He nods and says thank you as I stand up to take our empties to the bar. I ask the bartender for two more pints and check my phone, smiling to myself. It’s a wonder how seamlessly I shifted from sad to happy in Callum’s presence. I rack my brain, but I can’t remember any guy I’ve dated who I could be so emotionally open with, who made me feel equally at ease whether I was sad or happy.

Someone’s hot breath hits my neck, interrupting my thought. I shudder, then look to my left. A thirty-something man with glazed-over eyes sports the creepiest smirk I’ve ever seen. He’s so close that we’re brushing shoulders. The stench of alcohol hits my nostrils. Every muscle inside me tenses at his proximity.

“Can I buy you a drink, love?”

I turn back to the bartender, who is just now getting to filling my drinks. “No, thank you.” I stare straight ahead, hoping that my refusal to look at him signals my obvious disinterest.

His hand lands on my back. “Come on, then,” he practically sings. “You look a bit worked up. A drink might loosen you up.”

He leans into me even more, and I bump a nearby stool to try to get away from him. “I said no. And don’t touch me.”

The drunken offender’s hand falls away and so does his smile. He takes a step back, and the breath I’ve been holding flows out in a huff. The bartender sets the drinks down in front of me, but I don’t just want to scurry away from this guy. I want him to know just how much of a prick he is for invading my space. I have a right to be at this pub without being harassed.

I turn to him. “Is that disgusting approach usually a hit with the ladies? God.”

Drinks in hand, I spin around to walk back to my booth, but then I feel his hand on my shoulder. Again I’m cringing. I’m also cursing myself. I should have just walked away without saying a word. Now I’ve provoked this angry drunk.

But just as quickly as it came, his hand is gone. Behind me there’s a grunt, then a thud. I spin around, stunned at the sight of Callum pinning the drunken prick by the throat to the bar.

“You don’t touch her.”

Callum’s growl captures the attention of every patron in the pub. His face is red, his jaw is tense, and his body is on edge, ready to unleash hell if the drunken guy so much as blinks wrong.