Page 58 of My Favorite Hero

“Great,” I muttered.

“I’m paying for the meal, so eat it,” he snapped.

I leaned forward. “Listen, jackass. You tell me I didn’t make any effort. You brought me to the same bar we were at the last two times for the pasta special. That’s way less effort than I put forth. You eat like an animal, and you’ve done nothing but insult me. Now, I’m leaving, and if you try to stop me, I’ll scream so loudly, your eardrums will bleed. Lose my number, and I don’t ever want to see you again.” I narrowed my eyes. “And the next time you kiss someone, get their permission.”

His face darkened, but he didn’t stop me this time. I walked past the bar and stopped when I saw our waitress. She smiled at me sympathetically. “He’s not so good with women. You’re not the first.”

I slipped some money into her hand. I had a feeling he wasn’t so good with tips either.

I headed to my car.

I ended up at a bar just down the street called the Watering Hole. I parked at the back and went in, ordering a wine spritzer and sipping it slowly. The bar was quiet, and no one bothered me. I ordered another one and brooded.

What a jackass. He was rude, inappropriate, and thought far too much of himself. My worry about the underlying edge to his humor should have been my first warning.

I finished my spritzer and ordered a clubhouse but only nibbled it. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and the drinks were making me sleepy. I paid my bill and headed to my car, sitting in the driver’s seat and feeling sorry for myself.

I also realized, even though it was a short distance, I couldn’t drive. I cursed when I realized I’d left my phone at home so I couldn’t call a cab, and I didn’t want to go back inside the bar. I made sure my doors were locked and slid my seat back. I’d nap for a while and let the alcohol wear off, then I would walk home.

I dozed, startling awake at a knock at my window. I looked up, surprised to see Jesse standing there. Frowning, I opened the door, and he stepped into the space.

“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

“I was driving by, and I saw your SUV. I also saw you sitting in it and wondered if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Why are you sitting in your car in the dark behind a bar, Casey?”

“My date didn’t go well.”

“I see. I wasn’t aware you were going on a date today.”

“He was an asshole.”

“I’m sorry.” He paused and leaned closer, sniffing me. “How much did you drink?”

“Only a couple of spritzers.”

“Spritzers? Do those count?”

I shrugged. “I’m a lightweight, and I didn’t eat much.”

“Driving under the influence? Do I need to make a citizen’s arrest?”

“I’m not driving,” I protested.

“But you could.”

I glared at him. “I’m reporting you for sexually harassing me.”

“I’m not harassing you!”

“But you could.”

He stared at me and started to laugh. “Touché. Move over, Casey. I’ll drive you home.”

“You have to work.”