He deflates, accepting that.
I make sure I’m the first one stepping outside the bathroom. The guy who’d been pounding his fist against the door takes an immediate step back, swallowing as his face turns up until he meets my eyes.
“Excuse me,” I say evenly.
He backs up, and I walk with Isaac past the line, ignoring the knowing looks. Isaac seems unbothered by them. Instead of returning to the dance floor, Isaac and I head back to our table, empty glasses and a fishbowl still waiting.
“Thirsty?” I ask.
Isaac nods, so I give his hand a quick squeeze before making my way toward the bar. There’s a line three people deep around the entire thing. As soon as a spot opens up, I order a couple waters.
While I wait, someone sidles up next to me. “Hey, handsome.”
I look the stranger’s way and give a polite nod.
He seems to take that as permission, fingers slipping through the belt loop at my hip. I like it a lot less than when Isaac did the same thing. “You here with someone?”
“I am,” I answer. “So I’d appreciate you removing your hand.”
His smile doesn’t falter. “I like the ink.”
Realizing he’s planning on ignoring my request, I gently pluck his hand free and turn back to the bar. The next second, fingers are smoothing over the back of my neck.
I close my eyes, letting out a sigh. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
He scoffs, even as he steps closer. “Honey, do you think I’m afraid of a big teddy bear like you?”
I glance his way, wondering if this guy is looking for someone to rough him up with the way he’s acting. It’s beside the point. “I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”
His brow creases for only a moment before his hand is unceremoniously flung from my neck.
Isaac pushes his way between us, every line of his body taut. “When someone says hands off, it meanshands off.”
“Oh, you have a little guard dog,” the guy says, his smile sharp. “Is he house-trained?”
I curl an arm around Isaac before he can do something he’ll regret. Lips at his ear, I murmur, “He’s looking for a fight. Don’t give him one.”
Isaac turns in my arms, the anger evident on his face.
“Move back,” I tell the other guy flatly. “You’re not going to get what you want here.”
He rolls his eyes before wandering off down the bar. I run a hand up and down Isaac’s arm.
“You told him to back off,” he says. He clearly saw the interaction, even if he couldn’t hear the words.
“Idid.”
“Hedidn’t.”
I press a kiss to the top of his head. “I can handle myself, Red.”
“And I’m allowed to get pissed when someone doesn’t listen to your boundaries.”
My exhale is small, my chest warm where Isaac is pressed against it. “Yes, you are.”
“I never want to watch you be uncomfortable, Trevor. You know that, right?”
There’s that fire again, curling around me like the most precious cocoon. “Oh, Red. I understand you perfectly.”
