Jonathan laughed hysterically as Evan jumped back and away from the mess, his hand going instinctively to the small of his back. I felt myself tense as the muscles in his arms contracted, and for a moment it looked like he might pull out a gun and shoot the kid. I had no idea what I was going to do if the dude actually pulled his gun in the middle of the bar.
He didn’t, thankfully.
The drunken kid stayed right there on the floor of the bar, lying amongst a pile of napkins, bottles, plastic cups, and spilled beer.
“Fucking moron,” Evan muttered. “I’m outta here.”
He adjusted the back of his jeans, and the sleek metal of a weapon peeked out slightly before he concealed it again. Without another word, he slipped between the body of onlookers and out the back door.
“That guy is…interesting,” Milena said
“A little too interesting,” I told her. “You maybe want to get out of here?”
She eyed me, and the rainbows tried to mesmerize me again.
“I mean – just take a walk or something? Go out for a smoke? It’s too loud to talk in here.”
“Yeah, I’ll go for the smoke,” she replied.
We went out the side door to a little area where a bunch of people were lighting up. I pulled a pack out of my pocket and made sure to light her smoke before my own.
Hey – I know how to be a gentleman!
I leaned against the rail at the edge of the patio and tried to get a good angle where I could see her eyes in the lamplight.
“You’re a man-whore,” she suddenly informed me. “You’re famous for it, according to the women in your group. They warned me to stay away from you.”
A hundred viable, bullshit stories ran around in my head.
“They’re probably right,” I said honestly. “Really, though – I don’t think of you like that.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” I shook my head solemnly.
“Something wrong with me?” she snapped.
God, I was starting to love that attitude.
“Nothing, as far as I can tell.”
She eyed me a moment longer, and I basked in it. It made my skin warm, even in the cool night breeze, and also made me totally forget about my cigarette, which burned down without me taking more than a couple hits off of it.
“I feel like everything you’re going to say to me is a line you’ve used on someone else,” Milena said.
“Is that what they told you?” I gestured towards the window and the group at our tables.
“Something like that.”
“I’m not,” I assured her and wondered if I was assuring. “Normally I would – they’re right – but I’m not. Not now.”
“Why not?”
I had no idea how to put it into words.
“I don’t know,” I told her with a lame shrug. “I just don’t want to with you.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you or not,” she said.