“That was my sister,” I tell him.
“Do you want to go out with her?”
“No,” I answer. “I love girls’ nights out, but I want something different this time.”
Winking, he says, “Let’s enjoy the hell out of this nondate.”
The venue is packed when we arrive, which is not surprising, given it’s Friday night. Eric and I enter through the VIP area. A friend of mine owns the club, and every time we speak, she reminds me that I’m permanently on the VIP guest list. I’ve never taken her up on her offer before. There are three floors, and the first two are too packed to breathe. The third one is for VIP guests only, and even so, it’s crowded.
“What do you want to drink?” Eric asks me.
“Red wine.”
He nods and heads to the bar, leaving me on my own. Several men ogle me with what are clearly unorthodox thoughts, and after a few minutes, one of them walks up to me. He’s wearing a black shirt with a white pattern that resembles an uninspired combination of a zebra and a Dalmatian.
I immediately put my fight face on.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.
“Thank you, but no.” I cross my arms over my chest and look away from him, hoping he’ll get the appropriate unavailable vi
be from me. He doesn’t.
“I bet you’re a vodka type,” he continues.
I groan. “Please don’t insist. I’m not interested in anything.”
The guy doesn’t budge. Unbelievable. I do the only sensitive thing and walk away, but the idiot follows me. Right. I knew I should have gone to Judo classes with Alice when she asked me to.
“You can’t—” he begins, but a deep voice interrupts him from behind me.
“Are you deaf?” Eric bellows. “She said no. Fuck off.”
“And you are?”
I have to give it to the guy; he’s got balls. Despite Eric looking every inch an alpha—and a pissed one at that—the guy doesn’t back off.
“Her fiancé. Leave, unless you want to have a black eye to match your shirt.”
At the word ‘fiancé,’ the muscles in my entire body clench. The guy blinks, panicked, and scurries away.
Eric hands me a glass, his gaze following the schmuck through the crowd.
“I was handling him. I can deal with things like this.” I take a sip of my wine, and it tastes delicious.
“I don’t doubt that,” he answers, finally snapping his gaze to me. “But just because you can doesn’t mean you have to.”
“Why not?”
“You have enough on your mind tonight without having to fend off idiots.” He raises his glass at me. “I’ll do that for you. The expression on his face when I said ‘fiancé’ was priceless.”
I tense again at the word, and this time, Eric takes notice.
“I crossed a line saying that?”
I shrug. “No, I’m—I don’t….” I don’t finish the sentence because I honestly don’t know why hearing that word makes me anxious. Probably because it brings back ugly memories. “Anyway, his face was priceless.”
“I’m surprised he bought it,” Eric says.