The first spicy silk of whiskey passes my lips as I hear a haughty laugh from the guy next to me. He’s got his hand on his date’s ass, but his gaze is roaming the room, almost like he’s checking out his options, looking to see if there’s something better out there.

Dick. Who does that?

The woman he’s with is gorgeous—what little I can see of her. But, really, who fucking does that?

Just as an oversize serving of my sister’s tiramisu is placed in front of me, I snag a flash of movement. The chick to the right grabs her mostly empty drink and chucks it right at the asshole next to me. There’s so little in it; it has to be the most pathetic drink toss in the history of bad dates. All that hits the guy is a small splash of something with the unmistakable scent of tequila along with a cherry and the plastic stirrer straw. But this guy, the asshole, goes fucking ballistic.

“What was that for? Jesus, you ruined my custom-made shirt.” His rant is completely over the top, like he’s got to have all the attention on him. Spoiled, pretentious prick. “Your company will be getting billed for this, and I don’t think my father will be happy, having such an aggressive, angry bitch in his office for the rest of this week.”

“It’s a fucking shirt, Brooks. Wash it.”

Good girl, sticking up for herself.

I’m not sure what’s going on, though it doesn’t sound like it’s the date I thought it was. Sassy Chick pushes back from the bar, obviously ready to be done with this asshole, when he grabs her wrist and hauls her in close.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving,” she states, trying to pull out of his grasp. “That hurts. Let me go.” She seethes, striving to keep things low-key.

These two are complete opposites. He’s all about being the center of attention, and she is doing everything in her power to downplay the situation and just get away.

“Hey, man, sounds like the lady’s about done here tonight. Why don’t you be a man and respect that?”

Their situation has nothing to do with me, but there’s no way I can stand by and watch a woman get treated like shit. I just can’t.

“And why don’t you just mind your own business, man?” He’s distracted by me just enough for Sassy Chick to break his hold on her wrist and grab her crap.

It’s more than obvious that she’s done, and I am all for that. She just needs to leave this guy behind.

He throws a few paltry bills on the bar, barely enough to cover a couple of hotdogs in the park let alone anything they could have ordered here, and grabs her elbow, halting her escape. “You’re not going anywhere without me—” He spits her name at her, like it’s laced with venom, but I miss it.

I miss everything once his fingers curl around her arm, dragging her back to him. Once his lip sneers up in a possessive snarl. Once I see her wince and hear a gasp leave her cherry-red lips.

“Dude, let the lady go.” I stand to my full height and place a hand on his shoulder. “She’s made it abundantly clear that she’s not interested in what you’re offering.”

He turns to give me his full attention, and finally—finally—I get a good look at this woman.

“Gracyn?”

It can’t be, can it?

I hold my breath, my heart stuttering in my chest as it decides if it’s going to stop right here and now or slam against my ribs, racing for all that it’s worth.

“You know this … dirtbag?” The asshole’s disdain bleeds through as he takes me in. The hair. The tats. All of me. “Figures.”

He’s still spouting off his hate, but the only thing that registers is Gracyn. She’s here. Standing an arm’s length away from me. Looking fucking gorgeous.

She looks away, avoiding my eyes, her chin jutting forward, those full lips pursed.

Embarrassed maybe?

I don’t know, but all thoughts of how not right this whole thing is have just amplified through the fucking roof. This guy has already made it perfectly clear that he thinks I’m a loser, not that image has ever really been my thing. I reach up, pulling my hair back to secure it with the purple hairband that I’ve had with me at all times since Destin.

“I think we’re fucking done here. Why don’t you pay your bill for real?” I toss a nod at what he’s thrown to the bar and square up to him, leaving no doubt in his mind that I’m the bigger guy—and right now, size does matter. “Gracyn, why don’t you wait for me by the door?” I talk to her over my shoulder, not wanting to take my eyes off this guy. No way am I afraid of him. I just want to keep him on his fucking toes.

“Seriously?” Gracyn huffs out, shaking her head. She turns to face the piece of shit standing next to me, jamming her finger into his chest. “I will gladly talk to your father—my client—about this shitshow tonight and the many lines that were crossed after he was so graciously concerned for my well-being. I’m sure he’d love to hear that his son grabbed the new accountant’s ass and pretty much told her to watch what she ate because she didn’t have any spare room in her clothes.”

“Sounds like harassment to me,” I offer up, thinking I’m being supportive, helping her get her point across.

But, when Gracyn turns her attention to me, my heart really does stop.

“And you. You of all people should know that I don’t need saving. I can take care of myself. No white knight swooping in, no damsel to save here.”

Jesus, she’s beautiful.

The chandelier above the table behind her highlights her wavy golden hair, just like the moon did that night on the beach. The night she flipped me and just about beat my ass.

“Wait for you by the door? No, thanks.”

I watch as she stalks toward the front of the restaurant, winding her way through the closely set tables.

“Bitch.”

I drag my gaze away from Gracyn’s retreating form and stare at this schmuck. My jaw muscles twitch while I take a second to decide.

Am I going to walk away from this dickhead or school him on life?

My debate ends when I hear him mutter some shit about her being a cocktease.

The din of the restaurant fades as I turn to face him. “Probably a waste of my time, dick”—I purposely stress his new nickname—“but let me clue you in on what it is to be a man. I’m not being a sexist asshole—far be it from me to try to dethrone you there—but a real man treats a woman with respect. Has the responsibility to honor and protect her from the dickheads of the world. Commits to that shit and owns it. A real man desires a woman for who she is, not just because of some fucked-up notion that she’s weak and there for the taking.

“That woman … the one who just walked out that door? She’s the best thing you’ll never have. You can only hope and pray that, someday, you’ll have matured enough to earn the privilege of her company again.”

I toss a couple of twenties on the bar, grab my guitar, and book my way out of the restaurant. Stray hairs that have broken free of their confines blow across my face as I swivel my head from left to right, searching. I catch sight of Gracyn across the street, climbing into the back of a car pointed uptown. Weaving my way through the blissfully light traffic, I grab the door handle and slide into her Uber, almost losing my guitar to a passing taxi.

“Get out, Gavin. I’ve dealt with enough shit tonight.”

Gracyn pulls a scarf out of her bag and starts to wind it around her throat. An oddly familiar purple scarf with lyrics printed on it is wrapped gracefully around that throat. I remember the taste of it, the sounds she made when I licked my way up it to her pouty kiss-swollen lips.

“Not a chance in hell, G. We need to talk. It’s been a long time.”

Our driver looks over his shoulder at Gracyn. “What are we doing? Are you sharing a ride? This wasn’t on the app.” At least he’s fucking respectful to her. A hell of a lot better than the shit she was out with tonight.

“Go ahead. He can find his own way back.” Gracyn sinks back into the seat and blows out a huge, frustrated sigh. “What do we need to talk about, Gavin?” She finally—finally—meets my eye.

I hold on to her closed-off, pissed-off glare.

And wait.

Wait until Gracyn starts to shift in her seat, until her eyes soften a little.

“I want to know why you did it. Why you snuck out of your condo in the middle of the night and took off.” I lean in close, breathing in her perfume. It’s still the same. “I want to know why you just disappeared when all I wanted to do was give us a shot.”