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“Well, we can talk about that later.” Rick grabs an empty chair from another table and pulls it up next to mine. Then he sits down. “So, what did you ladies think of the final? Rugby isn’t my thing, but it was a pretty tight game, right?”
I’m not doing this. I have nothing to say to him anymore that won’t make me sound like I’m on repeat. I grab my bag and stand up.
“Sorry, girls, I think I’m going to head back. I’m getting very tired.”
“We’ll come with you,” Amy says immediately and gets up. “Won’t we, Viv?”
Viv nods and slowly gets to her feet. But as Emma starts to move away, Rick clamps a hand onto her wrist. His grip is tight, and there is a dangerous glint in his eye as he looks at me.
“Now, now, Emma. You’re not going to just leave me like this, are you? I just got here.”
“I never asked you to come here, Rick. Now will you let go of me?” I try to tug my hand away, but Rick won’t let go. “You’re hurting me.”
“Sit down and I won’t hurt you anymore. We do need to talk.” He leans towards me. “Or shall we go somewhere a little more quiet. Without your friends.”
“Let her go, bozo,” Amy snaps, coming around the table and trying to put herself between us. “She said no. How about you get that thick skull of yours to listen?”
I see a shift in Rick’s expression. He doesn’t like it when a woman tells him what to do. Still holding onto me, he stands up and towers over Amy’s petite frame.
“I’m here to spend time with my girlfriend,” he growls. Even with the din around us, I can hear the dangerous tone. “And that’s what I’m going to do.”
“I’m not your girlfriend!” I cry, tugging more as I try to get away. “Now let me go, Rick! Or do you want me to start screaming?”
I’m prepared to scream so people will notice, and that will make Rick let go. But I’m concerned that he’ll follow me and try to corner me again. I’ll figure that out later.
“Let her go.”
For a second, I can’t place the sudden male voice that came out of nowhere. It sounds familiar, but I don’t recall anyone with that voice. Then I see the tall, auburn-haired man coming towards us, his blue eyes steely as he glowers at Rick. Even wearing jeans and a simple white shirt, there’s no mistaking him.
It’s the referee. And it looks like he hasn’t left his manner on the field.
Mark
When I first caught sight of the fair-haired guy wearing an England football shirt moving away from the bar, something told me that he is going to be trouble. Then I see him join a group of three women, and one of them, a petite brunette with a ponytail, seems more disturbed than the others. Especially when he grabs her wrist as she tries to leave.
No fucking way am I standing there and letting it happen.
Making my way through the crowd, I approach the table and see a flash of something pass across the man’s face. He’s not taking no for an answer, and the woman looks distressed. Are they strangers? Former lovers? From the way he’s behaving, I’d say it was the latter.
“Let her go.”
The four of them turn towards me, and I notice recognition with all of the girls, but it’s the brunette’s expression I pay attention to the most. Her dark eyes widen when she sees me, her mouth falling open. And I can’t help but think that she looks gorgeous.
Wait, why am I suddenly thinking that now? Not helpful.
I focus on the guy, who has now stood up and seems to be squaring up to me. He’s well-built and looks like he could do well in a fight, but I am a good few inches taller than him. While I don’t want to risk being caught in a fight, I like to think that I can make the bastard back away. No man should put their hands on a woman who is not willing.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, moving to stand near the brunette. Even with the bustle around us, I can feel the heat from her body. It makes the hairs on my arms tingle.
“It’s none of your business,” the guy sneers at me. “My girl and I are just trying to talk, and her friends are being nosy.”
One of the friends, a buxom blonde, snorts rudely.
“As if! You don’t take no for an answer. Now let Emma go before I start biting.”
Emma. Such a normal name, but it does something to my gut. It tightens, and I have to fight back a growl. Dear God, what the fuck is wrong with me?
“If you’re bothering this woman, sir, perhaps you should let go and back off. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to interact with you.”
