Deep (Stage Dive 4)

His forehead was furrowed, his mouth a severely straight, unimpressed line. Goodness, did he look angry. Between the beard and the expression on his face, he looked downright barbaric. He might as well be dressed in furs and carrying a spear, presenting me with the boar he’d caught for dinner. Ah, good old-fashioned Stone Age romance.

“How you doing?” I asked.

Still nothing from him.

“Did you want something to drink? I was just about to move on to another club, but if you’d like to hang here for a while, that’s fine with me.”

He set a hand on the bar either side of me, fencing me in. Huh.

“Having a good night?” I asked.

“Not really. Been looking for you.”

“That’s sweet. But you didn’t need to do that.”

“You knew I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes, I knew.”

“You said we’d talk later.”

“I know. But here’s the thing: maybe I didn’t want to talk to you after all, Ben. Maybe I just want to forget what happened and move on with my life.”

Behind him, two of the bar’s bulky security guys ever so gently escorted my former drunken dance partner from the premises.

“Bye, Mike.” I finger waved.

“And what the fuck were you doing with that guy?” he growled.

“Dancing, until he got a wee bit too inebriated. My safety isn’t the issue here. I have my friend Sam with me, should I run into any trouble.” I nodded to where the man stood by the bar.

If anything, his presence just seemed to make Ben crankier. “Then why wasn’t he doing something about that idiot crawling all over you?”

“Probably because he knew I had it covered.”

He cocked his head. “You had it covered?”

“Yep.”

“Funny, sweetheart. Cause I could have sworn I walked in here to find some drunken asshole trying to maul you.” The man, he fumed, his cheeks turning red and eyes blazing. It was kind of impressive.

“I realize it looked bad, but I had it under control.”

“You did, huh?” His laughter, it didn’t really sound the smallest bit amused. “Christ. You’re done here.”

“Ah, no. I’m actually not. Now see, this is where we have a problem.” I folded my arms. Then unfolded them because like fuck I’d look defensive. He was the one in the wrong, not me. “You’re not prepared to take me, or my feelings, seriously. What you want is to hide away in Mr. Too Cool for Commitment land and just play with my affections when it suits you. Okay, I’ve accepted that. But none of that means it’s okay for you to come in here and act like you’re the boss of me. None of it.”

“That so?” he asked, leaning down so that we were almost nose to nose.

“That’s so, baby.” I play-punched him in the shoulder, which it should be noted, I barely came up to. Okay, so maybe the alcohol on a mostly empty stomach had made me slightly/lots braver/sillier. “So why don’t you take your little caveman jealous tantrum bullshit somewhere else. See, I do this funny thing I like to refer to as whatever the fuck I want. Understand?”

He just stared.

“And as pretty as you are with your beard and your muscles, you are too damn tricky and … complicated and shit for me.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are. Are you finally seeing my point here?”

“You bet.”

“Excellent. So take your hotness elsewhere, kind sir. I want no part of it!” Huh. I had so told him. Drunken bravado was the best.

He nodded once, not so much at my words but as if he’d decided something. It didn’t take me long to find out what. The man grabbed my hips tight and bent, setting his shoulder to my middle.

“Don’t—”

And up I went. Then down went the front half of me. Down, over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.

“Ben, put me down.”

His arm went around my knees, a hand holding onto the back of one thigh. Almost at a not cool height. Though not a single little damn thing about this actually was cool. Then the ground started moving beneath us.

“Ben!”

He didn’t even slow down.

“I take it you’re finished for the night, Miss Rollins,” asked Sam.

“Make him put me down,” I screeched.

“I’m afraid I can’t interfere. You see, Mr. Nicholson also contributes to my wages.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Puts me in kind of a difficult situation. You understand.”

I had nothing.

“To be fair, he texted me asking where you were, hours ago,” said Sam. “I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh yeah, you’re a peach.”

Sam grinned. The jerk.

“I’ve got this,” grumbled the prehistoric asshole carrying me.

“Right,” said the incredibly useless security man. “Might go lose some money on a card game, then. Night-night.”

Ben just grunted.

So I smacked him on the ass. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous. Put me down.”

“Nope.”

“Do you have any idea how insane this must look?”

“Don’t care.”

“I do. God, Ben. You drive me nuts.”

Another grunt. How original.

My laughter came out slightly too high-pitched, too crazy. What a night.

So tempting to lose my shit, but no. Conflict resolution. I was a professional to the last. “Ben, why don’t you put me down and we can talk about whatever you want over a drink. You’ve obviously got my attention now.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t take your request to talk seriously before. Let me make it up to you.”

He ignored me.

Pity those around us didn’t. They giggled and pointed and carried on like we were a damn comedy act. But did anyone think to try and help me? No.

People.

“I’m trying to be reasonable here!”

“I know.”

“Which is pretty fucking mature of me, given I’m upside down talking to your ass, Ben!” I growled in frustration, slapping at his rear one more time just for fun. Had ever a man been born so bone of head and firm of butt? I think not.

“Keep that up, I’m going to start giving it back to you,” he warned. “And my hands are a hell of a lot bigger than yours, Liz.”

“You are such an asshole.”

“You know, you act all cute, but you’ve got a mouth on you when you get riled up.”