for the away game. For the article.”
Chloe’s face changes instantly into something between delight and scandal.
“You’re going on atripwith him?”
“I am going for work.”
“With him.”
“With theteam.”
AJ leans forward. “Overnight?”
“Yes.”
Chloe puts her hand flat on the table. “Right. So. This is how it starts.”
“It is not how anything starts.”
“This is absolutely how things start. Hotel bar. Late conversations. Him walking you back to your room like a gentleman. Probably some ridiculously charming restaurant where he pretends he doesn’t know he’s attractive.”
“I am going to a football match,” I say. “Not a Richard Curtis film.”
AJ nods. “Still. London. There are expectations.”
“There are no expectations.”
Chloe is already building the fantasy. “He’ll take you somewhere with candles. You’ll say you don’t want dessert. He’ll order it anyway. You’ll share it.”
“I will be eating whatever the team hotel serves athletes.”
“He’ll walk you along London Bridge—”
“Tower Bridge,” I correct automatically.
“What?”
“You mean Tower Bridge. London Bridge is just… a very disappointing stone bridge. Completely unromantic. You’d walk across it and think you’d taken a wrong turn.”
AJ laughs. “That is the most Ava correction imaginable.”
“I’m just saying, if we’re constructing fictional romance scenarios, we should at least get the infrastructure right.”
Chloe waves that away. “Fine. Tower Bridge. Dramatic lights. Wind in your hair.”
“I have a bob. There is very little wind drama available.”
“He’ll say something meaningful.”
“He’ll probably saydon’t miss the team bus.”
AJ grins. “He’ll still try to impress you.”
