“No!” I yell, shielding myself with my hands, “Don’t fucking shake it!”
“Argh! Open the rubber! OPEN THE RUBBER!” He yells, and I have no idea what he means. “Blow up the condom! Blow it up!” he yells, gesturing wildly with his other hand at me.
He’s got to be kidding me. But he’s holding my pee drenched phone in his hand so for once I do as he says. I blow into the condom, watching it inflate like a balloon.
“Now, hold it out to me!!” he orders me, a little too excited. I stretch the opening of the condom as far as I can and he shoves my phone into the rubber casing and then takes it from me and twists the neck into a knot before turning it around, inspecting it. “Mission: accomplished, Toilet Girl. I’m a fucking genius,” he says again, holding out my now condom sealed phone to me.
I can’t help but laugh at his excitement over the achievement. I take the phone from him and rinse the outer rubber casing under the tap.
“What? No, thanks?” He says, freeing his fingers from their makeshift gloves and throwing them into the trash, and joining me at the sink.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welc-…” he starts.
“Thank you,” I continue, cutting him off, “for doing such a bad job of guarding the toilet door, that you let a minotaur come charging in here, scaring me and making me drop my phone into a public urinal.”
It doesn’t faze him. He just grins even more widely and holds out his hand as if to shake mine. “Like I said, you’re welcome.”
I bite my tongue, trying not to get caught up in his charm. For the first time I really notice him. Tall. Slim waist but broad shoulders. His grey t-shirt hugging him tight around his firm stomach. Square, strong jaw, and green eyes. And blonde. Dirty, sexy, blonde. I wonder how many women he’s gotten into bed, just by smiling at them like he’s smiling at me right now, with one gorgeous green eye coyly hidden behind his long, flick[R1] fringe.
I ignore his hand and head toward the door, fully aware that I need to get out of here before that smile is going to do some damage to me.
“Well, Mr Elbow Jerk. It was nice to meet you, again. My drowned phone and I will be off now.”
He moves in front of me, blocking me from leaving. “Whoa, not so fast. Don’t I at least get a name?”
“Your parents didn’t give you one? That’s terribly negligent. Okay, then I shall dub thee Sir Elbow Jerk of Condom Fingered County.” I tap him lightly on each shoulder, as if knighting him. His very strong, broad shoulders. That stretch down over that iron hard chest. Damn.
He sighs, the corner of his mouth twitching. “What? You don’t kneel before royalty? Treason!”
“Dude, I knighted you. I out royal you, you should be kneeling before me,” I throw back at him, surprising myself. That Scotch must’ve really gone to my head, I don’t usually feel this comfortable bantering with a complete stranger. It could also be the effect of the location, making equals of us all. Lentil scooper and drop-dead heart throb.
“Sweetheart, I’d be on my knees in front of you, in a second.” He drawls, running his hand through his hair, flicking his fringe up, so both his eyes are locked on mine.
Something low in my stomach flickers to life and I swallow hard, trying to snuff it out. I give him a slow, drawn out eye roll. “I assume you’re used to women saying the same thing to you.”
He just grins that shit eating grin in response. Before I can wipe it off his face with my next comment, the door swings open and two very drunk guys stagger in.
“Hey!” one slurs, pointing at me. “What’s that doing in here?”
“Oi. Who you calling ‘that?'” I ask, insulted.
“This is for dicks only!” drunk number two adds, pointing to his groin and both of them lurch towards us.
“Well, you’re certainly that,” I snicker.
Sir Elbow Jerk facepalms and mumbles something like, “crazy woman,” under his breath and grabs my hand.
“Er, no problem, our sincerest apologies, gentlemen. We were just leaving,” he says, pulling me toward the door.
“Hey! I know you!” drunk number one says, pointing a sweaty finger at Elbow Jerk. “You’re…um…”
Elbow Jerk stops and pulls a twenty from his pocket and shoves it into the guy’s shirt pocket. “I am… very grateful to you for not telling anyone about this. Have a goodnight!”
He waves to the drunk guys and pulls me out of the restroom and back into the bar.
It’s so dark and hot and loud and crowded compared to the bathroom. The sudden change make it feel like the walls are closing in around me.
My heart lurches right into my throat and I feel every inch of my skin burst into sweat. I freeze, even as I feel his hand pulling on mine. I take a deep breath and still feel like no oxygen is entering my lungs. My legs buckle under me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And the last thing I see, is a blonde fringe and green eyes filled with worry looking at me, just before the world goes black.
JEZ
Her eyeballs are flickering under her eyelids, so at least I know she’s alive.
I lift her over my shoulder, and search for the nearest exit. Mike, our body guard, is next to me in an instant.
“Over to the left,” he growls into my ear and clears a path for us to the door at the side of the bar. There’s a guy stationed there, and Mike talks to him for a moment, before waving me through.
He pushes the door open and suddenly we’re outside. The cool air fresh against the back of my neck.
“Can you find a bottle of water?” I say to Mike, and he nods and goes back inside. I lay her down, propped up against the wall.
“Hey, Toilet Girl,” I say, patting her gently on the cheek. “You okay?”
She stirs and her eyelids flutter for a moment. “Stop calling me that,” she murmurs, her voice groggy and barely audible. She takes another breath and her eyes open wider, looking around. “What happened?”
I breathe a sigh of relief to hear her speak, “I don’t know. You just kinda decided you didn’t want to stand up any more.”
“Damn. How embarrassing.” She shuffles back so she’s sitting upright, her back flush against the wall.
“Nah, it’s okay. You knighted me, so it’s only right I fulfil my duty of saving a damsel in distress.”
“I was not in distress,” she glares at me, seemingly regaining full strength.
“What about the phone in the urinal part?” I say, pointedly.