“You really like her, don’t you?” Annie asked. She tipped her head significantly at Grace, still making elegant figures on the ice under gaze of the golden Prometheus.
“What’s not to like?” Will pretended innocence, and Annie snorted, her disbelief evident on her face.
“I mean like her, like her,” she clarified. “I mean she’s pretty, and smart and...”
“And out of my league,” Will added, before he could get wrangled into making an admission he had no intention of making.
Annie just gave him a look. “You’re Will Stacks,” she said pointedly. “Ain’t no one out of your league.”