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bra.
    “Watch where you’re going.” A large man stood next to them. He slammed a mostly empty beer stein on the pool table, dribbles running over his clenched fist.
    Fury nudged Zane’s senses. Loudmouth had run into her, not the other way around.
    Riley flinched away, brow furrowed. “What the hell?” She shook her hands, and drops of beer splattered the floor around her.
    “Watch where you’re going, bitch.”
    Anger spurred Zane forward, powered by protective instinct, and unrequited lust. In an instant, he was nose-to-nose with the loud asshole. “Apologize.”
    “Fuck you.” Loudmouth pushed Zane’s shoulder. The stench of warm beer radiated from him. “Tell your bitch to watch where she’s going.”
    All conversation stopped around them. People turned to stare, and camera phones came out.
    “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal.” Riley’s pleading voice was soft amid the growing murmurs.
    Zane didn’t like fighting, but there were some things a person just didn’t back down from. Like seeing his friend blamed by a drunken jackass for something she didn’t do. He grabbed Loudmouth’s wrist and pulled it away from his own shoulder. In a single movement, he twisted and was behind Loudmouth, pulling the other man’s fingers toward the base of his neck. Zane applied enough pressure to convey he could do worse, but not enough to cause injury. “It is a big deal. He owes you a new shirt, but a genuine I’m sorry would be a good starting place.”
    Loudmouth growled and jerked away, breaking Zane’s grip on him. “Fucking asshole. I’m sorry your stupid girlfriend got in the way of my beer.” He tensed his shoulders, spread his feet shoulder-width apart, and brought his fists up in a boxing stance. He wavered in his stance before steadying himself.
    Zane kept his posture casual, staring back without flinching. If Loudmouth lunged, he’d find himself on the ground with a mouthful of carpet. Zane only partly hoped it would come to that. He made sure the anxiety of his hammering heart didn’t show in his movements. The seconds ticked away, seeming to stretch into eternity.
    “Asshole.” Loudmouth narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then turned toward the exit, grumbling under his breath.
    There was no need for Zane to go after the guy. All he wanted to do was diffuse the situation. As his adrenaline receded, the reassurance repeated in his head until he believed it.
    “Excuse me.” A firm voice jarred Zane from his brief meditation. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
    Zane eyed the bar employee, adrenaline still coursing through him. The guy was shorter by a couple of inches but bulkier, and the way his shirt stretched over his chest said he was muscular. Zane swallowed the resurge of instinct. He didn't want to start a fight; he’d already dispatched the threat.
    He shook his head, to clear out any residual argument, and wrapped an arm around Riley’s waist. “Right. Sorry about the floor.” He tossed a five on the table before leading her outside.
    Almost every gaze in the room followed their short path. The stench of greasy food and booze threatened to resummon Zane’s dinner. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last slice of pizza. They pushed outside, and the cool air washed over them.

Chapter Six
    Riley should have been embarrassed, about what happened inside with the drunken asshole, or upset about being asked to leave or something. Instead, all she could focus on was whether or not she’d made a mistake suggesting no-strings sex with Zane. Her thoughts were still stuck on his cock digging into her, moments earlier. The dampness that pooled between her legs when he grabbed her wrists. Her desperate desire to find out how he kissed.
    Zane opened the passenger door of his truck and reached behind the seat. He grabbed a spare T-shirt and handed it to her. “I should take you home.”
    The dismissal nagged her, but she hid her disappointment. She had to resurrect this somehow.