He held his arms out and smirked. “Comes with the suit.” His smile disappeared for a moment as he lightly touched around his eye. “Though, in my mind, that situation was going to end differently.”
“Let me guess: in your mind, the woman was thankful for you saving her from an abusive man?”
“Yeah, something along those lines.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You aren’t from around these parts, are you?”
He laughed. “Does the accent give it away?”
“No, the fact that you tried to help in that situation did. Most New Yorkers keep their heads down and stay in their own lane.”
“I never was any good at that staying in my own lane thing. Plus, my mama would kill me if she knew I saw something as shitty as that and kept walking.”
I didn’t know why, but I liked the way he said mama. He really was a Southern boy.
“Well, I’m sorry that moment didn’t turn out like the fairy tales.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “Maybe next time it will.” His smile somehow seemed to make his eyes brighter than before. He brushed his thumb against his nose and nodded in my direction. “Thanks, Red.”
“Red?”
He gestured toward me. I glanced down at myself and rolled my eyes at my slowness. Right—Red, as in Little Red Riding Hood.
“Oh, right. Thanks to you, Cap, doer of good.” Doer of good? Could you sound any more lame, Aaliyah?
He kept smiling as his eyes traveled up and down my body, not in an invasive way, but as if he was simply taking note of me overall. It happened quickly, and I didn’t feel an ounce of disrespect, because my eyes had done the same thing to him.
Then his blues locked with my browns. “You think I can buy you a drink?” he asked, bruised eye and all. The amount of confidence it took for him to offer me a drink after I watched him get his butt kicked was inspiring. If it were the other way around, I’d be on the subway, licking my wounds and avoiding human interaction for the remainder of my life. Perhaps that was how my villain origin story would’ve begun—beaten up by Wonder Woman and Thor outside a New York bar.
But Captain? Nope. He still seemed as confident as ever.
I hesitated on the drink invitation for a moment. On one hand, interacting with the opposite sex was at the bottom of the barrel as far as things I wanted to do. On the other hand, my other option was going home, drinking wine, and crying as I played Taylor Swift and looked at old photographs of Mario and me while reading old text messages.
“Oh, Cap.” I walked over to him and patted him on the back. “Let me buy you a drink. You need it more than I do.”
2
Aaliyah
His drink of choice was whiskey, which made me think he was a lot older than he looked. What guy my age drank straight whiskey? Most guys I knew were drinking beer or the cheapest shots they could find. My drink was a Long Island because I was a wild child. When I reached into my purse to pay for said drink, he’d somehow already had the bartender put it on his tab.
“Hey!” I argued, shooting him a stern look.
He shrugged. “Sorry. Where I come from, the man pays for the pretty lady’s drink.”
He called me pretty, and I pretended not to notice. “You came from like 1918, sir. Times have changed.”
“So you know your Captain America trivia.”
“I’m a comic book nerd. On top of that, I went through a Chris Evans phase—which, honestly, I’m still in.”
“I can’t blame you. Have you ever seen that man’s butt?”
“That’s America’s ass,” I joked, lifting my drink. “Thanks for this, but just so you know, just because you bought me a drink doesn’t mean I owe you anything. Not my time, not my attention, and not my body.”
He laughed and nodded. “Thank you for making that clear. Would that go both ways if you bought me a drink?”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “You would have to give me your time, your attention, and your body.”
“That seems ass-backward.”
I shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I just follow them. By the way, how old are you?”
“Twenty-five. You?”
“Twenty-two. I could tell you were old because you’re drinking straight whiskey.”
He laughed. “I’m only three years older than you.”
“A lot can change in a person’s life in three years.”
“You’re not wrong there. Three years ago, I probably wasn’t drinking whiskey, but somewhere along the way, I started making business deals with older gentlemen who poured me expensive glasses. So, I’ve adapted.”
“Do you actually enjoy the whiskey, or is it just something you were told to enjoy?”
“Ah, the old question of what’s truly a person’s choice, and what was chosen for them based on their surroundings.” He tapped his pointer finger against his chin. “I think I like it because I like it.”
“I guess it’s possible to grow into things society introduced you to, too.”
His eyes narrowed, and he looked at me as if trying to uncover some secrets about me. He blinked and turned away to lift his drink, then his stare came back to me. For a moment, it felt as if we were the only two standing in the middle of the packed bar. I lost myself in his eyes for a moment—up until Big Bird bumped into me, bringing me back to reality.
“You want to find a table to drink these together?” he asked, very attentive. Even when the bird bumped me, he didn’t look away. He stayed focused on me, making it easy for me to return my attention to him.
“If you’re able to find a table in this packed place, I’ll have two drinks with you,” I joked, knowing it was damn near impossible to find a vacant table in any bar on Halloween night.
He cocked a brow and gave me a mirthful grin. “Challenge accepted. Follow me.”
I did
