Page 125 of The Love Haters

Cole dropped to the floor. And as soon as he did, the old man started kicking him.

That’s when Hutch turned to me. “Stay back,” he said.

Uh—no argument there.

Hutch moved toward them, Cole now doubled over on the bar floor and coughing. Everything I’d ever seen in any movie primed me to expect that Hutch was about to beat the crap out of this old man. But, instead, to my astonishment, Hutch moved in and grabbed him from behind, clamping him into a position that looked remarkably like the cross-chest carry he used in the water.

So versatile.

I guess the only difference was that he used his swimming arm to subdue the old man’s punching arm by bending it behind him.

Then, into the old man’s ear, Hutch said, matter-of-factly, “We’re not going to do this, sir.”

The man seemed baffled to be so immobilized so suddenly. “We’re not?”

“Everybody’s been drinking, and everybody’s looking for a fight. But that’s not who we’re going to be tonight.” The bartender had come over to investigate the commotion, and Hutch met his eyes as if giving instructions, as he went on. “We’re going tocall a taxi”—at that, the bartender gave a nod—“and we’re going to go home peacefully.”

“But who’s kissing the girl?” the old guy protested.

“No oneis kissing the girl,” Hutch said, with surprising force.

“Someone should get to kiss her.”

At that, Hutch jacked the man’s arm up a little tighter. “That’s her decision, and her decision only,” Hutch said. Then, like a pain-based PSA, he threw in: “Just the way it is for all the women in our lives.” Hutch gave it a second and then said, “And that’s the end of that.”

BY THE TIMEHutch had loaded the man into his taxi, the bartender and I had dragged a very drunk, and now injured, Cole out front.

Hutch and I roped Cole’s arms over our shoulders to walk him back toward the Starlite. Hutch took a minute, once we had Cole in position, to close his eyes and steady himself, and I wondered if he mightseemmore sober than he really was.

“What were you thinking, doing a drinking contest?” I asked Hutch as we walked.

“I was rescuing you,” Hutch said. “Did youwantto kiss a random old man in a sleazy bar?”

“That was never going to happen.”

“Also, Cole really wanted me to.”

That was a better reason. “You’re a good brother.”

Hutch shook his head. “I’m trying.”

“He doesn’t make it easy.”

A wry headshake from Hutch. “He does not.”

“How did youwin?” I asked.

Hutch didn’t seem sure himself. “Sheer force of will?”

“You didn’t have to do this. I was fine.”

“You were less fine than you think. Those dudes were ogling you the whole time.”

“I’m not the kind of woman who gets ogled.”

“Beg to differ.”

“I think I’d know.”

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