Page 72 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

“Allie…” Thatcher says. “Be careful. I think you should get out of here. I don’t like this guy.”

“Huh,” I say, ignoring Thatcher. “You know, most studies actually show that women sometimes hold their breath leading up to orgasm, but there’s strong evidence that breathing deeply during orgasm increases the length and strength of your climax. So…if you’re choking your partner, then you might be effectivelystiflingher orgasm.”

Jason runs his tongue across his teeth, but is still smiling. Even though he’s being uncomfortably forward, I’m not finding him threatening. Just…awkward. “Maybe we need to do a little compare and contrast and see?”

“Ready for my secret?” I ask. “Despite there being no bone in the penis, vigorous sex can still result in a penile fracture. It’s not a bone fracture, but it’s actually the rupture of the fibrous covering of the corpora cavernosa. The moment of fracture is usually accompanied by a popping or cracking sound, intense pain, swelling, and unsurprisingly, flaccidity.”

Jason flinches. “What the fuck? That’s not exactly a secret?—”

“Oh, I haven’t gotten to the secret yet,” I say. “My secret isn’t in the fact that you can fracture your penis. It’s how Iknowthat fact.”

Jason’s face drains of color, going pale. “Was it…was it an accident?”

“Oh of course,” I say sarcastically and give him a dramatic wink. Then I lift my glass of wine and drain the last of it before standing and grabbing my purse.

“Wait…you’re leaving?” He stands as well, tossing his napkin down on the seat.

“Ummm, yeah. You seem nice, but choking isn’t my thing. And I think you’re a little too forward for me.”

He recoils slightly, taken aback by my sudden bite. There’s a pause, a breath, a moment of clarity where the night hangs in the balance.

And then, darkness shrouds his eyes and his posture stiffens as he launches forward and grips my elbow, yanking me closer to him. “Are you fucking joking?” he sneers. “Youinvitedmeout to dinner?—”

The air in the room shifts on its axis as Thatcher’s approach is swift and vicious. He crosses the room in seconds flat with a cold, deliberate calm. Beside me, Jason tenses, his previously lax demeanor snapping tight as a drum when Thatcher’s hand wraps around Jason’s shoulder and yanks him off me.

“Thatcher,” I murmur under my breath, not sure whether to be relieved or mortified.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Thatcher says, his brows furrowed ever so slightly, the only visible sign of the protective storm brewing underneath that stoic surface.

The tension between the two men is palpable, wrapping around me like a snake suffocating its prey.

“Looks like your babysitter’s here.Again,” Jason sneers, but his voice holds an edge of caution that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Are you okay?” Thatcher asks me, his voice even, but the hard set of his jaw tells a different story.

I’m oddly relieved to see him, yet the dread of what’scoming hangs heavy in the air. “I’m…”What am I?Nothing about tonight is going how it’s supposed to.

“She’s fine,” Jason retorts. “We’re just getting to know each other better, isn’t that right, Allie?”

“I wasn’t askingyou,” Thatcher bites out, his jaw tight.

The air crackles with tension, Thatcher’s shadow looming over us like a warning. “Allie?” he asks again. Every syllable out of his mouth is controlled, yet laced with an undercurrent of pure potential rage.

“I was just leaving,” I manage to say.

“Cockteasing bitch,” Jason scoffs.

The moment holds its breath. Thatcher’s eyes narrow, the green in them darkening like a forest at dusk. Then, quick as lightning, his fist connects with Jason’s jaw, the sound like a gunshot echoing through the otherwise quiet space.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.

Jason stumbles back, clutching his face, his shock mirroring my own. “What the?—”

“We’re leaving,” Thatcher growls, low and menacing as he pulls a card from his wallet and tosses it at Jason. “Here’s my information in case you decide to press charges. However, I should warn you that this entire restaurant saw you grab a woman’s arm, not allowing her to leave when she wanted to.”

We turn and walk briskly for the door, leaving Jason behind us, rubbing his reddening jaw. I steal one last glance at him over my shoulder where he shoots me a bewildered look before skulking away, shoulders hunched and ego bruised more than his face.

I whip around, the soles of my shoes slapping angrily against the pavement as I storm away from Thatcher toward where my car is parked.

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