I keep my focus on the drink in front of me while urging my body to stand straight instead of leaning back into the magnetic pull this faceless stranger has on me. Startled, the man next to me moves back an inch and volleys his attention from me to the mystery man behind me. “Oh, are you gonna lie and tell me she’s your girlfriend or something? Don’t worry, she doesn’t need rescuing from me. We’re just ironing out our plans for the night, so if you don’t mind—”
“I mind,” he declares, as his dominance vibrates off his chest.
I’m no damsel in distress, but damn if those two words don’t have me weak in the knees and looking for his white horse to ride off into the sunset, or Collins Drive in this instance.
Without giving the man a chance to speak, my mystery man behind me continues. “And for the record, I don’t need to lay claim to any woman in order to protect her from creeps like you. So in an attempt to level the scales for all the men out there, I’m going to step in. Every time. For every woman. Regardless of who she is to me. Now, I’m going to tell you one more time to step the fuck away from her.” He pauses for a moment. “Make me tell you a third time, and you won’t make it till the New Year. Test me.”
Whoosh. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the sound of my panties incinerating.
At this point, my curiosity can no longer hold out. I turn in place, and my breath catches. The music fades to the background, and I don’t even notice the moment in which the creep skedaddles. My eyes are on the mountain of a man who stands in front of me. I’m in heels, and I only reach the barrel of his chest. He’s dressed in all black. Shoes, slacks, and dress shirt. The top buttons tease me with the view of a muscular chest. I crane my neck and immediately find myself drowning in deep caramel brown eyes. All traces of roughness have been erased from them. Only concern remains.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Uh yeah. Thank you for that,” I say, breathier than intended.
He notices and smiles, because, of course, he must know the effect he has on women. And with the alpha man rescue act? Oh God. I never stood a chance.
He chuckles. “I’m just going to order a drink and then I’ll be out of your hair.” He hesitates. “But can I know your name? I’m not trying to swoop in and be the next creep in line, I promise.” He smiles, and I turn into complete mush. The man has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, wide and bright, with the most adorable dimple on his right cheek.And that voice.
But as much as my lady bits are going wild, you can never be too careful. Even serial killers can be handsome. So I give him the name I tell all men at clubs. “I’m Nicolette.” Which is not a lie; it’s my legal name. But no one has ever called me Nicolette. I’ve always been Nikki. Yet it always feels safer to have a stranger call me that instead of the name my loved ones use.
“Nicolette,” he says with reverence, a hint of a Spanish accent slipping into my name. In that moment, I’m contemplating never having anyone call me Nikki ever again. “Nice to meet you, Nicolette. I’m Tony.”
Tony.
He holds out a hand so massive it could be a baseball mitt. I slip my small hand into his to shake but still when my body feels like it’s burning up in flames. Slowly, the sensation runs from my hand, all the way up my arm, until I can feel it all the way down to my toes.
I look up at him and watch an unreadable expression flash over his face and his mouth gape slightly. I can feel the moment he sucks in a breath and lightly squeezes my hand. All attempts of normal handshakes are clearly forgotten by both of us.
Our connection is broken by two knocks on the bar. The bartender looks at me and my untouched drink. “Need me to change that out for you?” He gives a pointed look to Tony, then my drink.
I give him a genuine smile. “No, thank you. I’m all right. But can you get my new friend here a drink? On me?” The bartender visibly relaxes, knowing I’m no longer in danger.
“Absolutely not. I can buy my own drink, and yours, for the matter. Put her on my tab.” Tony releases my hand, then reaches into his back pocket to grab his wallet. The motion causes his shirt to stretch around his bulging biceps and allows his cologne to reach me. God, is this what a man is supposed to smell like? I feel like my peers are still weening off using Axe body spray.
Focus, girl.
I turn on my sass. “Are you saying that a woman can’t buy a man a drink? It is the twenty-first century, you know.” I fold my arms over my chest and pop a hip out.
Tony tracks the movements as a grin takes over his face. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare say that.” He chuckles. “I just mean that any woman in my presence is always taken care of.”
I raise an eyebrow, fully aware of the innuendo he’s throwing down. “Well, then, how about if, for tonight, you allow me the pleasure of taking care of you,Tony?”
He tilts his head while rubbing his lower lip with this thumb, as if thinking over my offer. The little shit thinks he’s making me sweat.
He turns to the bartender. “You heard the lady. I’m a kept man for the night.” He turns to me with playful eyes. “I’ll have whatever IPA you got.” The bartender nods and grabs a bottle from the mini fridge behind him. He uncaps the beer and slides it over to Tony without either of us breaking eye contact.
We tilt our drinks toward one another. “So what should we toast to?” I ask.
He looks away pensively for a moment, a smile playing on his lips. His eyes return to meet mine when he says, “A night we’ll never forget.”
Antonio
PRESENT
Samaná,Dominican Republic
I think I almost hate-kissed her.
