“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart,” the shorter one sneers at Harlow. “We just like our girls petite. Head on back to the pool table, I’m sure you’ll find a guy who likes mouthy chicks with big feet. We like all kinds here.”
“Yeah, I know, this is my local, you stupid fuck,” Harlow says. She doesn’t seem to have seen me, and I don’t make a move to shove past the slobbery couple just yet.
If we’re lucky, Harlow will be able to shut this down without me. I’ve been in enough situations like this to know once these meatheads smell another alpha male in the room, they’ll want to prove themselves by smashing my face in. And while I’m pretty sure I can take them both, I’d rather not have the police called on me tonight. Even with witnesses to confirm I didn’t start anything, you never know who the cops will decide to believe.
“And Barry and I are tight,” Harlow continues. “One word from me and you’re both banned for life. So, if you enjoy cheap beer and not having a four-hundred-pound man’s foot up your ass, you should get out of our way and stop scaring my friends.”
“I’m not scared,” Jess says, blinking up at Buzz Cut behind her glasses. “I’m confused. We don’t know you, we didn’t make eye contact with you on the way in, and we’ve made it clear we aren’t interested. Why are you still…bullying us?” She cocks her head quizzically. “Or whatever this is?”
Buzz Cut laughs. “Your tits look really good in that shirt, especially when your mouth is shut.”
Evie glares at the guy but Jess only looks more confused.
Her forehead wrinkles as she says, “See? That’s weird. That kind of behavior isn’t going to get you laid, so I’m a bit puzzled about the endgame here.”
“This is the endgame,” Evie says, stepping in front of Jess and shielding her with her only slightly taller body. She’s wearing the same outfit from this afternoon, but with darker eyeliner that makes her narrowed eyes look decently menacing as she adds, “Some guys get off on harassing women. It makes them feel powerful.” She glances between the two guys before she arches a brow and folds her arms with a little smirk. “But with guys like these two, it’s usually just a way to deny their deep-seated desire to make out with each other.”
“Yeah, right,” Shorter Guy says with a bark of a laugh. “Come over here, little girl, and I’ll show you just how straight I am.”
“There’s nothing wrong or not-masculine about being gay, you know. Even some football players are out now,” Evie says, adding to the uneasy feelings spreading through my gut.
If she’s not careful, her mouth is going to get her in trouble with these two, but I’m hesitant to step in just yet. If she and her friends are going to make a habit of going out to bars, they’ll need to learn how to deal with jerks like these.
Though, honestly, the bouncer should be here by now. Or the bartender.
The music is loud, and the bar is crowded, but surely, I’m not the only one who’s noticed this shit.
I glance over my shoulder, but the bartender is at the opposite end of the bar, embroiled in a loud conversation with a bearded-grandpa type with a dirty bandana tied around his neck and the huge, muscled man who was by the door when Cameron and I came in is nowhere to be found.
I get that everyone needs a bathroom break now and then, but where the hell is he?
I turn back in time to see Buzz Cut reach a hand toward Evie’s arm, proving it’s time to intervene. But if I play this right, maybe we can still avoid a brawl.
“Hey there, darlin’,” I shout in a buoyant, slightly slurred voice. I stumble around the panting couple, earning a sharp, “Hey, watch it!” from the woman before the guy’s wide, seeking mouth finds hers again and they return to sampling each other’s saliva.
I laugh and jab a thumb at them over my shoulder. “I think they have the right idea. Come over here, baby, I’ve missed you.” I reach for Evie, hoping she’ll realize what I’m up to and play along.
Her eyes widen, but after only a beat of hesitation, she extends her hand, grabbing mine and holding on tight. “I missed you, too, sugar bear. Did you order apps? I’m starving.” Without sparing the meathead mountains another glance, she reaches back, grabs Jess’s arm and drags her friend out of the corner as I lead the way toward the back, shouting, “Not yet, but I could go for wings. Who wants wings? Jess, Harlow, do you want wings? And if so, do you like them spicy or sweet?”
But a glance over my shoulder reveals Harlow is still where we left her, glaring up at the shorter, darker-haired guy, though Jess, Evie, and I are now well out of the line of fire.