“Whoa there, honey,” the man said, eyeing her like he wanted to find out how many licks it took to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
Devon glared at the man, and he smirked.
“You lookin’ for a place to sit? I’ve got a place right here,” he said, patting his lap. His friends roared with laughter while the guy just continued to look her up and down.
“No, thanks,” she said and turned.
The man reached out and grabbed her arm, and Devon froze.
“Where you think you’re goin’, baby?”
This wasn’t good. Devon could tell what would happen next. This guy was already belligerently drunk even if it was early in the evening. The room was dark, and no one was going to interfere. It felt just like one of her dreams.
Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! she yelled in her head.
But she wasn’t waking up, and usually by this point, she was in that stupid bedroom with that stupid white bed, face-planting into the stupid soft comforter.
The guy was just holding her arm. However sinister he appeared, this was not like her dream. This was reality, and she had to face it.
Devon tried breathing in and out to keep from hyperventilating as she turned back toward the guy. “Let me go,” she said softer than she would have liked.
“Oh, come on,” he said, tugging her closer to him.
“Is there a problem?” Brennan asked, materializing out of thin air.
Devon released her breath as the guy loosened his grip on her arm.
“No concern of yours,” the guy said.
“Mind letting my friend go, so we can get to our seats?” Brennan asked, raising his eyebrows.
The guy carelessly flung her arm back at her, and Devon immediately took a step away from him. She massaged her arm where he had gripped her. Her mind was racing.
That terrible voice from her dream spoke into her mind then. “You thought you were safe, but you’ll never be safe.”
“Come on, Devon.” Brennan ushered her in front of him without pulling his gaze away from the guy.
She could tell Brennan didn’t trust the guy not to swing on him or worse.
Devon had been approached by these kinds of guys before, and they were all the same. She tried to push the incident aside, but it kept creeping up on her. Was she a walking target for these idiots? Did people just find it funny to mess with her? She must have looked as bad as she felt because Brennan pulled her up short.
“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.
She wondered how many times he had asked her that question and how many times she had denied anything was wrong. It had been at least a dozen times a week since they had started working together.
This time, she didn’t have to pretend. She wasn’t okay. The guy who had grabbed her was two or three times her size. He could have easily overpowered her, and he knew it. She had seen the flash in eyes that said he had all the power. He was reveling in her helplessness, and that was scariest of all.
“No,” she finally said, shaking her head. “I don’t particularly like being manhandled.”
“I don’t think many people do,” he said.
When a group walked past them, Brennan placed his hand on the small of her back, moving her to the side. Her body warmed at his touch, and she tried to push aside her growing attraction to him. She had spent too much time with him at work, and she didn’t need this right now.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” she said softly.
“Thanks for answering my question,” he replied with a smile unlike any she had ever seen from him.
Her cheeks heated, and she looked away.
“And for coming to my gig.”
She cleared her throat. “You’ve been telling me about it for weeks. How could I miss it?”
“You’re sneaky. I thought you would find a way.”
“I’m not sneaky,” she said defensively.
“You’re proving me wrong,” he said, nudging her forward. “Amy and Hannah are over here. We couldn’t get anyone else out of work.”
“Sounds good.”
“Do you know if Hadley and Garrett are going to show?” he asked, glancing at her apprehensively.
“I think so. Garrett told me they planned to,” she told him, wondering if she had said too much.
“Still not really talking to Hadley?” he asked intuitively.
Yep, she had said too much.
“Oh look, I see Amy,” Devon said, ducking out from under his arm.
“About you answering questions,” Brennan muttered as he followed her.
Amy and Hannah seemed to be deep in discussion about something when Brennan and Devon walked up, but the women welcomed them to the table. Devon took a seat next to Amy, and Brennan sat next to Devon. She didn’t know when Hadley and Garrett would show up, so she was left with just Brennan’s company.
When she realized Amy and Hannah were going to continue ignoring her, Devon turned to Brennan. “So, what are you singing tonight?”
“I’ve opted for originals.”
“You write your own lyrics?” she asked, surprised.
He hadn’t mentioned that part. It made her want to pull out her notebook. With how busy she had been, she hadn’t had a chance to open it recently. It made her heart hurt to think about the last time she had written anything. Lyrics had always come so naturally to her. It was likely due to her parents’ profession even if she didn’t like to admit it. She still carried the notebook everywhere with her, but writing had fallen to the wayside since she had taken the job at Jenn’s.
Brennan shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Some. They’re not great, but I’ve been particularly inspired recently.”
“That’s good,” she said, finding she actually wanted to contribute to this conversation. “I like when I feel like that…most of the time.”
“Me, too,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes.
“Sometimes, it’s like ripping my heart out and writing with the blood.” She clutched her chest.
“Sometimes, it’s like that,” he agreed. “And other times, it’s like the sun only shines for you, every breath of oxygen was designed for you to breathe, and life has a new purpose.”
Devon swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Sometimes, it’s like that, too.”
“But I like either as long as someone feels the music.”