Page 18 of With Us

“You mean you don’t want to watch a bougie baguette?” I laughed. “I like comedies.”

“How was your steak?” Theo asked.

Since my mouth was full of my final bite of said steak, I nodded and gave him a thumbs up, which got me another deep chuckle. I washed it down with the last of my cocktail. “It was delicious, thank you. How was yours?”

Meeting my gaze, he paused and held eye contact for a moment before answering, his voice low and smooth, “Perfect.”

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, their frantic pace matching the beat of my heart. I forgot to be shy and intimidated by how mismatched we were. I even forgot about how insanely underdressed I was.

Instead, I focused on enjoying our date.

And Theo.

???

“C’mon, baby. Don’t pretend you can’t hear us.” The jerk sitting next to me inched closer, his annoying buddy laughing like a hyena behind us. His breath smelled like beer, but weak stuff. He wasn’t drunk, although he’d likely use alcohol as an excuse.

He was just an aggressive asshole.

Where Theo exuded class in a natural way because it was who he was, everything about this guy was forced. The ostentatious watch, the expensive labeled shirt, and the perfectly styled haircut all screamed he was trying too hard.

I kept my ear buds in, pretending not to hear their vulgar whispered conversation. I’d learned early on to not even bother interacting. At only a couple inches above five feet, I wasn’t exactly a menacing figure. Even my harshest of glares seemed to come across as amusing rather than fear inducing.

If I didn’t respond, most people got bored. I’d get called all sorts of names as they walked away, but them leaving was the important part.

These guys didn’t seem to be getting bored. In fact, my lack of reaction seemed to spur them on, their words becoming harsher. Annoyance quickly devolved into malice.

I brought up a news page on my phone and pretended to read, all while keeping a firm grip on my purse. A purse which happened to have mace in an easily accessible front pocket. I didn’t want to spray it in the train, but I wouldn’t hesitate if they followed me off.

It’d happened before, though thankfully it was very rare. I’d never had to actually mace anyone, the threat of it was enough to have them heading in the opposite direction.

My stomach lurched and a shiver went down my spine when I saw the news story was about a recent mugging on the other side of the city. While it was a fairly common occurrence, it wasn’t what I wanted to read about. Especially right then.

“It’s rude to not respond when people are talking to you,” the creep next to me snapped.

“Yeah,” hyena boy agreed. “We’re just trying to give you what you obviously need. We’ll loosen you up.” His high-pitched laugh made me grit my teeth.

“For a poor bitch, you sure are uppity. Someone needs to teach you your place.” The back of his hand grazed my chest as he grabbed my earbud cord and tugged them out. “I said—”

I turned to go off on him, only to find the chair empty. So quick I wasn’t even sure if I was seeing it correctly, the jerk was up and practically flying across the aisle. Slamming into the seats on the opposite side, he slid to the floor.

I shifted in my seat to see hyena boy jump up and open his mouth. His eyes widened before he backed away and rushed to help his friend up. The doors slid open a minute later, and they hurried out. I’d overheard them talking enough to know they weren’t close to their stop.

When I looked up, I was shocked to see the older man with graying red hair that I’d seen earlier in the night. He’d easily lifted andtosseda man half his age, all without rumpling his suit.

“Thank you,” I said as he looked me over. It was a clinical scan, nothing sexual or even warm about it.

“Didn’t want you to mace us all out of here,” he said, dipping his head to my lap.

I glanced down to see the canister clutched firmly in my fist. I hadn’t even realized I’d pulled it out. “Oh. Yeah, uh, that wouldn’t have been good.” I returned the spray to my purse. “Still, thank you for getting rid of them. Now I feel bad about not rescuing you from the brunette earlier.”

His face remained blank. “What?”

“Uh, we were on the same train earlier,” I explained. “A drunk brunette was chatting your ear off.”

Yeah, that doesn’t make you sound like a whackadoo stalker. Good job, Dahlia.

“I didn’t notice,” the man said.

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