Page 52 of Gone With the Wine

Mark blinks at him.

“Let her go,” Jansen repeats, his voice low and menacing.

If this is what he looked like to his opponents on the ice, I bet the other teams were scared spitless of him.

When Mark still doesn’t move, Jansen grabs Mark’s hand on my throat and forces it away, then pries his other arm away from me so I’m free. My blood is pumping fast, my breathing flimsy.

“Hey,” Mark says loudly, standing. “Back off, bud.”

“No.” Jansen’s voice is flinty. “You back off.” With both hands on Mark’s chest, he shoves him.

Mark stumbles a step backward and hits the wall. “Hey! What the fuck?”

I cringe at his raised voice and become excruciatingly aware of others in the bar watching us. It’s happy hour and the place is nearly full. My skin prickles with heat and I wonder if this would be a good time to fling myself through the window.

“The lady said to let her go. You didn’t let her go.”

“It’s okay, Jansen,” I say. “All good.”

He turns his hard gaze on me and his tone softens a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” I shoot Mark a disgusted look, then lay cool eyes on Jansen. “I could have handled this,” I say in a low, terse tone. “There was no need to make a scene.”

He rolls his right shoulder reflexively. “Uh. Sorry. I thought you needed help.”

My mouth falls open. “What? Good lord.” I exhale sharply. Who does he think he is? “I’m done here.”

In the morning,I feel stupid for having gone out with Mark. Millie and Ana said he was single again, like he was a potential partner. Why didn’t they tell me he has…issues?

Nah, not their fault. Men!

Then Jansen got involved. I was embarrassed. And pissed. Also…a little impressed.

I didn’t need Jansen to intervene. I could have handled Mark. He was so drunk I’m sure I could have knocked him off his stool if I poked him in the chest with one finger. What in the blueberry fuck muffins did he think he was doing?

I go downstairs and find Rosa and Jake in the kitchen, sitting at the big table eating cereal, steam probably coming out of my ears.

Rosa looks up from her phone. “What the hell happened last night?”

I gaze back at her. “Um…what do you mean?”

“At the Cougar. Apparently there was a big brawl.”

“Oh, for fox sake.” I shake my head, frowning, and move to the fridge to get my overnight oats. “Not a brawl. Just a little…situation.”

“That’s not what everyone’s saying on the town Facebook page. They’re saying Jansen got in a knock down fight with Mark Overton. Some guys jumped to help Mark and then Miles and Nolan had to defend Jansen. Lots of broken glasses and there may have been blood.”

“What!” I turn and gape at her. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Because of you,” she adds with a repressed smile.

“I was there, yes. And Mark drank too much and got all handsy and gross and I told him to back off and then he grabbed me and—” I stop short. Do I want to mention Jansen’s misguided rescue attempt?

“And Jansen punched him in the face!”

Okay, never mind, it’s already out. “No, he didn’t!” I pause. “He shoved him, but that was it. Then I left.”

“So the brawl happened after you left.”

---