“You should end your night early and come hang out with me. What do you say?” Is this guy serious? Lana just told him we want to be alone, and he isn’t getting the hint. What the fuck is wrong with some men? I slide out of my seat and stand. If he’s not going to get a clue, then I’ll find someone here who will make him. We should have sat at the front of the bar. This probably wouldn’t be happening if we were closer to people, instead of one of the darkest corners of the room.
I take a step, and his hand snakes out, grabbing my arm. “Where are you going, sweetheart? We’re just talking.”
My blood is boiling. While I’ve had no problem going back and forth with Bentley, it’s different this time. This man isn't anything like Bentley. Not once have I ever felt like I was in any danger with the basketball player. But the man who invited himself to our table? That's a different story. Just from our small interaction, he is definitely one of those guys you hear about on the news. "Please, let go of my arm."
"Sit down, and I'll let go. Like I said, we're just talking and getting to know each other." His grip on my arm tightens, and I try to pull away.
I raise my voice much louder than is necessary. "If we are just talking, you have no reason to keep me from leaving the table. Now, let go of me."
Lana shakes her head the slightest bit, a warning to keep my cool because we don't know what this man is capable of. I'm about to pull my arm out of his grasp, once again, but her eyes go wide.
A deep voice sounds from behind me, "Sir, you should probably do what the lady asked." My heart flutters at the sound of his voice, and as much as I hate to admit it, I'm happy he showed up.
"This is none of your business. You should go back to wherever you came from and leave us be."
"You have two options, let her go…or I'll make you."
The man holding onto me sneers as he eyes Bentley up and down. "You seriously think your scrawny self can make me do anything?"
"When it comes to you harassing my friends, I'll do anything in my power to make sure they are safe." He touches my shoulder, letting me know he's behind me, and my body relaxes the tiniest bit at the contact.
The man laughs, and his grasp loosens the tiniest fraction. "You and what army?"
"I don't need an army, but my friend here," he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and a much larger shadow falls over us. "He's not too keen on people manhandling women either." The man in question says and his voice is deep, "Where I come from men don't manhandle women to get what they want."
Suddenly, my arm is free and I pull it toward me as if I'm nursing a wound. "Thank you."
The stranger pushes back his chair and takes a step back, "I'll just go."
"That's probably a good idea. But you should probably just leave the bar because I've already informed the waitress to keep an eye out, and I'm certain she's already called hotel security." The man's face is red as he throws cash down on the table he was at and hurries out of the bar.
Bentley turns me around and bends down until our eyes meet. "Are you okay?"
Even though he only had his hands on me for a couple of minutes, it feels like it's been hours. "Yeah, I'm fine." That doesn't mean I won't have nightmares about that guy practically forcing himself on me, even though he only grabbed my arm.
"Good," he says. "As soon as I realized you walked in, I had the bartender keep an eye on you."
"You've been here the entire time?" What the hell? He had every opportunity to come to me, and the fact that he knew I was here and said nothing it's kind of creepy, but also, not that surprising. "Why didn’t you say anything?"
He shrugs, "I don't know. You were here with your friend, and you made it perfectly clear earlier that you didn't have any interest in me bugging you again."
That might be one of the few times my words come back to bite me in the ass. "Well, thank you for coming to my rescue. I'd like to say that we could've handled it, but that guy was worse than any other unwanted attention we've gotten."
"Yeah, usually my pitchy voice gets them to go away, and that guy…he just wasn't having it." Lana comes up to my side and bumps my shoulder. "I honestly don't know what he would have been capable of. So, thank you for me to."
"I seriously hate guys like that. His mama definitely didn't teach him any manners." That comes from the guy standing beside Bentley.
"Hi, I'm Jolene," I hold my hand out to shake his hand.
He steps around Bentley and wraps me in a hug. "I'm, Ross. It's kind of crappy that these are the circumstances we're meeting under." He takes a step back and shakes his head. "Sorry, I just said I don't like dudes who overstep their bounds and I just went in for a hug. That would also be my mom's fault. She's a hugger."
I laugh, "It's fine. You don't give off creepy abductor vibes."
Lana waves at him, "Are you going to be on our flight tomorrow?"
"Of course, I have to see my favorite flight attendant." He gives her a wink and her cheeks reddened.
We all stand there awkward and silent for a minute, and Lana nods her head to the bar, "So do you want to go grab a drink?" Bentley's teammate nods, and he and Lana leave Bentley and I to our own devices.