Page 113 of The Downside of Love
What the hell is going on? And how do I know her . . .?
I start walking in her direction when Bent catches me on the shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I know her,” I say, pointing to the beautiful woman in the booth, the one who’s slowly trying to back away from the man.
“Are you sure?” Bent asks.
“Pretty sure.”
The man flings his arm in her direction, only just missing her face as he spouts off some obscenities.
“You know her or not, I have a feeling you’re going to step in.”
Damn right I am.
As I approach from behind the man, the woman’s eyes float to me, her face contorting in shock and then . . . gratefulness.
I get closer and closer trying to pinpoint where I know her from. That heart-shaped face, those mischievous eyes, her pretty lips.Ryan?
But her hair is brown.
I’m standing a few feet away when I interrupt the man and say, “Ryan?”
“Colby, I’m so glad you made it.” She scoots all the way out of the booth and saddles up next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist.
Slightly drunk and unsure of what’s happening, I put my arm around her and say, “Sorry I was late.”
“Late?” the guy asks, standing from the booth, the vein in his forehead popping in my direction. Christ, this guy is ready to fight. Thank God I have my guys a few feet away.
And just as I think of it, from the corner of my eye, I see Bent, Colt, and Rowdy step closer in case the guy decides to charge at me.
“I was trying to tell you for a while. I’m getting back together with my ex. I’m sorry.”
His eyebrows come together, his eyes narrowing. “Your ex? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. When did this start? Have you been cheating on me?” He moves a step forward, and I put my hand out to stop him. He swats it away, and that’s when all my boys step in, putting up a protective wall, towering over the fucking weasel.
In his no-nonsense voice, Bent says, “Take one more step toward her and see what happens.”
“Best you move on,” Colt adds with his long Texas drawl.
The douche eyes all of them, assessing their height and weight and realizes he’s easily not only outnumbered, but if he makes the wrong move, he’s going to get his ass handed to him.
Backing away, he waves his hand in the air, dismissing us. “Peace out, bitch,” he says, making his way out of the bar just as Ryan lets out a long exhale.
Bent turn towards us and says, “We’ll wait for you in the car and make sure the dickhead actually clears the area.”
“Thanks.” I nod and then turn to Ryan. “Your hair is brown.” It’s the first thing I say to her, the only thing I can think to say.
Not responding, she pulls me into a hug and holds on to me tightly. I feel her breasts press against my chest, her hair tickles underneath my chin, and her feminine scent floods me, making me feel a little uneasy . . . because I like it.
When she pulls away, she grips my biceps and says, “You just helped me out so much. I can’t tell you how thankful I am.”
“Uh yeah, not a problem.” I grip the back of my neck.
“Let me buy you a drink to thank you.”
“I’m actually on my way out.”
She bites her lip, which is painted in a bright pink. “Hmm.” She looks around and then says nervously, “Give me your number. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
