I’m not what you would call a nervous guy.

In fact, I’m confident to the point of arrogance, if I’m to be completely honest with myself. And yet, as I step into Marion’s for what’s possibly the five-hundredth time, my heart is pounding with nerves.

The place is packed from front to back but I’ve spent a significant portion of my adult life inside floating cylinders stuffed with people. I ain’t exactly claustrophobic. People don’t bother me but, for some reason, this one has my blood pumping.

Phoebe Pink. Who knew, right?

I reach into my pocket for my phone to check the time as I make my way toward the circular bar in the center of the main floor. It’s almost eight-ten. I’m a few minutes late but I’m prepared to do a little groveling as soon as I find her.

I wave at the bartender across the counter. He acknowledges my presence but chooses to serve the leggy blonde a few feet down from me first. I give an understanding nod. No sense in cock-blocking the poor guy, especially since it looks like it’s going to be a long night for him.

I lean forward against the bar and wait, scanning the crowd again for that head of bright red hair. A few girls stand out but my attentions skim right over them.

The bartender makes his way over to me. “What can I get you?” he asks over the music blaring from speakers above the bar.

“Jack and Coke,” I say.

“Gotcha.”

He turns while I reach into my pocket for cash. As he shifts out of the way, that hair comes into view ahead of me at the other side of the bar.

Phoebe Pink sits on a stool with some guy hovering over her shoulder.

He’s leaning in a little too close, trying to whisper something into her ear but Phoebe ain’t having it. She leans away every time. Guy just won’t take the hint.

The bartender returns with my drink and I hand him enough cash to cover it and a decent tip.

“You see that girl?” I ask him, pointing at Phoebe.

He glances over his shoulder. “The red head?”

“Yeah. How long has she been here?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe,” he says with a shrug.

“And how long has that prick been at her?”

“About five.”

I nod at the barely-touched highball glass in front of her. “What’s she drinking?”

He thinks for a second. “Vodka tonic.”

I lay down a few dollars more. “Make her up another one, will ya? I’m heading over.”

“All right,” he says, swiping the money off the bar.

I grab my own glass and walk around the bar to her side, slowly navigating through the dense crowd with my eye on her. She hasn’t noticed me yet, which is perfect because this move is way more fun when it’s a surprise… and it’s an outright hoot when the guy is as shrimpy as this fucker is.

I get close enough to barely hear what they’re saying and I wait for the right moment.

“You wanna dance, baby?” he asks.

“I told you already. No, thank you,” she says.

I smile. So polite.

“Aw, come on. You know you wanna…”

He touches her arm and she tugs it away as she tightens her grip on her purse tucked under her elbow.

“No,” she says it again, her voice quivering slightly.

“Listen, honey,” he spits, “we both know you’re not doing any better than me tonight, so you might as well give it up.”

And that’s my cue.

I step between them, forcefully butting him out of the way as I cup her startled, yet relieved, face.

“Hey, honey,” I say. “Sorry, I’m late.”

I kiss her, keeping my eyes open just so I can watch hers flutter closed. Her stiff shoulders relax as I rest my palm on the side of her neck, urging her to part her lips for me and she lets my tongue caress hers. She clenches my arm to hold herself up, really selling it to this fucking loser still lingering beside us.

I break away and turn to tower over him and his annoyed stare by at least half a foot.

“Hey, squirt,” I greet him. “Can I help you with something?”

He glances between us before slinking off into the crowd with his tail between his stick-like legs.

I settle onto the stool next to Phoebe as she runs a finger along the side of her open mouth. Completely kiss-shocked, as intended.

The bartender sets her new drink down in front of her.

I pick up the old one. “Dump this, please.”

Phoebe squints with confusion as he takes it from me. “Wha—?”

“Did you look away from it at all in the last few minutes?” I ask.

“Wait — you don’t think that guy…?” she asks, pale and terrified.

“Wouldn’t risk it.” I slide her new drink a little closer to her. “Here.”

She blinks several times. “Thank you,” she exhales.

“You’re welcome.” I eye her trembling lips, finding it hard to hold back my grin. “Sorry about the kiss.”

“No, you’re not,” she notes.

“Nah, you’re right. Worth every second.”

She laughs. “Just don’t do it again.”

I hold up my hands. “You have my word,” I say, smiling back. “Really, though. Are you okay? Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m fine now.”

I look her up and down, admiring her tight, black skirt and sapphire blouse as I take a sip of my drink. “Yes, you are,” I say with a wink.

Her eyes roll back. “You’ve used that one already.”

“I have?”

“Yeah. At Max’s.”

“Shit. Guess I’ll have to break out the real special lines for you.”

“Or you could just talk to me like a normal person,” she suggests.

I cringe. “Okay, how did I go from the hero to the lousy pick-up artist in thirty seconds?”

She laughs. “You’re a talented man, Thad.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I grab our drinks and slide off my stool. “Come on.”

I push through the crowd, moving slowly so she can keep up with me. We travel away from the thumping speakers and shouting voices by the bar to the quiet corners in the back. A table for two sits empty, just waiting for us, and I smile at the twist of fate.

Must be my lucky night.

I set our drinks down and Phoebe takes the chair beside hers. She glances around, still visibly irked by her encounter with that creep. I don’t blame her.

“Relax, Pheebs,” I tell her. “You’re safe with me.”

She smiles and releases the iron-tight clench on her purse to set it down on the table between us. “Is it obvious yet that I don’t come out often?”

“A little.”

“But you do?”

I nod. “I might spend a decent chunk of time here when I’m in town.”

“When you’re in town…” she gives a knowing glance, “and are in need of a warm bed to sleep in?”

“Milady…” I lay an open palm on my chest. “You have the wrong idea.”

“Do I?” she asks, leaning forward enough to reveal the cusps of her cleavage.

“I’m not sure who you’ve spoken to,” I say, “but what you utter is pure slander toward my good character.”

“Oh…” She plays along, feigning a gasp. “My apologies, good sir.”

“If all I wanted was a warm bed, I’d just call Max.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s one hell of a little spoon.”

Phoebe cracks up, letting out the slightest snort before covering her nose and shutting it down. “Okay, then…” she says. “Fair enough.”

I stare at her pink face, so bright and adorable — even in these dim back corners.

She takes a sip of her drink and clears her throat, going serious. “Really, though,” she says, looking at me. “Why did you call me, Thad? What is this?”

“I told you. I wanted to catch up with you after what happened.”

“Were you not satisfied with your Goldilocks rating?” she asks.

“Yeah, about that…” I grin. “I’m sorry if those questions made you feel uncomfortable. That’s just something I like to do for a post-coital laugh but you weren’t laughing — so I backed off.”

“It’s okay,” she says, smiling. “It was funny, I was just…” Her eyes fall on the table between us. “I was in a small state of shock that morning.”

I nod. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I think back to that morning, that night. Every moment of it. From the start of the reunion to Sally’s little game. I know better than to mention that here now unless I want to leave this place wearing that vodka tonic resting in her fingers.

“Okay…” I take a drink to wet my throat. “I don’t know if you know this about me but I have sex a lot.”

She doesn’t blink. “You don’t say?”

“So, it’s not unusual for me to wake up next to a woman after a night of heavy drinking,” I continue. “Hell, I’ve even woken up next to Max a few times.”

Her brow furrows.

I raise a pointed finger. “But always with a lady resting betwixt, as you know…”

“Where are you going with this, Thad?” she asks, chuckling.

“Good question. Let me back up here…” I take another sip of my drink. “Pheebs, I woke up that morning and I felt really good. I opened my eyes, looked around, and you were there. Naked and beautiful. Eyes closed, breathing softly.” I pause. “It felt good.”

She blushes — the same way she did with Max — and I feel it all the way down in my toes. Her throat clears as she picks up her glass and takes a much-needed drink to let it all sink in.

“You called me because you wanted to feel good again?” she asks.

“Exactly.”

“And did this good feeling strike you before or after you felt up my boob in my sleep?”

I hiss through shameful guilt. “After? Before?” I wait for a reaction but she gives me nothing. “Shit. Which answer gets me in less trouble?”

She laughs. “It’s okay, Thad. I, uh… I felt really good that morning, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Once the shock wore off, of course.”

I bite my inner cheek. “Felt good because of Max… or because of me?”

She sits back, breathing in as she thinks. “Both, actually.”

“I like you, Phoebe,” I say, feeling a little more comfortable. “I didn’t think I would but I do… and I would love to like you some more.”

Her pink cheeks shine again. “You have a fun way with words,” she notes.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

She tilts her head down to obscure her growing grin.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

She relaxes and nods. “I could eat.”

I pour back the rest of my drink and set the empty glass down. “Finish off your tonic and we’ll get out of here.”

Phoebe raises her glass, still half-full, and brings it to her lips. She takes one large gulp of it to catch up with me and sets it down next to mine.

“All right,” she says, wiping the moisture from her bottom lip. “Let’s go.”

Goddamn.

This is definitely my lucky night.