“This seems . . . loud,” he said, and although I had to read his lips to understand him, I swore I could hear the bewilderment in his voice, as if “loud” and “bar” were not words he expected to go together. Other words that didn’t go together? Gabriel and alcohol. Gabriel and socializing. Two more I suspected didn’t fit? Gabriel and bars.

“This isn’t what I had in mind,” he said.

“It’s fine.”

As we walked in, I realized this was what I needed—not the alcohol but the bar itself. The anonymity and the darkness and the loud music that saved me from having to talk.

I ordered Scotch, neat. Gabriel got a coffee. And that was the capper on my evening. Gabriel sees alcohol as a crutch. He knows that’s why I don’t like to drink in front of him. So if I have one, so does he, even if he doesn’t finish it. Tonight he brought me to a bar, his idea, after I refused twice, and now he was going to drink a goddamn coffee while—

Fuck it. Just fuck it. Let him have his coffee. Let him judge me. I downed my drink and then ordered another, and didn’t even glance Gabriel’s way. Between drinks, I texted Ricky to let him know everything was fine. He replied that he wanted to talk. I told him I’d call before bed.

I was halfway through my second drink when Gabriel apparently got bored. One minute he was staring at nothing in particular and the next he was on his feet, three paces away before he remembered he wasn’t alone. He turned and motioned that he was stepping away. I thought he was heading to the restroom. Instead, he went outside, maybe for fresh air, maybe as a hint for me to drink faster. Didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Gabriel had been gone about five minutes when a guy waltzed over and swung into his seat.

“Taken,” I said, motioning at the empty coffee cup.

He picked up Gabriel’s mug and set it on the next table. “Not now.”

I looked around, assuring myself that there was, indeed, no shortage of young, attractive women who looked a whole lot more welcoming than I did.

He leaned across the table. “I was walking to the bar, saw you sitting here, and couldn’t believe this seat was actually empty.”

“Because it wasn’t five minutes ago.”

“Then I got a good look at you, and I figured it out.” A big flash of glowingly white teeth. “I’m guessing there aren’t many guys with the balls to sit in this chair, considering who you are.”

I looked at him, blank-faced. Then I stood. He grabbed my wrist, pinning it to the table, gripping it so tight I winced. I was about to yank my arm away when a hand grasped his fingers and peeled them off.