“She ended up dating one of the cops.” Bastian's eyes twinkled as he sipped on his drink.
“Poor Leo! All that work and nakedness and Gabe didn't even get his girl.” I started laughing and Bastian joined in.
I loved hearing Bastian laugh. It was rich and deep, with a joy that just made me want to join in with him. I could listen to him laugh all day. I could listen to his stories all day. I wanted to hear more, to find out more about the people in his life and everything I could in his world.
Bastian reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. I could see the light going off as a call came in. He looked at it and then looked at me apologetically.
“It's Charlotte with an update on the app. Would you mind terribly if I took this?” His gray eyes held hope that I wouldn't be angry.
I smiled at him. “No, say hi for me. I'll go get us more drinks.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, relieved that I wasn't going to get angry. I understood that he was a billionaire and that required he take the odd phone call when we were out having fun. Business never stopped. Besides, I liked Charlotte.
I made my way over to the bar. It was busy, with three servers working. I found an empty space and wiggled my way in to get my order.
“Hey, hot stuff,” a drunk voice said behind me. I didn't turn to acknowledge him. I was here with someone and I wasn't interested in dealing with anyone who called me “hot stuff.”
I grabbed my drinks from the bartender and turned to leave, but blocking my way was Mr. “hot stuff.” He had on a garish salmon t-shirt and lime-green plaid shorts that made my eyes hurt just looking at them.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to work my way around him and not spill my two drinks. I just wanted to get back to Bastian, not deal with some drunk frat boy.
“Come on, baby, let me buy you a drink...” the man slurred, looking me up and down and grinning. His oversized aviators fell off his head and he stumbled to pick them up. It gave me my opening to escape.
I held up my two drinks, as I moved. “Not interested.”
“Denied!” yelled one of Salmon-shirt's buddies, pointing at Salmon-shirt. There were three of them at a pool table, all wearing different versions of the plaid short/garish t-shirt combo. They all began to laugh at Salmon-shirt, so I just I hurried away and back to Bastian.
“Anything important?” I asked as I sat down and slid him his drink.
He shook his head. “Just Charlotte checking in. Things are right on schedule.”
“How is she?” I asked, hoping he would read into the question a little bit.
“Fine.” He took a sip of his drink and leaned back. “And, no, there isn't anything interesting going on between her and Leo. She wanted me to tell you that.”
I giggled and scooted my chair back to where our legs could touch again. “Tell me more about your adventures in streaking,” I asked, batting my eyelashes at him.
“I actually think it's your turn,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear. “I want to hear all about you being naked.”
I blushed, but took a sip of my drink and started to tell him the story of how I went streaking that one time in college.
***
Several hours and some drinks later, Bastian and I stumbled out of the bar. It had become even more crowded as the night had gone on and we both had work in the morning. Even so, I was delightfully tipsy, and from the not-quite-straight way Bastian was walking, he wasn't much better. It felt wonderful.
I held onto his burly arm as we stepped out into the hot night air. It felt almost cooler out here without all the people crowding into the small space. Bastian patted his pocket for the keys and I giggled as he stumbled on a perfectly straight step.
“I can't drive,” he announced. He looked at me and how I was hanging off of him and giggling uncontrollably. “And neither can you. I'll call Elijah.”
“Where is he?” I asked, looking around. I hadn't seen him all night.
“I asked him to be discreet tonight,” Bastian informed me with a wink. I giggled, feeling naughty.
Bastian pulled out his phone and hit a button. “Elijah. We need a ride.” Someone said something on the other line and Bastian hung up. He glanced back at the bar door. “He'll be here in just a minute. I'm going to go use the bathroom for a second.”
“You can use it for more than a second,” I teased. “In fact, I'd recommend it.”
Bastian chuckled and kissed me on the forehead. He looked so relaxed and calm. This had been a great evening. He grinned and headed back inside.
I stood out on the front porch, watching the insects buzz the lights. It was quiet out here, as the party was going on inside. The sounds of the bar were muffled through the heavy door as I made my way to the far end of the porch. The night air was thick and heavy. I could get used to nights like this, I thought, taking a deep breath in. Especially with Bastian.
“All alone now, aren't you, hot-stuff?”
I spun to see Salmon-shirt walking up the side steps of the front porch. The hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle.
“My date's just in the bathroom,” I stated, looking at the door to the bar and suddenly finding it very far away. “He'll be back any minute.”
“Sure he will,” Salmon-shirt agreed. The stagger and red in his eyes said that he was definitely drunk. I swallowed hard as his three buddies came out from behind the bar and stood in the parking lot. One of them opened the door to a very expensive-looking car and pulled out a flask. As if they hadn't had enough to drink already.
“Please, I don't want any trouble,” I said, trying to figure out if I could make a run for the bar doors. I didn't want to appear to obvious, but I no longer felt safe out here alone. Everything about these men screamed spoiled, rich brats. They were all Chads, but with an unlimited supply of money. If they wanted something, they could just take it.
“It's no trouble at all, hot-stuff,” Salmon-shirt assured me. He strode toward me, putting himself quickly between me and the door to the bar faster than I had expected. I was trapped. “But you see, you embarrassed me in front of my friends.”
One of his friends yelled out something that sounded vulgar. My heart started to pound and my palms went sweaty.
He licked his lips and raised his hand, trying to brush a strand of hair out of my face. There was no way in hell I was letting him touch me, even if it was just to brush some hair away. I smacked his hand away from me as hard as I could.
“Touch me again, and I'll put you down,” I threatened. The forcefulness of my words caught me by surprise. It probably had to do with that he reminded me so much of Chad. That and the alcohol.