Page 71 of The Rescue

His head cocks to the side and he squints at me with a confused but smiley face.

“Friend? I don’t think friends do what we did last night, and sleep in the same bed,” he wiggles his eyebrow at me.

The look on my face must be something because Rabbie bursts into hysterics. He steps even closer to me now, I can feel the heat radiating off him or is it me?

“Don’t worry, Miss Noncommittal it’s a joke,” he winks at me.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” I huff, trying to act annoyed at him but it’s impossible when he’s smiling at me. His messy blonde hair and perfect smile are too distracting.

“Jokes aside, thank you. It’s nice to know I have so many people who love and support me. It doesn’t come across as overprotective to me, but yes, I can handle it. I’m a big boy,” he smirks as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

My breath catches in my throat as his fingers brush my neck.Big boy.Fuck, why is he so good at making me crave him in all the delicious ways?

“Come on, let’s go enjoy a dram of whisky,” he grabs my jacket from the hook near the door and holds it open for me. I slip my arms in and he spins me around and tugs it tight over my shoulders. He dips his head slowly and softly kisses me, the tenderness of his kiss makes the world disappear and for a second I forget where we are. He breaks the kiss, and smirks, probably at my dumbstruck face. I must look like some loved up fool. He grabs his jacket, and swings it over his head, how has he become the smooth one? I’m a bumbling mess. Rabbie has seeped his way into every part of my body, just being around him makes me on high alert, all my senses are heightened.

I eagerly follow him outside, in desperate need for some fresh air after that intense, skin melting kiss, and weirdly hot conversation. As we make our way to The Drunken Duck, I’m overthinking about how I should act around Rabbie and the group. I meant to talk to him about it in the kitchen, but then he distracted me. He has a habit of doing that.

Surely he wants to keep things on the down low, or is that me? I’m so wrapped up in this mental battle that I don’t realise Rabbie opening the door to the pub. He grabs my hand and leads me inside. Holding his hand makes me freak out even more, what are people going to think? Will they think that I sleep with all my clients?

We’re standing in the vestibule, one of his hands lingers on the main door to the pub and one hand is still holding mine. He looks back at me, and his eyes float down to our hands. He really can read my face, because he gives me a reassuring smile as he opens the door.

Fuck, what people think Crystal? Stop overthinking it.

The lively pub quietens as we enter the pub holding hands. A lot of people are subtle about gawking over at us as we make our way over to the bar. I’m internally freaking out. I want to bolt and run, but I doubt I’d be able to get anywhere with my small hand in Rabbie’s iron grip. Rabbie orders two drams of whisky with Mac still holding my hand. He doesn’t let go once, not even when he pays him. He hands me my glass, as he takes his. He leads me through the table towards the fire where the group are sitting at their usual table.

I scan the room as we approach the table and find that people aren’t looking on in scrutiny, they’re looking over with smiles on their faces. A few people even tip their glasses to Rabbie as he nods at their smiles. I’m perplexed by this, because I was expecting people to be judgemental of me, and protective of their precious Rabbie.

As we approach the table, Dylan is wearing a look of smug satisfaction, whilst the others’ mouths are agape in shock. Rabbie can’t help but laugh at his three best friend’s reactions.

“Close your mouths, we’re just holding hands,” he winks at me as he helps me step over the bench to sit down.

He’s such a gentleman, always making me food, or holding the door open for me. The men back in Boston have nothing on Rabbie, and I’ve been filling the empty void in my heart for so many years with meaningless dates and one night stands to prove a stupid point. Rabbie is quickly showing me that not all relationships are dysfunctional like my parents’. He’s broken the mould of his parent’s too, they didn’t want him and that would fill any normal person with so much bitterness and hatred, but Rabbie doesn’t let that define who he is, and it’s amazing to see how tender and genuine he is as an adult.

We take a seat at the table, and I can’t steady my nerves. I take a large sip of my whisky as I meet the eyes of the group. I never used to care for the approval of peers, but their approval Icare about. Dylan still has a smug grin on her face, the look of “I told you so” is so blatantly obvious.

“W–w–when did this happen?” Hamish asks with a large smile.

I clam up because I have no idea what to say, but Rabbie swoops in and answers for us.

“This hasn’t happened,” he gestures between us.

Disappointment spreads over me, and I’m a little confused.

“Yet,” he finally smiles at me.

His hand is resting on my bare leg underneath the table, and he gently squeezes my thigh. A shot of electricity shoots through me, and I try my hardest not to jump out of my seat.

“I have so many questions,” Fiona says giddily.

“Then ask them, and we’ll try to answer them,” Rabbie takes the lead again.

How can he be so calm and open, I’m internally a mess. Rabbie and I haven’t even had a whisper of a conversation regarding this stuff. What if I say something that he doesn’t want to hear or vice versa?

“Like, does this mean you’re in a relationship?” Fiona squeaks.

I nearly choke on my whisky as she asks the question mid sip.

Rabbie laughs and taps my thigh. He called me Miss Noncommittal back at the cafe, and he knows my stance on relationships. I really don’t want to answer that question in front of everyone when in truth I don’t know if I still have the same views on being single forever.

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