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“Just forget I said anything,” he grumbles, his attention sliding back to the bartender taking care of another customer.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “Owen, come on. What’s your problem? I thought we got everything off our chest the other day.”

“I don’t have a problem. It was a slip of the tongue.”

Normally he’s better at bullshitting. “Yeah, sure it was.” I scoff, forgetting my patience for a moment.

He runs a hand through his blond hair exasperatedly. “We don’t need to talk about it—seriously, Sebastian. Go back to the girls.”

“Dude—”

Owen finally turns his whole body to look at me. “Go back to the table. I have nothing to say.”

Fine, if he doesn’t have anything to say, then neither do I. I don’t know what crawled up his ass, but I don’t want to make it any worse since that’s clearly all I’m doing. I shake my head as Owen looks away again, leaving him be to return to the girls.

My jaw tightens as I catch sight of the men occupying the open seats at our table. Blake is sitting on the edge of her seat as the guy next to her leans in, and Thalia is looking at the man next to her in disgust.

Oh shit.

I sidestep another patron on their way to the bar, but I don’t like the look of this at all. I’m a table away when the man next to Thalia makes the mistake of wrapping his arm around Thalia’s shoulders, and she promptly slams her fist into his nose.

“—ucking touch me!” she yells, and Blake slides out of her seat, looking relieved to see me so near as the other man moves to be closer to her again.

“She’s married, and if she wasn’t, she’s clearly not fucking interested,” I interrupt, fighting every urge in me that wants to throw hands immediately. He immediately backs away from her—which is probably a smart decision considering I could crush him like a bug without breaking asweat. “Blake, you okay?” I check as the man next to Thalia holds his nose.

“I’m fine,” Blake says, moving closer to Thalia, who is shaking out her hand.

“Does this bitch belong to you too? She’s fucking nuts, man.” The guy next to Thalia scoffs, and I nearly see red.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t belong to anyone, and you’re damn right, I am fucking nuts!” Thalia seethes as Blake pulls her back, grabbing her arm to prevent her from swinging at him again.

I’m not going to hit them. I’m not going to hit them. I’m not going to hi—

“Cockteases,” the guy who had taken Owen’s seat mumbles.

My entire body coils, ready to explode. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice deathly calm.

“I mean, just look at them,” he motions pathetically. “They’re both dressed like they’re in desperate need of a good lay.”

Despite having been punched already, the other guy decides to open his mouth again as he looks at Thalia. “I bet you’re a wild fuck.”

I grab him by the front of his shirt, his face paling as I lower my voice further. “You’re both pieces of shit. Regardless of how a woman is dressed, it doesn’t give you an invitation to touch them when they’re very clearly telling you no. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind about kicking your asses.” I’m barely holding onto the last thread of my restraint as I shove him away from me. He stumbles dramatically, clearly having had plenty to drink since I didn’t push him that rough.

I brush past the other to get to the girls, making eye contact with Thalia as the mouthy one grabs my shoulder, yanking me back. The thread of restraint I had been clinging to snaps as I turn, throwing my fist straight into his face. If Thalia hadn’t broken his nose with her punch, it’s definitely broken now.

He howls in pain, his friend eyeing me nervously now as he bumps straight into Owen, finally gracing us with his presence from the bar. “What the fuck?” Owen asks, as the guy attempts to swing at Owen.

I’m distracted by Owen dodging the hit, landing a solid one of his own, as the other guy recovers faster than I anticipated, my jaw taking the impact of a lucky hit. I swear under my breath, knocking him flat on his ass this time.

“Bash, stop, we’re fine!” Thalia says behind me, pulling on my arm. I exhale sharply, tearing my attention from the asshole in front of me to look at Thalia, needing proof that she is fine. She looks small in front of me despite the fury raging in her eyes at the mark surely on my jaw, but my anger doesn’t settle. Lia isn’t wearing anything inviting to anyone other than me, considering it’s my jersey she’s wearing; it’s bullshit to blame their ignorance on them. “I’m fine,” she echoes, and my heart rate finally starts to slow.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot officers breaking through the crowd, and I wonder how pissed my agent is going to be that I got into a bar fight. At least I can argue that I didn’t start this fight to make it look better.

“Officers, the—” I start to say as one stops in front of me, but my voice falters when he pulls his handcuffs out of his belt to tell me that I’m under arrest.

Fuck me.

~

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