Page 71 of Let It Breathe
Patrick frowned and glanced around, clearly hoping a waitress would materialize so Clay wouldn’t have to venture into the danger zone.
Clay smiled and clapped his sponsor on the shoulder as he stood. “Tell you what,” he said. “If you see me guzzling straight from the beer taps, you can come rescue me.”
Patrick grinned. “Deal.”
Clay maneuvered through the maze of tables into the bar. The music was louder, and the smell of beer made the back of his tongue feel itchy. Clay ignored it. He leaned forward on the bar, trying to catch the eye of the guy slinging drinks.
“Stop touching me!” shrieked a female voice at the other end of the bar.
Clay squinted that direction. He couldn’t see through the maze of bodies and the curve in the bar, but the voice sounded familiar. Larissa?
“Stop it!” she yelled again. “I said no.”
A dark figure at the end of the bar blocked his view—broad shoulders draped in black leather, dark hair hanging forward to conceal any view Clay might’ve had of the woman who’d yelled. Clay glanced around, wondering why no one else was concerned. Most of the other patrons seemed numb with beer and loud noise. Clay looked back at the other end of the bar.
“C’mon, baby,” the guy growled. “I just want a piece of that sweet ass.”
“I mean it, Derek. Knock it off.”
This time, Clay was certain it was Larissa. The guy’s next words confirmed it.
“Aw, ’Rissy—you’ve been giving off vibes all night long. What’s a little?—”
“Pardon me, is there a problem?”
Clay wasn’t sure how he wound up at the other end of the bar, but suddenly, there he was. Side by side with Larissa, nose to nose with her date.
The shaggy-haired guy stared him down, none too pleased by the intrusion. Clay didn’t blink.
“We’re just talking,” the guy said. “Just a friendly conversation, that’s all.”
“Funny, it didn’t sound too friendly to me,” Clay said, trying to keep his voice light. He stole a glance at Larissa, who looked dazed and a little rumpled.
“Dude, stay out of it,” the guy warned.
The smell of beer on his breath practically gave him a contact buzz, but Clay didn’t step back. Larissa blinked at him and swayed a little on her feet.
“Maybe you missed that day in high school health class where they explained how no means no,” Clay said slowly. “That sounded like a pretty clear no to me.”
The guy snorted. “No never means no with this one.”
Clay looked at Larissa again. “’Riss?”
She swayed a little, blinking through smeared eye makeup, and reached out for the edge of the bar to steady herself. “Hi, Clay.”
“Want me to get you home?” Clay asked.
Larissa opened her mouth to say something, but her date cut her off by snaking an arm around her shoulders. “Back the fuck off, okay? I don’t need your help.”
“You may not,” Clay said, “but she seems to. Come on, man. Just let her go and we’ll get out of here. No hard feelings, no trouble.”
Larissa tried to shrug off the guy’s arm, but he gripped her tighter. Behind them, the bartender spoke. “There a problem here, guys?”
“No!” snapped the other guy. “It’s a personal matter, between me and this douchebag.”
Clay gritted his teeth, his eyes on Larissa. He was fighting hard to keep his composure, not to lose his temper the way he might have a few years ago.
The way he had the night Reese got hurt.
