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The woman’s hands fly out protectively, stopping him. “Uh, not so much there, Sweaty Joe. I was having a drink and you started talking to me. I told you I was here to meet someone using the universally polite way to blow someone off, but you decided to order me a drink even though I declined it and then a round of appetizers.”
He shakes his head, growing agitated. “No. You told me the person you were meeting wasn’t here yet. I took that to mean he stood you up and his loss was going to be my gain.”
She pans her hand in my direction. “Well, here he is so you can go back to the bar now.”
“Uh-uh. I bought you a drink and food. That entitles me to something.”
“Entitles you to something?”The woman is incredulous and frankly, so am I.
“Yes. I don’t buy drinks and food for every woman. It’s called quid pro quo, honey, and I expect something in return for my generosity.” He looks her up and down lasciviously. “Besides, you wanted me. I could tell. You were flirting back.”
The woman’s face flushes with rage as if she’s about to eviscerate him right here in the middle of the restaurant. “You’re crazy! I was definitely not—”
I stand, having seen enough. “She was not flirting with you because she’s here to meet me.” I walk over to her and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. Maybe that’s a bold move and maybe it isn’t, but my protective instincts are firing on all cylinders, and I don’t want this guy near her. She comes easily enough, so I don’t overthink it.
The guy’s dark eyes swirl, almost looping in opposite directions. He’s short. Stalky. Sweaty. And his pupils are blown out. He’s on something and my guess is cocaine judging by the white powder crusted beneath his nostril.
He ignores me completely in favor of her. “Forget this asshole. Come back to the bar with me and have the drink I bought you.”
“She told you no, and now I’m telling you to fuck. Off.”
“Listen, man. I don’t know what—”
I remove my hand from her waist and get right up in his face, no longer caring if we’re making a scene and people are watching us. I grip him by his shirt and haul him up until he’s forced to stand on his tiptoes. “When a woman says no, or that she’s not interested, or asks you to back off, you listen. It’s not a negotiation. Get out of here before I change my mind about rearranging your face.” I give him a small shove, making him stumble into an empty chair, then I tug the woman back into my side. “She’s mine.”
He glances around the restaurant, noting all the curious eyes on him, and then he straightens himself. “Whatever. Trashy bitch wasn’t worth it anyway.”
He stalks off, back toward the bar, only to be intercepted by the manager before he can get there. Frank meets my eyes, and I give him a nod. They’ll kick him out and he’ll never be allowed back in here again.
I release her immediately and retake my seat, running my hand through my slightly too-long-on-top hair.
“Wow. That was not what I was expecting at all.” She takes the seat opposite me and reaches for my water, downing half of it. I watch, slightly amused by that.
She’s a firecracker.
She blows out a heavy breath as she sets my glass down and wipes at her lips. “Can you believe him?” She pans her hand in the direction he went. “The guy was so pushy at the bar and normally I would have tossed the drink he bought me in his face and told him where he could stick the food he ordered, but it hasn’t been my best day, and I was a bit flustered.” She softens, her eyes meeting mine. “Thank you for coming to my rescue like that. I’m obviously not meeting anyone here tonight. I figured once he saw you that would be that, but I guess one should never underestimate the power of cocaine and the madness it breeds.”
She sits up straight, folding her forearms on the table, settling in like she has no plans to go anywhere else, and for the first time, I get a good look at her. I know how incredible her body feels against mine and I know how delicious she smells, but seeing her up close like this is a sucker punch I’m not prepared for.
Huge doe-like blue eyes, lighter and more luminescent than mine. Oval face framed by long, flowy blonde hair, the color of honeycomb. A petite nose that turns up slightly on the end and boasts a tiny diamond stud on the right side and full, pillowy pink lips.
She looks like a young Scarlett Johansen.
Fucking hot—and definitely sexy—even though she’s not wearing anything all that sexy. Just a plain black crop T-shirt that hits her waist and ripped baggy jeans.
“Anyway.” She clears her throat a little self-consciously and I realize it’s because I haven’t said anything yet. I’ve been too mesmerized by her face. “Thanks again. Your dinner is most definitely on me.”
She moves to stand, and I reach out, circling her wrist with my hand to stop her. I didn’t even do it consciously, but that small point of contact warms my hand and makes my skin buzz.
“Or you could stay and join me,” I offer, not even sure that’s what I want. I wanted to be alone, but I also can’t deny that I want to talk to her more if for no other reason than it affords me the opportunity to look at her. “I haven’t had my best day either, so I’m not sure what sort of company I’ll be, but after that guy, I’d rather not send you back to the bar by yourself or even out in the storm alone.”
She licks her lips, the hint of a barbell in her tongue peeking out as she does, and then after a moment of deliberation, she sits back down. I remove my hand from her skin.
“Today sucked,” she starts without any preamble. “All I wanted was to eat some sushi, have a big, fat drink, and unwind my mind, and then that asshole came in and killed all my chill.”
A smirk hits my lips, and I can safely say it’s the first smile I’ve had all day. “Well, I was in the same boat until some beautiful, crazy woman came over and asked me to be her fake date.”
“Actually, I prefer crazy beautiful. It’s all in the phrasing, don’t you find?” She rests her chin on her hands. “And I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Asking to be someone’s fake date sounds like the start of a great night to me.”
