Page 58 of Mine

I nodded.

When I got back to the booth, only Scott’s date was there.

“Where’d he go?” I asked her.

She was resting her cheek on her elbow as she looked at me. “He went to get me another drink.”

I looked around and saw Landry still gyrating out on the dance floor. He was having a good time—his flushed face and sparkling eyes told me as much.

“That was impressive.”

I looked back at her. “What was?”

“You just got up and handled it, no second thoughts, just took care of things.”

I had no idea why any of that was cause for interest, but I heard that comment a lot. My father had once stood up in a movie theater, turned, and asked the man behind him to please stop talking. The guy rose up, bigger than him, and said no. My father then quietly asked him to step outside away from his children so they could talk about things. The man, who was really very big, looked at my dad, the intent on his face, the solid set of his eyes, and the stillness, and sat back down. My father thanked him and that was it. I had always been taught to just take care of whatever the problem was right then.

“What’s your name?”

“Trevan,” I told her.

She nodded, appraising me as she lifted up off the table, uncoiling. “I didn’t really see you before.”

I gave her a slight smile.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Here we go,” Scott said as he reached the table, putting some sort of blue frou-frou drink in a martini glass down in front of her and a Heineken down in front of me. “I wasn’t sure what to get, but I figured it was a safe bet.”

“Thanks,” I told him, taking a sip before Landry came charging up to the table, falling down into the booth, more on me than next to me. “Hey,” I greeted him, passing him the beer. “Thirsty?”

“Yeah, but not for that.” He shook his head. “I think I want a margarita or something.”

“Okay, lemme out and I’ll get it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scott’s date offered.

“No, I’ll go with you,” Landry told me, sliding back out, grabbing my hand and pulling me up beside him. His eyes were hooded, and the smile he gave me was just a curl of his lip. I couldn’t resist.

I slid my hand over his jaw, tipped his head up, and bent and kissed him. It was soft, just barely a press of my lips to his, but it was enough, I saw when I pulled back, to make the man glow.

“I might be ready to just go home,” he whispered, staring at me.

“Let’s get your drink and you can roll the dice, since you love that; then we’ll get a cab and go home.”

He nodded and I took his hand, turned and grabbed my suit jacket, thanked Scott for the beer, and tugged Landry after me.

“That girl wanted to fuck you.”

“You think everyone wants to fuck me,” I corrected him, leading him to the bar. “And it’s not true.”

He cleared his throat. “I saw you talking to that guy too, and I watched you move his hand off you.”

“You know how I am about my personal space.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said thoughtfully. “And you know how I am about your personal space.”

“Yes, I do,” I answered as I leaned on the bar and ordered his drink.