Meant to Marry Me
Confrontation

At least there weren't ten of them. Only four. That meant they were technically only outnumbered by one. But Bree wasn't really going to be able to handle any of them, and then there was the fact that she had her guitar to protect. Trent's response didn't help matters. "Hell, yeah, I will. You should know not to talk to a lady like that, you drunk bastard."

Bree just stared at him. What had gotten into him? How much had he had to drink? She didn't think he'd drank too much, but maybe she hadn't counted beers right or he'd been drinking shots or something while she was backstage. "Let's just calm down for a minute," Zach said, stepping around her. "Let's let the lady get to her vehicle. There's no point in her getting mixed up in this."

"Why not? It was her tits I wanted to see, not his." The group of drunks started laughing, and she could feel the anger radiating off of both of the men in front of her.

Trent and Zach exchanged glances and then each of them slammed their fists into the jaws of the closest drunks, Trent hitting the man who'd insulted her, and Zach taking out the guy right next to him.

They'd caught the group off guard, and by the time the other two reacted, Trent and Zach were swinging again. Bree covered her mouth with her hand, stifling that scream she'd joked about a moment ago. There wasn't any need for it. If the group of drunkards had been able to catch just her and Trent as they exited, he likely wouldn't have been a match for all four of them, but with Zach's help, the men were down in a matter of seconds without landing a single blow on either of the men in front of her.

"You okay?" Zach asked Trent as the last drunk crumpled to the ground.

"Fine. You?"

"Never better."

They turned to look at her, and Bree let out the breath she'd been holding. "Great. We should go before they get up. Or someone calls the police." She headed toward the car, guitar case in hand, and placed it in the trunk before she went around and got into the driver's seat. She wasn't sure how much Trent had had to drink and felt better driving herself.

The two men shook hands, and she half wished Zach would come over so she could tell him goodbye. Instead, he kept his distance and gave her a little wave. She waved back, and he disappeared into the night, a shadow in the alley. Trent was shaking out his hand, and she imagined it hurt but also figured that might teach him a lesson not to start fights at her shows. She figured he'd try to get her to move so he could drive, but he simply handed over the keys. Bree started the vehicle and backed out of the parking spot, not wanting to talk about any of it. She hoped Trent wouldn't bring it up, and they could just drive home in peace. They were almost to her apartment when he said, "I'm sorry, Bree. I wasn't thinking about anything other than keeping you safe."

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"Yet, what you did actually put me in danger."

"I wouldn't have let anything happen to you."

"What if Zach hadn't showed up? What if you would've had to take those guys on all by yourself? They would've beat the shit out of you."

"I would've figured it out."

"You're an accountant, Trent, not an MMA fighter."

"What's that supposed to mean? That because I'm an accountant, I can't protect you? I handled those assholes pretty good."

"I didn't mean that. I was just saying... two of them, okay. But not four."

"They were so drunk, I could've knocked them over by myself."

She pulled her eyes off of the road to look at him for a second but didn't say more. If that's what he really thought, he was in for a rude awakening the next time he tried something like that. If he ever did it again. "I'm sorry, Bree." He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him. "I don't want to fight with you."

"I don't want to fight with you either, but please promise me you won't do that again, okay? Let me handle my own business."

"Okay."

But there was something about his tone that made her think he didn't mean it.

Bree let out a sigh and turned onto the street where her apartment was. It was late, and she was tired. How had she gone from the high of her first experience with him to wanting to smack him all in the span of a few hours? All she knew was she wanted to go in and go to sleep. If he expected make-up sex, it was out of the question.

As she attempted to get out of the vehicle, Trent grabbed her arm and pulled her over, pressing his lips to hers. His touch, his scent, the taste of him.... Suddenly, she forgot how angry she was and all she wanted was for him to take her inside and show her just how sorry he was.