“Naturally, mixing so many people from various fandoms with alcohol leads to some... intense opinions and frequent fights, but most of it is in good spirits. You know how it goes. Ninety percent of people are content, so you don’t hear about the good stuff because they don’t have any reason to make a scene. It’s the ten percent that scream their opinions louder like that makes them more valid.” On our way to the bar, I make a mental tally of everyone in the place, particularly the half dozen blonde men. “Besides, they have the best burgers in the tristate area.”
One day, Amara will be so confident in my ability to keep her safe that she won’t hesitate to have a drink in public, but I’m under no delusions that that day is still far off in our future. Hell, even drinking at home with the three of us isn’t something I foresee for quite some time, and I don’t want to give her the wrong impression now.
“Two house specials and bottled waters, please, Vince.”
The bartender tips his head and takes my card. “Haven’t seen you around for a while, Kodi. Was starting to get worried that new infernal brewery poached you out from under me, too.”
“You kidding me?” I scoff. “Helix has nothing on this place. Nah, I’ve been off making an honest man of myself.”
Passing the order to the kitchen, he returns with our water bottles, eyebrows rising into his receding hairline. "You got married?"
"Not yet, but the night’s still young, and I’m optimistic."
Amara thanks him as she takes her bottle. "You're ridiculous."
Vince chuckles, drifting off to help another customer. "That's the understatement of the century. Boy's like a dog with a bone when he gets his mind set on something. Good luck, sweetheart, you’re gonna need it with this one."
We head off to my usual table to wait, but I give her my favorite seat in the house; the one that offers a complete view of the place with your back to the wall. As she furrows her brow, I know she realizes it, too, but doesn’t call me out. She simply brings her water bottle to her ear to listen for the breaking of the seal and takes a drink.
The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I don't want to ruin our date by dredging up the past, especially not with the conversation already waiting for us at home. We have an eternity to get to know everything about each other. Peaceful bubbles like this are far too precious to burst prematurely without a damn good reason.
For her, I can be patient. It may go against everything screaming inside of me to skip straight to our happily ever after, but Amara is a journey I don’t want to miss a second of.
“The couple three tables to your left.” I take a sip of my water, watching them out of the corner of my eye. “What do you think? I’m torn between third date nerves, and first time app meet up.”
To her credit, she’s incredibly discreet as she makes her assessment. Humming in contemplation, she counters, “She’s touched her stomach four times in as many minutes, and is about to chew her bottom lip off. I’m betting she met him somewhere public to let him know she’s pregnant because she’s scared of how he’ll react.”
Giving up the pretense, I turn in my seat to face the couple with concern. “And she chose a bar? Seems a poor choice to add alcohol to the mix if she’s worried about his temper.”
Amara clucks her tongue, pulling my attention right back to her. “I didn’t say temper, I said reaction. Some people are more amicable after you’ve gotten a few drinks in them. I’d say she’s doing him a courtesy of softening the blow, but wanted the ability to walk out if he wasn’t excited. You don’t always get that kind of exit choice when you meet someone at their apartment.”
What I had thought would be a fun game of people watching and making up stories dies before it ever got off the ground. Our food is delivered, and I don’t give her a chance to object. First I switch our plates, then take a small bite of each burger and a couple of fries to test that neither meal was tampered with.
“What if that was roofied?” she snaps, and maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I do believe that’s concern for my well being undercutting her harsh tone.
“Then let me quickly pre-establish consent for you to do with me what you will before it takes effect.” Craning my neck, I attempt to eavesdrop on the couple’s conversation. “Five bucks says he’s shocked, but when she misinterprets his silence and gets up, he rushes to catch up and kisses the hell out of her.”
Sighing, she watches me for signs of poisoning, and the two strangers out of the corner of her eye. “Deal, but I’m betting he won’t recover quickly enough and she’ll get outside before we can see how it plays out.”
“You don’t think he’ll be upset?”
She tentatively grabs a fry and slowly takes a small bite. I desperately wish I could take a picture for the others, I’m so damn thrilled over it. “Are we watching the same couple? He’s almost dropped his beer twice from how sweaty his palms are, and he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her in the last five minutes. The man is head over heels in love with her, but she doesn’t know it.”
While she watches them, I watch her, smiling softly. “Amazing how people can miss what’s staring them in the face, isn’t it?”
Nothing happens while we devour our food, and we’re so caught up in our real life reality show that we hardly say two words to each other, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s a balm to my soul not having to fight to keep her attention, to scramble for conversation as an excuse to delay her from leaving. Cathartic in a way I wasn’t expecting, but needed more than I’d realized.
We can be alone together, and I’ll die a happy man with her at my side in whatever capacity she needs me. Neither of us will ever have to suffer alone again.
Amara wipes her hands on a napkin and slides her gloves back into place with a sigh. “Maybe I was wrong.”
Out of my pocket, I retrieve my riding gloves and slide them on. They’re unnecessary while Amara has hers in place, but it would be pretty shitty of me to expect her to bear the brunt of responsibility where protection is concerned. I might want her to wear my mark with every fiber of my being, but she isn’t ready. Yet. And unless I respect that, I don’t deserve a place on her skin.
“Dance with me?”
She eyes my offered hand like it’ll bite her. “I don’t know how.” With a shrug, she elaborates, “No point. Pressing up against someone in the middle of a pit of writhing bodies is a careless, unnecessary risk.”
“Not anymore.” Holding her stare, I raise an eyebrow in challenge. “None of these people matter, beautiful. It’s our mark that you wear... even if it isn’t quite complete yet. You stumbled into our lives and set us all free, so let me repay the favor, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”
