CHAPTER 17
AVRIL
The latest datewas going horribly wrong—which at this point wasn’t even surprising to me anymore. But a sinking feeling bloomed in the pit of my stomach as my latest date—Tyler—started dramatically patting his pockets as soon as the check hit the table.
“Shit, I think I left my wallet at home. But you got me this time, Babe? I’ll make sure to cover the bill next time.”
Forget the fact that Tyler had ordered at least fifty dollars worth of alcohol and a massive steak, when I’d only had one drink and my salad… there was zero chance that I would go on a second date with him. There was no way that I was going to sit there and listen to him talk about how great Tyler was for another hour and a half. Once was more than enough. “We can just split the bill. You can Venmo me for your portion.”
“You don’t think that you should ever have to pay the bill?” Tyler scoffed. He leaned back against the booth, giving me the perfect view of his tight jeans and fitted button-down shirt. As he ran his fingers through his over-gelled hair, his fancy watch peeked out from his sleeve—if my guess was right, that watch cost more than ten times the price of our meal. “I thought you said that you were a feminist.”
“How does havingmepay foryourdinner have anything to do with feminism?” I tried to hold back the annoyance, but really this was just too much.
I’d rather unblock Dylan and read all of his half-assed apologies if I wanted male attention that was thispathetic.
“Alright, if things are equal between us, you said that you wanted an equal partner, right? Then tell me. What do you even bring to the table? If you are saying that you aren’t even willing to pay for one meal for me, what could you do for me as my future girlfriend?” Tyler smirked at me, sizing me up with his eyes.
What was with all these men and asking dates about theoretical tables?
There was something nasty about the way he was leering at me… as if he were anticipating sexual favors from me, all in return for paying for his own meal. Was I really getting this right?
The bar wasn’t on the floor. Somehow it had sunk beneath the floorboards and jammed itself into a sewage pipe, because everything about this situation smelled like rotten ass.
I should probably just let this go…
But the weight of all the disappointing dates was weighing me down—until it was too much. I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.
“If you’re broke, you can just say that.” I muttered as I pulled a debit card out of my sequined wallet. Tossing the card on top of the bill, I was about ready to chalk the whole night up to a loss. Mentally, I’d categorized where all my stuff was, so I’d be ready to bolt ASAP.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Tyler snarled.
Oh, shit.
How did I not notice that Tyler was the kind of guy to totally lose his shit? Had I just been skipping along through a field of red flags, totally oblivious? Again?
But then, Tyler leaned closer across the table, getting right in my face. “Listen here, you little bitch—”
Whatever he expected me to listen to was abruptly cut off when a muscular arm grabbed Tyler by his tight collar, wrenching him away from me.
Oh,damn.
David pulled Tyler in close. “I really don’t like little boys who try to make themselves feel like men by putting women down.”
David’s face was calm, but his aura gave him away, a wave of dominant alpha energy bristled in the air like a dagger itching to be thrown.
David dragged Tyler out of the booth by his collar and threw him toward the front entrance.
Tyler sputtered. Something along the lines of ‘the customer is always right’was hovering on the tip of his tongue. But even someone as dense as Tyler could see the murder in David’s eyes, and he kept his silence.
With a loud click, a flash of light burst across Tyler’s face as David snapped a Polaroid. He pulled out the picture, with Tyler’s shocked face plastered across it. David waved it as if to dry it off. “You are officially banned from the premises. This establishment is only for paying customers.”
Tyler’s jaw dropped all the way to the floor. He immediately reached into his pockets, pulling out a wallet—oh look at that, where did that come from—pushing a card into David’s hands. “What? I can pay. You can’t just ban me.”
Without a word, David took Tyler’s card, walked over to the register and rang up the cost of the meal. He shoved the card back in Tyler’s hand, like the plastic had burned him.
“I don’t want to see your face in here again.” David’s words were quiet, promising violence with every syllable.
Tyler’s face darkened. He opened his mouth as if he were about to argue… before he caught a glimpse of the rage brimming just under the surface of David’s stoic expression. Tyler snatched his card back and stormed out without another word.
