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shoulder. My body is racked with the crying. He strokes his hand down my arm, and I suddenly feel safe again. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my forehead against his chest. I feel his rapid heartbeat on my temple.
    “Do you want us to call the police, ma’am?” the manager says as she walks up to us. “That asshole is always causing problems.” The stocky brunette looks at me with pity. Her Peachtree Tavern t-shirt is untucked, and she has on khaki cargo pants. Her face looks sullen, like a woman you wouldn’t want to mess with. She looks so gruff, but her voice is sincere.
    “No, I just want to leave,” I mumble, mortified that this has caused such a scene. Donovan still has his protective grip on me while Livey, Cindy, and Jasmine crowd around me.
    “Ma’am, I hope you are okay. Look, if you change your mind, you can call me. I’ll give the cops my statement.” The manager, whose nametag says Jessie, takes my hand and pats it. “Thank you,” is all I can muster at this point. My sobs have stopped, but they have left me spent. Livey grabs my purse off the ground and hands it to me while the manager breaks up the crowd.
    “Baby girl, we should get you home,’ Livey says. I glance up at Donovan, whose anger is still palpable on his lovely face. He runs his free hand through his hair while the other still rests on my shoulder. His grey shirt is sweat stained, and he looks so angry.
    “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Livey,” my voice barely a whisper. I don’t want to end my evening with Donovan, but it looks like I may have to take a rain check on the coffee.
    “Did you want me to drive you home?” Donovan asks. “I brought my car. I really don’t mind. In fact, I want to.”
    I glance towards my friends. “Yeah, I’m going to let Donovan drive me home. Please don’t let me ruin your night. Stay. Have a good time.” In all honesty, I want some more time with Donovan. I enjoy his presence. It surrounds me and overwhelms me, and right now, that’s all I want.
    Livey contemplates this idea. I think she knows that I want to hang out with Donovan, but she wants to be the one that’s there for me. Livey sighs and gives in. “Okay, sweetie, but we are going to leave too. We are heading to grab a bite at Wendy’s, you want anything?” she offers.
    “No, I’m okay, really. Just call me when you’re on the way home.” I tell her. We say our goodbyes to my girls and head out the door. My eyes scan the parking lot, looking for the linebacker. When I don’t see him, I breathe a sigh of relief. Donovan keeps his hold on me as we walk to his car. We reach the same BMW I had seen earlier this morning. Donovan releases me and opens the passenger side door for me. I slide in, and he shuts it. Donovan stops and looks around for my attacker. When he is completely satisfied, he slips into the driver’s side with ease. I admire the car’s beauty. It’s clean, and the black leather looks as though it’s been well taken care of. There is black tint on the windows. The stereo is custom made with lots of knobs and lights. Donovan’s iPod is laying on the cup holder. Donovan turns the key and roars the engine. Instead of shifting into reverse, he turns to me.
    “I’m so sorry I didn’t stop that jerk sooner. I only turned to finish my beer, only took my eyes off of you for a second. By the time I turned to look for you, the guy was grabbing you and trying to assault you,” Donovan clenches his teeth, his brow furrowed.
    “Please don’t blame yourself. It is not your fault,” I plead as I shift in my seat to face him, my eyes trained on his.
    “But it did happen and it fucking pisses me off!” Donovan bellows as he slams both his fists on the steering wheel, making me jump.
    I place my hand on his thigh. “Please don’t do this to yourself. You can’t beat yourself up over what some crazy guy did.” Donovan grabs my hand and whips around to face me, his eyes showing his fear.
    “I was