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“That’s so great. That you have such a passion.” He cocked a brow, and she continued. “When you say you love your job, it comes across in your expression, your body language. You were so attentive that night, so…efficient. You impressed me.”
“Just doing my job.” Her words of praise filled him with pride. He knew he was decent at his job, but it was always nice to hear it from someone.
Especially someone as pretty as Morgan…
“Morgan? Is that you?”
The male voice came from behind Evan, and he turned to find her loser date from the night she was hurt standing there, a beer mug clutched in his right hand. Clad in a Kobe Bryant jersey and jeans, his expression was incredulous when his gaze dropped to Evan.
“Don. Hi.” Her voice was weak, and she shifted on her barstool. “What are you doing here?”
“I think it’s pretty clear.” He waved his beer at the front of his jersey, then at the TV. “The question is what are you doing here? And with him?” He gestured at Evan. “Aren’t you the guy in the ambulance?”
“Don…” Morgan started but Evan cut her off.
“I am.” He stood, towering over Don the Lakers fan by at least four inches.
Don’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do? Ask her out while we were on a date?”
“You were the one who ditched her.”
“She said I could ditch her.” Don’s voice had turned into a slight whine. “I didn’t want to miss the game. I paid good money for those tickets.”
“Yeah, and you left a woman bleeding on the ground so you could watch your precious team lose.” Evan had seen the score when he caught a glimpse of the late night news. It had given him a surge of satisfaction knowing that this asshole had hurried to watch them get so viciously defeated.
Don’s eyes narrowed, and Evan swore he heard a little squeak come from Morgan’s direction. “Right. And getting me out of there allowed you to poach on my date.”
“I didn’t poach.”
“Can’t even score a woman on your own so you gotta pick one up while she’s injured? That’s low, man.” Don whistled and shook his head.
Evan’s hands tightened into fists. “At least I know how to treat a woman properly, unlike you.”
“Dickhead,” Don muttered.
“Asshole,” Evan tossed back.
Don swung with his free hand without hesitation, never letting go of his beer mug. His arm went wild, over-swinging by inches and missing Evan’s face completely. Reaching out, Evan grabbed Don’s forearm, stopping him and the two men stared each other down.
“I’m not about to fight in here,” Evan said through gritted teeth, releasing his grip on Don’s arm.
“Pussy.” Don swung again, his fist making contact with Evan’s jaw and that was it.
All hell broke loose.
Chapter Three
“No!” Morgan lunged toward the two men, trying to break up the fight. Evan shoved her behind him with one solid push, trying to get her out of harm’s way and she appreciated the gesture.
But damn it, she needed to stop this. It was ridiculous, the two of them fighting. Or Don picking a fight. Over her.
“Don, stop.” She shoved at him, but he was solid as a rock. And enraged. His expression was fierce, his eyes blazing with anger and he was swinging like crazy at Evan, who dodged his every punch with a calm efficiency that probably drove Don nuts.
The bartender shouted from his perch behind the counter, demanding they stop or he’d call the cops. Evan backed off from Don, holding his hands in front of him in a peaceful gesture but Don would have none of it. Morgan ran in front of him, pressing her hands to his chest but he shoved her off, sending her toppling to the ground.
“Ow.” She lay sprawled on the floor, turning just in time to see Evan sock Don in the mouth so hard blood splattered and Don fell to the ground not far from her.
“Don’t ever put your hands on her again.” Evan looked like a conquering warrior as he stood over Don, who lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, his hand covering his swelling mouth.
