Even in my fucking career choice, I’m drawn to the need to protect him.
Which is why, when I see him flinch and stiffen as the guy at the bar presses into him and slips a hand in his front pocket, I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing; I simply act.
Squeezing in between the patrons at the bar, I make my way toward Stone and the mystery man. I don’t stop until I’m right in front of Stone.
“Do you want him?” I ask quickly and quietly.
Stone shakes his head.No.
“Just go with it,” I whisper, briefly registering his look of confusion, clearly thinking I’m telling him to ignore his discomfort and let the guy grope him, before I say loud enough for the guy to hear me as I rip his hand out of Stone’s pocket and wrap my arms around Stone’s waist, pulling him against me, nuzzling my face into his neck. “This one’s spoken for. I swear, I leave for five minutes to take a piss, and the wolves descend.”
I don’t have tofakemy anger. I don’t have topretendto be annoyed that this guy is touching Stone.
In fact, I completely forget that I’m acting, that we’re here to find a potential hookup for Stone, that I’m supposed to be helping him figure out what he likes and wants, not going all caveman on the first guy who gets close.
But when Stone leans into me and awayfrom the guy behind him, I don’t give a shit about what we came here to do; I just care about getting him out of here.
I grab his hand and pull him away from the bar back toward the couch where we left our coats.
“Han, I want?—”
I know what he wants.
“I know, baby. We’re going home.”
SHIIIIIIIIIIIT.
Did I just call him baby?
Ohmyfuckinggod. I did.
I’m actually not sure what’s more shocking: my calling him baby, or the low moan that escaped from his mouth after I said it.
No. Nope. Not going there.
He’s drunk, and I’m a dumbass. The end.
I get him loaded into his Tahoe and start the trek back to his house, turning up the radio until I realize his Bad Omens station is playingDying to Love. It might be a little tooon the nosefor right now.
I move to turn it back down, but Stone stops me.
“I like this song.”
“Uh, yeah, okay,” I stammer, trying to breathe through my heartache.
How the fuck did this happen?How did I allow myself to start thinking about Stone likethat?
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, staring out the window as we inch toward his house on the snowy roads.
“Nothing I can say out loud,” I tell him, apparently wanting to spill my guts because why the fuck wouldn’t I just say ‘nothing’ like a normal person?
“Maybe it’s the same thing I’m thinking then,” he says, still staring out the window as though speaking into the darkness is safer thanlooking anywhere else.
I snort a derisive laugh. “I highly doubt that.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Stone turn to look at me. He’s silent for a while. When we turn onto his street, he finally breaks his silence.
“Are you okay? You’re gripping the steering wheel awfully tightly.”
