Page 7 of Masters of Control

That was that then.

Damn. Q had been enjoying himself and wasn’t quite ready for it to be over.

“Want to go down to the bar and get a drink?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think them through, but he didn’t regret them.

Sam blinked, turning from Mistress Samantha back into Sam with that one movement.

“A drink? Like a date?”

She sounded more surprised than put off, so Q tried not to be insulted. Especially since, before tonight, they’d had a pretty volatile relationship. It was probably time to call a truce before the cock and ball torture started happening.

“Not a date…” Yeah, he didn’t need a repeat of what had happened when he’d asked her to prom. The sting of rejection had faded, but that didn’t mean he was going to set himself up to do it again. “Just… I thought maybe we could talk. Clear the air as it were.”

He waved his hand, and Sam nodded slowly.

“You’re probably right.” She took a deep breath, appearing more uncertain of herself than she had all night. “Sure, let’s do a drink.”

Something in Q’s chest squeezed. She said yes! And it wasn’t as though she would change her mind tomorrow because they were doing this right now. Maybe he’d even finally find out what had happened all those years ago when she’d said yes at first, then changed her mind.

“Great.” Q hopped up to his feet. He glanced over at Law, wanting to ask Law about Noelle, but Law was in the middle of a discussion with Emery and he didn’t want to give Sam a chance to run. It was better to stick by her side to make sure the drink actually happened. He met her gaze again and offered her his arm.

“Let’s go.”

With her hand securely wrapped around his arm, he felt a lot better about his chances of keeping her around for the conversation.

“Let me just grab my jacket,” she said, slowing when they stepped into the lobby. Q didn’t argue. It was fucking cold out, so he’d worn a coat as well, but he was surprised when he realized she meant an actual jacket in addition to her coat. As she pulled it on over her corset, he realized why she’d wanted it.

It covered up the corset and most of the tops of her breasts. Even though her skirt was leather, it blended well enough to make it look like she was a regular person out on the town, wearing a sexy black top and dress, but not like she had just been at a kink club. He’d been so preoccupied at the idea of getting to talk to her, he hadn’t considered that, but thankfully she’d come prepared.

Since it was a Monday night, the bar was pretty quiet, though the booths were filled up. Marquis was a popular restaurant, so the dining room still had a fair amount of people.

“Corner?” Q asked, nodding his head toward the corner of the bar where they’d be able to sit perpendicular to each other instead of side by side.

“Sounds good.” Though she still appeared nervous, Sam quickly took a step in the direction indicated, tugging slightly on his arm as she got a little ahead of him, but Q quickly fixed that. In her heels, she was almost exactly his height, which he liked, so he lengthened his stride to stay at her side.

There was only one other person at the bar, a woman sitting on the other side, staring at her phone. Q didn’t recognize her, so she probably wasn’t a member of Stronghold or Marquis. She didn’t glance up when he and Sam sat down, so he doubted he had to worry about her listening in.

“Hello, how are you two doing tonight?” Shane seemed to be a permanent fixture behind Marquis’ bar. About Q’s height, he was completely bald but had a well-trimmed salt and pepper goatee and sharp brown eyes that seemed to see more than most people.

“We’re good. Just came from class. Do you ever take a night off?” Q helped Sam onto the bar stool before he took his own seat.

“No, Olivia owns my soul,” Shane said, so matter-of-factly, Q wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. Sam giggled, though.

“Slow night?” she asked, and Shane shrugged in answer.

“It’s a Monday. What can I get you?”

They both ordered a beer from the tap, chatting with Shane while he poured. He headed back to the kitchen for something, and they were left alone in increasingly awkward silence. Q took a sip of his beer. He wanted to talk to Sam but had no idea what to say or how to get started.

“So, I guess you want to know why I changed my mind about going to prom with you?” Sam was staring down at the wooden bar top, not looking at him, tracing circles with her fingertip in the water from the condensation on her beer glass.

“I wasn’t going to go straight for that, but I have to admit, I am curious.” Q twisted on the seat, turning so he could give her his full attention.

One side of her lips lifted in a resigned smile.

“I was too poor,” she said bluntly, making Q blink.

His mind immediately went back to high school. Though she’d always been withdrawn in school, he’d assumed she was introverted and focused on her studies. He hadn’t noticed anything that would indicate that.