The man holding onto me sneers as he eyes Bentley up and down. "You seriously think your scrawny self can make me do anything?"
"When it comes to you harassing my friends, I'll do anything in my power to make sure they are safe." He touches my shoulder, letting me know he's behind me, and my body relaxes the tiniest bit at the contact.
The man laughs, and his grasp loosens the tiniest fraction. "You and what army?"
"I don't need an army, but my friend here," he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and a much larger shadow falls over us. "He's not too keen on people manhandling women either."
The man in question says and his voice is deep, "Where I come from men don't manhandle women to get what they want."
Suddenly, my arm is free and I pull it toward me as if I'm nursing a wound. "Thank you."
The stranger pushes back his chair and takes a step back, "I'll just go."
"That's probably a good idea. But you should probably just leave the bar because I've already informed the waitress to keep an eye out, and I'm certain she's called hotel security." The man's face is red as he throws cash down on the table he was at and hurries out of the bar.
Bentley turns me around and bends down until our eyes meet. "Are you okay?"
Even though he only had his hands on me for a couple of minutes, it feels like it's been hours. "Yeah, I'm fine." That doesn't mean I won't have nightmares about that guy practically forcing himself on me, even though he only grabbed my arm.
"Good," he says. "As soon as I realized you walked in, I had the bartender keep an eye on you."
"You've been here the entire time?" What the hell? He had every opportunity to come to me, and the fact that he knew I was here and said nothing it's kind of creepy, but also, not that surprising. "Why didn’t you say anything?"
He shrugs, "I don't know. You were here with your friend, and you made it perfectly clear earlier that you didn't have any interest in me bugging you again."
That might be one of the few times my words come back to bite me in the ass. "Well, thank you for coming to my rescue. I'd like to say that we could've handled it, but that guy was worse than any other unwanted attention we've gotten."
"Yeah, usually my pitchy voice gets them to go away, and that guy…he just wasn't having it." Hazel comes up to my side and bumps my shoulder. "I honestly don't know what he would have been capable of. So, thank you."
"I seriously hate guys like that. His mama definitely didn't teach him any manners." That comes from the guy standing beside Bentley.
"Hi, I'm Serena," I hold my hand out to shake his hand.
He steps around Bentley and wraps me in a hug. "I'm, Ross. It's kind of crappy that these are the circumstances we're meeting under." He takes a step back and shakes his head. "Sorry, I just said I don't like dudes who overstep their bounds and I just went in for a hug. That would also be my mom's fault. She's a hugger."
I laugh, "It's fine. You don't give off creepy abductor vibes."
Hazel waves at him, "Are you going to be on our flight tomorrow?"
"Of course, I have to see my favorite flight attendant." He gives her a wink and her cheeks redden.
We all stand there awkward and silent for a minute, and Hazel nods her head to the bar, "So do you want to go grab a drink?" Bentley's teammate nods, and he and Hazel leave Bentley and I to our own devices.
I gestured to the seat behind me, "At this point, it would be kind of rude if I didn't invite you to sit."
"Thanks." He rounds the table and takes the seat Hazel was previously sitting in. "I would have been over here sooner, but by the time the bartender came back around, you had already started raising your voice."
"That is an experience I never want to have again. I knew I should have just stayed in the hotel room tonight."
"But if you did that, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to rescue the damsel in distress."
"So, do you have some kind of hero complex I don't know about? First you stepped in with my awkward conversation without me asking, and now this?”
The bartender comes over and sets fresh glasses on the table. "Those are on the house."
"Thanks," Bentley says. He turns his focus on me, "neither one of these situations was something I planned on. I'm just happy I came down to the bar with my teammate tonight. Otherwise, that could've gone a completely different direction."
"Believe me, I'm grateful." I take a sip of my drink and look around the room, doing anything I can to keep my gaze off the man who continually comes to my rescue and surprises me.
