“Eleanor.” Rafael’s jaw ticks. “Rafael.” I take a step in the opposite direction. He matches my stride with one of his own. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” I bristle at his tone. “Why not?” “You hate sports.” “How do you know that?” “You and Nico bonded over it once.” My brows shoot up. “And you remembered that?” “Hard to forget someone telling a story of how they once celebrated scoring a goal in their own team’s net.” Okay, seriously though, does he remember every single thing I say, and if so, why? I take another step backward. “Well, I’m here for charity.”
