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He stares at me with a look of such intensity it steals my breath. His voice dropping an octave, he says slowly, “Do you really believe I would ever let anything like that happen to you?” I open my mouth, but close it again, because the automatic “yes” I was about to blurt isn’t the truth. The truth—no matter how ridiculous, impossible, or crazy —is that I believe he’d sacrifice his own life without hesitation if it would save mine. My voice comes out in a faint, shocked whisper. “No. I think you’d always keep me safe.” “I would,” he insists, his eyes shining with emotion. “I will. I swear it.” We stare at each other until the woman at the bar stool on his other side says, “If she’s not interested, hot stuff, I sure am.” We ignore her. “But I can’t…this lifestyle of yours…it’s…it’s
- Writer
