The word had barely left her mouth before she felt him go still.
Not completely still. Just that half-second kind of still that people who were very good at controlling themselves had when something got through before they could stop it.
His hand at her waist pressed slightly firmer and she heard him exhale through his nose, slow and measured, which meant he was very much not as measured as he wanted to be right now.
She leaned back just enough to look at his face.
His jaw was tight. His eyes were slightly too focused on a point somewhere past her shoulder. A small muscle was working near his temple, the kind you didn't notice unless you'd spent a lot of time in close proximity with someone's face, which she had, professionally and otherwise.
She tilted her head.
"Are you going to sing the national anthem?" she asked. Completely innocently.
He looked down at her.
"I'm sorry?"
