Page 16 of Riding the Pine

I drum my fingernails on the table and lick my top teeth, my breath catching in a hiss. “No is a complete sentence.” My voice is calm, steady, and loud enough to be heard by both these douche canoes. “Leave us alone, or I’m going to escort you both out of our space.”

They share an uncertain look, but Asshole two doubles down and has the au-fucking-dacity to drape his left arm around the back of my chair like he’s known me my whole goddamn life. He curls his arm around my shoulder and pulls me toward him like he somehow has a claim to any part of my person. His fingers creep closer to my boob.

Are you kidding me?

My eyes meet the blonde woman’s, and her brows shoot up. She’s thinking the same thing.

Then this motherfucker flexes his hand. He fucking flexes those digits.

I think the fuck not.

I grab his middle finger with my right hand, the one not pinned by his grimy mitts touching my fucking body and bend it backward.

We leap off the chairs at the same time, but I don’t let go of his digit. He howls, his face contorted in a twist of shock and pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” My voice is a sneer, and I now don’t give a flying fuck who may be witnessing this exchange. “Did your finger get stuck in my hand on your way to copping a feel of my tits?”

He’s hissing through his teeth like he’s somehow in control of making the pain go away, so I tug a little harder to remind him who’s the one in control of this situation of his making.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Ow. Ow. Let go. Let go you PsychoBitchLetGoOfMyFinger!”

His words all run together as I twist and bend his hand back even further.

“Forget your manners?” My sickly-sweet smile is back as he fights without a chance of breaking free of my death grip. I haven’t started self-defense classes yet but they’re on my to-do list. It was the only way I could convince my brother’s I’d be fine beingacross the townby myself without their big, brooding hockey-player selves throwing their weight around at anyone who looks sideways at me.

“Self-defense lessons, non-negotiable.” Apollo wagged his finger in my face while Artemis smoldered and huffed ten feet away, glaring at me from under his furrowed brow.

I’ve got this guy by the finger, and oh-my-God, is he? Yup, he’s crying real tears.

“Are you sorry?” I tug his finger.

He nods.

“Are you going to fuck all the way off and leave us alone?”

Another nod.

I cast a hard glare at his buddy, he’s nodding his agreement too.

“If I ever see or hear about either of you pulling this crap again, I’ll rip off your nuts and toast them over an open fire. Are we clear?”

More silent nodding. I release the guy’s finger and for a moment it seems like he’s contemplating squaring up to me, but Taryn appears with our drinks and my quiche.

When the boys turn to leave, it’s my turn to say “Ah, ah, ah.” I hold out my hand. “My dude, you owe my girl here that Jackson in your pocket.”

Both men at least have the decency to blush. Asshole two, still rubbing his finger, shakes his head and strides away from us muttering about how insane I am, while Asshole one hands over his wrinkled twenty-dollar bill to my now thoroughly confused and probably more than a little bit scared, potential friend.

When the bell over the door signals their departure and Taryn’s left us with the drinks and my snack, I turn my attention to the blonde whose eyes are now burning a hole in my cheek from staring at me.

“Athena.” I hold out my hand to her. “Freshman.” I give her a hopeful smile, but somewhere in the pit of my stomach I’m afraid I’ve potentially scared away my first prospective best friend candidate.

Her eyes meet mine with warmth as she accepts and shakes my hand in return. “Savannah. Also a freshman.”

Relief that I’ve found another out-of-water newbie-fish courses through me as I hold her hand for a beat longer than is likely deemed acceptable. “Put me out of my misery, are you straight?”

She laughs, that gorgeous stain blooming in her cheeks as she holds up her hands. “Guilty as charged.”

“Okay, fine. I suppose I won’t hold that against you, but if you change your mind and decide you want to dip your toe.” I point to myself. “I’m first in line, okay?”

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