The Girl With The Mouse Ears **Sample Only**

Chapter 2

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.