Page 8 of This I Promise You
That’s when I realize he’s not talking to me. His eyes are twitching between Aidan and anything else he can find.
“Hey.” Aidan smiles, because unlike me he’s nice to everyone. Not to say I’m not, but when some random comes up and interrupts my conversation, a smile isn’t what they usually get. Even if they are sort of hot.
There’s a pause. Well, this is awkward. His poetry was weird, and I didn’t understand it all, but I don’t mind looking at him.
“Yeah, so saw you at the bar earlier…and…uh…I…” The guy keeps falling over his own words. It's actually sort of endearing. “I’m Paul.”
He puts out his hand and Aidan shakes it. I can see the reservation in A’s face, but there’s the eternal optimist too. My eyes jump between them, wondering what’s about to happen next.
“I’m Aidan,” he introduces himself, and I’m about to step in and be like,hey we need to go, we don’t know this guy, when he keeps going. “And this is my friend, Easton. He’s single.”
My eyes go wide. What the hell, A? I mean yes, he’s hot, and part of me wouldn’t mind going down on him, but way to just sacrifice me!
“Pleasure to meet you, and you too, Easton.” Paul says my name almost like an afterthought before returning to Aidan. Makes sense. I’ve got nothing on Aidan. “Could I get you a drink? Maybe we could hang out for a bit,” he tries, his eyes still glitching between Aidan and anything but me, “if you have time?”
I lock on Aidan. For the tiniest second I see the gears grinding into overdrive behind his eyes. This guy might be A’s way to a drink. But then the gears screech to a stop and a calm smile crosses his face.
“I’m sorry, but I’m taken,” is all Aidan says.
God I respect the hell out of you right now, A.
“Oh, I could…still get you a dri—” he tries again.
“Excuse me.” I step between them and raise my heels off the ground to get closer to eye level with what’s-his-name…Paul. “He said he’s taken, dude. Don’t be a douchebag.”
Like, I don’t know where the gall came from. I’m not the type to jump in when things get testy, but it just happened. The words poured out, and it’s like I autopiloted straight to Stupidland. My brain didn’t finish computing before it decided to jump. Hell, the guy’s arms are carved in sculpted muscle and his hand could probably crush my throat. Not that I’m thinking about his hand around my neck.
“Excuseyou.” Paul’s voice deepens further, his eyes darken, and the nerves that just a second ago tinted his words are gone. His posture straightens and I lose another inch. “Who are you calling a fuckingdouchebag?”
“You,” I blurt. Again, why? I want to coil in on myself and cry, but I can’t show weakness now.
“I wasn’t talking to your bitch ass. I don’t give a fuck who youthinkyou are—”
“What the hell is going on here?” Huxley jumps in.
I saw her across the room before the open mic started. I’d meant to say hey—it’s been a few months since I’ve seen her—but I forgot. She pushes her braids back over her shoulder and eyes Paul down. Or up? Their height difference is jarring.
“This asshole won’t take no for an answer,” I tell her, while Aidan angles his head down and keeps his mouth closed tight.
“Paul?” She looks at him again, but there’s confusion painted across her face.
Wait, what? She knows him?
I don’t know Huxley well, but she doesn’t seem the type to hang around assholes. And this guy is one hundred percent asshole.
“I was only offering to get him a drink.” Paul nods toward Aidan.
“Well he’s taken, and he told you that, so beat it.” I keep up my bravado even though I don’t know where it’s coming from.
“If you say one more word to me I’llbeatyour ass.” Paul lurches forward in a false start, and it scares the hell out of me.
I jump back as Huxley throws herself between us, pushing Paul back as he reaches around her to get to me. I freeze. I don’t know what to do. I’m never in this type of situation and apparently I have no flight response, because I’m just staring at him like a paralyzed antelope ready to be devoured by a lion.
“What’s going on over here?” a voice yells from the counter, and then there are men rushing over and yelling for us to get out. It’s all a blur until we’re outside on the sidewalk. Then the fact that I about got my face beat in for opening my stupid mouth sinks in. My pulse races. I take a deep breath. We’re not out of deep shit yet. The Paul guy is still here.
I turn to Aidan. His eyes are wide and annoyed, and his mouth is moving, and slowly the words take form in my ears.
“—a grip, man.”
