He side-eyed the man next to him. You know, maybe.

The man snorted. “Yeah, and I’m a god.”

“Ah-ha! So you admit it!”

The guy scrunched his nose in confusion. (It was stupidly adorable.) “What?”

Micah willed away a blush. “I… nothing.” He took a deep breath, slapping back down the menu. “Look, thanks for all this, really. But you don’t have to worry about me. And to be honest, I have things to do so if you just want to scooch over…” He lifted his hands, making the universal sign for him to scoot.

The man only raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, illegal things.”

Pretend illegal things, Micah corrected mentally, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on that when the man kept talking.

“Look, the way I see it, you have two options,” he said sternly, turning so he was practically looming over Micah. “The first is you sit back and enjoy the meal I’m about to buy you. The second is you go back out on the streets.” He took a breath. “But know this, if you choose option two, I’m going to follow you. And I’m going to chase off every potential john that even sniffs in your direction.”

Micah knew his eyes were blown wide by the time the man had finished his tirade. “You can’t do that!” he protested. So much for catching their perp. “Why would you-?!”

The man folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry. Did you miss it when that guy out there tried to rape you?”

It sent a shock of ice through Micah’s veins the way he put it so plainly. He pressed his lips together. “I had it under control,” he muttered.

The man’s incredulous expression made it clear what he thought of that. “Maybe we should just skip all the way to option three instead and I call the cops – tell them I found a minor solicitating outside of my restaurant.”

Too late for that, Micah thought, perhaps a tad hysterically. Also-

“This is your restaurant?” he demanded incredulously. The man couldn’t have been much older than thirty. How could he own a restaurant?

He waved a hand. “I’m an investor,” he said, like it was no big deal. “Regardless, the point stands. So, what’s it going to be?”

Micah supposed there were worse things than eating supper with an absolute bombshell of a man. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could even pretend this was a real date and not a pity meal from a stranger who thought he was an underaged prostitute.

“Don’t you dare,” Tessa hissed in his ear, but Micah had no idea what she was forbidding him to do. He figured the best plan of action would be to sit with the guy, let him order him something to eat, and then duck out of there as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

The man must have been able to see the resignation on Micah’s face because he released what sounded like a relieved sigh before calling a waitress over. A pretty Hispanic woman with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes began making her way over to them. Her eyes widened, however, when they took in the man currently holding him hostage.