4

Cute. The word made her feel about twelve years old.

  

  "That's kind of you to say."

  

  "I'm just being honest." He leaned forward again, closing the distance between them. "I noticed you the moment I walked in. You were sitting here all alone, looking so serious with your book. I thought, now there's someone interesting."

  

  Amelia's hands were trembling slightly. She pressed them flat against her thighs under the table where he could not see.

  

  "I should probably get going," she said.

  

  "Already?" Daniel glanced at her still-full glass. "You've barely touched your drink."

  

  "I know, I'm sorry. I just remembered I have some things to do tomorrow morning."

  

  It was a weak excuse and they both knew it.

  

  "Come on," he said, his smile taking on a slightly harder edge. "Stay for one drink. I bought it for you."

  

  And there was the unspoken expectation. The invisible debt she now owed him.

  

  "I appreciate that," she said carefully. "But I really should go."

  

  "Five more minutes," he said. "That's all I'm asking."

  

  It was not a request. His tone had shifted into something firmer. More insistent. Amelia felt her chest tighten.

  

  "I don't think—"

  

  "Look," Daniel interrupted, his voice taking on a slightly wounded quality. "I'm just trying to have a conversation. I thought we were getting along."

  

  "I'm sure you're very nice," she said. "But I came here to be alone."

  

  "Then why did you let me sit down?"

  

  "I was trying to be friendly," she said instead.

  

  His tone had shifted again. Less friendly. More accusatory. Amelia felt her pulse quicken.

  

  "I just want to go home."

  

  "After one drink." He gestured toward her glass. "You haven't even finished it. It seems rude to waste it, don't you think?"

  

  She was being manipulated. She knew that. But knowing it and being able to do anything about it were two entirely different things.

  

  "I don't know what you want me to say."

  

  "I want you to relax." He reached across the table as though to touch her hand.

  

  Amelia pulled back instinctively. His expression darkened.

  

  "I'm just trying to be nice," he said. "There's no need to be like that."

  

  Like what? Uncomfortable? Trapped? Frightened?

  

  "I think there's been a misunderstanding," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "I appreciate you buying me a drink, but I'm not interested in—"

  

  "In what?" he interrupted. "Having a conversation? Meeting new people? Or are you just one of those women who leads men on for free drinks?"

  

  The accusation hit her like a slap.

  

  "That's not fair."

  

  "Isn't it?" He leaned back, crossing his arms. "I've been nothing but polite. I bought you a drink. I've been sitting here making conversation. And you've been looking for an excuse to leave since the moment I sat down."

  

  "Because I wanted to be alone," she said, her voice rising slightly despite her best efforts to remain calm. "I told you that."

  

  "After I'd already bought it." "You didn't say no."

  

  Her hands were shaking. She pressed them harder against her legs.

  

  "I'd like you to leave," she said quietly.

  

  "I'm not finished with my drink."

  

  "Then I'll leave."

  

  She started to stand. Daniel's hand shot out, not quite touching her but hovering near her wrist in a way that made sitting back down feel less like a choice and more like a necessity.

  

  "Don't be like that," he said. His voice had softened again, back to that false friendliness that made her skin crawl. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong. Let's start over, yeah? I'm Daniel. You're Amelia. We're just two people having a drink."

  

  No. They were not. A man who refused to accept rejection. A woman too frightened to make a scene. She was alone. Trapped.

  

  He had not touched her. He had not threatened her. He had simply refused to leave her alone. And somehow, that felt like her fault.

  

  "Please," she said quietly. "I just want to go home."

  

  Daniel studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled. It was not a kind smile.

  

  "Fine," he said. "But you're making a mistake. I'm a nice guy. You're not going to find better than me in a place like this."

  

  She did not respond. Could not respond. Her throat felt tight and her eyes burned with tears she absolutely refused to let fall. Daniel finished his pint in three long swallows and stood.

  

  "Your loss," he said.

  

  Then he walked away. Amelia sat frozen in her chair, watching him disappear into the crowd near the bar.

  

  Her heart was racing. Her hands were still shaking. She felt angry.

  

  She reached for her glass and took a long drink, willing her heartbeat to slow. She only needed a minute to steady herself before she left. When she looked up again, Daniel had not gone after all. He was standing near the bar with another pint in his hand, speaking to someone she could not quite make out through the crowd.

Then his head turned. His eyes found hers once more. The knot in Amelia’s stomach tightened.

She had the uncomfortable feeling that he was waiting. Waiting for her to leave. Waiting for another chance to speak to her.

She looked away, hoping that if she ignored him long enough, he would eventually lose interest.

He did not.

What Amelia could not have known was that Daniel’s were not the only eyes following her that evening.

From the opposite side of the bar, another man had witnessed the entire exchange in complete silence. He had watched Amelia’s polite smile slowly disappear beneath mounting discomfort. He had seen every subtle attempt she made to end the conversation without causing embarrassment. He had seen Daniel ignore every one of them.

Setting his untouched drink carefully onto the bar, the stranger straightened to his full height. His gaze never left Amelia.

Tonight, two pairs of eyes were fixed upon her.

One belonged to the man who refused to leave her alone.

The other belonged to the man quietly walking towards her.