Rounding the corner, he softly grabs the inside of my arm. “Here we are,” he says, leaving me hanging about his childhood. Ian opens the door for me and guides me in with his arm.
It's a small dive bar, with worn wooden floors and deep blue walls. Neon beer signs adorn the walls, with random scattered pictures that are in black and white. Stepping closer to the wall I study the images as Ian talks to the doorman.
One picture is of two men with their arms around each other while balancing one foot on a barrel. There's another one with a woman in a knee length dress and pearls that wrap her neck. Her hair is cut short into a bob, and I know instantly she's wearing red lipstick, even though there's no color in the photo.
“That's the owner's grandmother, or great grandmother, I think,” Ian says as he steps up closely behind me.
He's so close his breath spills down the back of my neck, causing goosebumps on my skin. Resting his mouth near my ear, he settles in more, closing all the space between us.
“This little guy down here is the owner's father and his brother. This place has been open since the nineteen twenties and run by the Den family. Rob, the oldest son, owns it now. He's a good friend of mine.”
“Wow, that's crazy it's been here so long.”
“They've dug their roots in deep.” Ian steps back, allowing cold air to swoop in.
Shivering, I hate that he's gone. I like him there like that. I feel protected and safe.
He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me to a pool table in the back corner. “It's definitely a cool place,” I say.
“The food is incredible too.” Standing on the tips of his toes, he whistles loudly, getting the bartender's attention. The bar tender smiles and nods. Ian definitely isn't a stranger here.
Holding up two fingers, the bartender nods again, and grabs two short, fat glasses off the shelf. Ian racks the table, chalking up the end of a stick.
“She's making us their signature drink.” Handing me a pool stick, he looks between the table and me. “You any good?”
“I've played before, but it's been a while.”
“Want me to break?”
“Go for it.” Hugging the stick, the girl from behind the bar brings us the drinks.
She smiles at Ian, and it causes my stomach to clench. I'm not normally a jealous person, but just the way she's looking at him is making me want to claw her eyes out.
“No Grey tonight, Ian?” She says his name playfully, resting the platter she had the drinks on at her waist.
“Not tonight,” he says, launching the stick forward and slamming the cue ball.
She smiles again, swaying back and forth on her feet. “You ordering food? Want the potato skins and chicken wings?” She steps in a little closer, biting her bottom lip as she twists the tip of her toe into the floor.
Back off, can't you see he's here with someone?
“Yeah, we'll take that, and. . .” he pauses, reaching out for me and pulling me in closer. Rubbing the small of my back, he looks right into my eyes. “Do like spinach dip?” he asks, his fingers massaging a little bit deeper into the muscle.
“Yeah,” I answer, sinking into his arm. He's holding me, and it feels good. It feels right.
Turning back to the girl, he gives her a few more things to add to our order. Only when he speaks to her now, I don't feel that jealousy. He made it clear with a single touch that he's with me.
She leaves us, and he goes back to the pool game. “I hope you're ready to get your ass kicked.” Attempting to hit one of the balls, he misses the pocket.
“I assumed you were good.” Taking my shot, I'm able to sink three balls in a row.
“And I thought you said you never really played?”
“I said I haven't played in a while.”
“All right, then how do you feel about making a bet?”
“A bet?”
“Yeah, a bet. If you win, I'll cook you dinner every single day for the next week. But if I win. . .” he draws out his voice and squints his eyes in thought. “Then you have to go sing on the karaoke machine over there.”
Pursing my lips, I grin. “Are you sure you want to do this? I like gourmet food.”
“Deal?” he asks, holding out his hand.
Taking his hand, I shake it. “You're going to regret this. I hope you know how to cook.”
“Yeah, I don't think so.” Leaning over the table, I clean up, knocking the rest of my balls in and making an easy eight ball shot. “So, dinner you say?”
“Let's make it best out of three.” Grinning, he racks again.
We spend the night playing pool, darts, and eating some of the best food I've ever had. Ian tells me about how Grey has always been protective him, and that they've always been close, even since they were kids.