The music that floated through the bar made it unlike any other club in Anaheim, even without all of the horse and cowboy based decorations. The saddles that were propped up, the metal stars, and the starkly fake cowboy hats were not my scene. In fact I had a hard time believing they were anyone's scene. Paired with the scent of cheap cologne and sweat I opted to settle in at the bar and drink sweet tea instead of mingling and dancing. Sometimes I thought Bella would bring me to these kinds of things just to torture me after I had been particularly mouthy.

But, whether I liked it or not, my best friend was from the sticks, rural Canada to be exact. She loved nothing more than the great outdoors, camp fires, and cowboys. Even the fake kind with clean cowboy hats and brand new boots that had never seen mud. And for a good Christian girl there was no appeal of going to a city club with strobing lights and bodies grinding on one another. Here, the fake cowboys would pretend to be proper gentleman and twirl her around on the dancefloor, holding onto her but keeping a reasonable distance. Plus, she seemed to have mastered the twostep which had eluded me all my life.

I might've hated being here but watching Bella glow as someone spun her around made a soft smile touch my lips. After everything she had done for me today she deserved this.

"You're looking rather lonely." Slurred a man from the bar stool beside me.

I was tempted to ignore him, knowing very well what would be following but his fake southern drawl was too much to brush off.

"I'm not." I said firmly, running my eyes up and down him. I couldn't hold back the smirk that bubbled up. Oh yes, he was all fake cowboy with a hat too big and boots too new. The fake accent wasn't fooling anyone and that sparse mustache couldn't cover up the fact that he was all city.

"What's your name darlin'?" he pressed, mistaking my humor as encouragement.

"Nike."

"Nike?" he said, almost jerking back in surprise, and just like that his accent floated away. "Like the shoe company?"

I couldn't stop the eye roll of annoyance. The amount of times I had heard that in my life had made me bitter and resentful towards my parents who had named me and those who couldn't think beyond work out clothing. I opened my mouth to explain the meaning of my name when I was cut off by a smooth, masculine voice.

"Nike is the winged goddess of victory."

My head snapped around. Though I usually tried to uphold a very impassive and untouchable presence in places like these I couldn't help but gawk as I turned. And seeing the man made it even harder to pick my jaw up. Blond hair that would've fit most surfers and bright blue eyes to match. But instead of board shorts and a sun bleached tee shirt that was common in this town he had a navy dress shirt tucked into black dress pants and a bold tie around his neck.

I clamped my mouth shut and attempted to regain my composure but it felt almost impossible. I wanted to say something witty, maybe something a so dry it was almost rude. And with any other man I could've. Because no other man would know what my pretentious parents named me after and if he did he certainly wouldn't be this handsome, sitting in a bar like this.

But he was faster and infinitely smoother than I could've been.

"In fact, you look very much like what I envision when I think of the goddess of victory." He murmured, his voice lowering so I could barely hear it over the twang of the music.

"Excuse me, you interrupted us." The man on my other side complained.

I didn't even attempt to acknowledge him again. I was just thankful that I could find my tongue as he slunk away, dejected.

"You don't look like you belong in this kind of bar." I blurted.

"Oh, what gave it away?" he teased, opening his arms up so I could scan all of him over.

"Everything." I countered.

"Touché. However, I do have to point out that you are no better off."

"I think I fit in quite nicely." I mocked, straightening my hoodie. There was no denying that other girls greatly outshone me here. Even Bella was wearing a cute, but conservative dress. Among all of the low cut tops and tight jeans I stuck out horrendously.

"You're right, beat up sneakers and a ponytail are definitely the right choice for a scene like this. But what really gave you away are the mouse ears peeking out from your backpack." He whispered, leaning in.

"Mouse ears?" I sputtered, "Those are not mouse ears. They are authentic Minnie ears straight from Disneyland."

"They're purple. And sequins." He pointed out.

"And?"

"They aren't exactly the wreath of laurel leaves that I would expect of a goddess."

"I'm going to surprise you even more and tell you that I don't have wings."

"The surprises keep coming, don't they?" he teased, then more seriously, "Are you driving tonight?"

"No, my friend is. She loves the dancing and the only time men dance is here with the help of alcohol." I admitted.

"So you're moral support." He mused, then nodded at the bar tender. In record time we had two drinks in front of us. Mine was frilly and pink, just what I liked, while his looked basic and old school.

"Something like that." I agreed, sipping on the sweet drink. Not wanting to talk about Bella any more in case the conversation turned I changed the subject, "So you know my name, now tell me yours."

"Miles Miller." He announced, extending his hand towards me like we were making a business deal.

I shook it half-heartedly, more amused than anything.

"How does a guy with such a normal, boring name know so much about Greek gods and goddesses?"

"I had a very expensive education." He confessed, "And mythology was always a special spot for me."

"And where has that expensive education got you?"

"Here, trying to convince my co-workers that I can let loose and have fun."

"Why would you want to impress your coworkers?"

"Well, I got a promotion rather suddenly and some of them aren't fond of the change. I'm just trying to show them that I am one of them, enjoying a casual Friday evening drinking at a hick bar."

"And how is that going for you?"

"It was absolutely horrendous until you showed up."

I wasn't a woman who was easily thrown off by men. Especially not in a place like this. But this man seemed to continue to floor me and it was beginning to get to me. I had already deemed him to be quite kind and very smart. The fact that he was easy to look at didn't hurt at all.

Thankfully, he saved me once again when he noticed my glass was empty. With a single motion of his pointer finger another, different drink was settled on a coaster in front of me. This one was stronger, but still smooth and sweet.

"You don't need to keep ordering me drinks," I murmured.

"I figure if you have a full glass you're less likely to leave. And if you don't leave then I get to kind of be the cool boss and have an interesting conversation. It's a win-win for me. So tell me about your day at Disney."

"Oh, you know the usual. Crowded, noisy, but the best experience in the world."

"Actually I wouldn't know."

"Shut up," I gasped, "You must not be from Anaheim then."

"Born and raised, actually."

"Then you're lying to me."

He tipped back on the creaking bar stool, laughing, "Come on, Nike. You have to know that not everyone lives to see mascots and eat overpriced food."

"It's so much more than that." I argued with the shake of my head.

"Then tell me about it."

I doubted Miles knew that he was in for when he opened that door. I didn't care. The moment he took a breath I launched into great detail about everything. It was almost impossible to fathom that someone who had lived here their whole life had never seen the iconic park. So I ranted and ranted, giving him hundreds of spoilers with wild hand gestures and vivid description. Every once in a while he would ask a question and I would take a long drink before shooting off again. After another girly beverage, scotch on the rocks, and finally a glass of wine I felt like I had hit all the high points of the happiest place on earth.

Plus, between the heat and only churros in my stomach the alcohol was hitting my head a lot faster than I would've liked.

"Would you like to meet for coffee sometime?" he asked before I could get another word in, "We might have a better conversation in place with less leather."

Coffee with him sounded lovely. I felt like I could talk to him for years and very get tired of his sharp responses and the way his blue eyes shone with intelligence. I knew already that he could take my dry sense of humor with ease. We would banter for hours, I was sure of it. but the idea of having a civil conversation over a drink other than alcohol turned my mouth sour. He would eventually ask questions I didn't want to answer. And if he found out who my brother was the conversation would surely spiral. But I knew I couldn't let him slip away just yet.

"Would you like to take me home?"