In celebration and genuine gratefulness, Rowan took Sage out on a different night. They had a nice dinner at another fancy restaurant. Sage told him countless times that the high-end restaurants were too much.
"You're going to get in trouble."
"Huh?" Rowan rocked on his heels as they stood outside, waiting for the valet to retrieve the company car. He glanced over at Sage and raised one of his brows. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Your company. If you keep using your card like this. Too much pleasure and not enough business."
Rowan shrugged, smiling slightly. His dimples pierced through even in the night. From the LED lights of the restaurant, Rowan's face was illuminated and easy to see. Sage looked straight at the set of dimples in Rowan's cheeks.
"It's a write-off."
"Drinking and eating with your significant other during a paid business trip cannot possibly be a write-off," Sage deadpanned. But Rowan's smile never fell.
"I'll get away with it," Rowan said confidently. "Worried about me?" he asked with a teasing grin, leaning toward Sage.
"Never mind. Get fired. What do I care," Sage grumbled. He turned his back to Rowan. A few moments after he did, a warmth settled over his shoulders. Sage jumped slightly and turned to look. Rowan had set his jacket upon Sage's shoulders. Before he could hand it back, the valet arrived with Rowan's car. A lower hand touched upon his lower back and guided him toward the door.
They did not head back to the inn. Rowan drove to a bar. As much as Sage tried to tell Rowan he did not drink, Rowan begged him. So much that Sage ended up sighing and falling silent. Rowan took it as a yes.
Entering the bar, Sage already found that it was kind of loud. He followed close behind Rowan. As they slipped through the crowd of drunken people, Sage was afraid of getting lost in the sea of strangers. He tugged the other's jacket further on his shoulders. In front of him, he pinched the two sides together in front of his chest. With his other hand, he reached out for Rowan, grabbing ahold of the back of his shirt, hanging onto him like it was his leash.
They reached the bar. Rowan had enough mindfulness to bring Sage to one of the far ends of the bar counter. With a defeated sigh, Sage took a seat at the furthest to the wall. Close enough that his feet kicked the trim.
"What do you want to drink? Cocktail? Chardonnay? Gin? Brandy?"
"Water."
Rowan frowned. "Come on."
"If you're going to drink, I wouldn't be able to anyway," Sage replied, rolling his eyes slightly. He pulled out his phone and clicked open a mobile number game. "Someone would have to drive home." At that answer, Rowan realized his mistake. Right. He really did drag Sage out where it would be impossible to have fun. Sage watched his expression fall.
"It's okay, Rowan," Sage immediately said. The words slipped out. He didn't have a good feeling in his gut when Rowan made such a sad expression.
"I got ahead of myself," Rowan muttered. "I wasn't thinking. Sorry."
"It's fine," Sage repeated. "Have fun. It's a lot easier to pick you up from here than having to go out and find you anyway."
Rowan hesitated, but with the half-lidded glare from Sage, he felt like he had to listen or else. He ordered a water for Sage, told him to get him if he needed him or if he wanted to leave, and left off to drink at the pool tables with a group of strangers.
Sage got immersed in his mobile games. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there in that corner for. He knew he had drunk two glasses of water, but he had no perception of time at that moment. His second cup was empty, and he went to ask for another, but there was suddenly someone placing a new one in front of him.
At first, he assumed it was Rowan who had seen his drink down while coming to check if he had left him behind or not, but when Sage turned and looked, he did not see the familiar, caramel-colored haired, cheeky, handsome, flirty man he spent his last three weeks with. It was some stranger. A tall man with dark hair and light eyes, contrasting and making him look more sinister than anything. Sage leaned back in his chair as the man stood very close to his seat.
"You're sitting over here alone, beautiful. That doesn't seem right," the man spoke. His voice was like an out of tune piano in Sage's ears. "Here. I brought you another drink."
Sage's instinct pushed the drink away. No way in Hell would he accept a drink from a stranger in a crowded bar. That was asking for something bad to happen to him. He turned his head and body away from the man to show completely disinterested.
"No thanks."
Men got violent so quickly after rejection. His light eyes seemingly turned red. He took a closer step, his body brushing against Sage. The doctor felt chills, and he felt dirty when the man touched him. He couldn't respond; he was frozen, revolting and cringing. His body went to lean back in the seat, putting himself against the wall to get further away, but before Sage could do that, a toned hand touched on the man's shoulder and yanked him away from Sage. The guy stumbled back a few feet before the front of his collar was roughly grabbed.
"You want to keep touching him? I dare you. I fucking dare you to try it again."
Sage was startled for a moment, but he recovered quickly. He slid his phone into his pocket and hopped off the bar stool. Taking a step forward, Sage placed his hands on Rowan's tense shoulders and pulled back on them.
"It's okay, Rowan. It's time to leave. Let's pay the tab and leave."
Rowan's head slowly turned. The deep, dark eyes of Rowan's eyes were swirling in a drunken pool. He was drunk, but he actively defended Sage. The doctor's bottom lip curled slightly, unsure how to feel about Rowan's actions. He disliked violence, but he wasn't upset with Rowan for stepping in. The guy really did make him uncomfortable. Rowan's deepest instincts protected Sage.
Suddenly, the pools in his eyes slowed; his grip on the stranger dropped. While the man sped off in fear, Rowan calmly turned toward Sage. He hooked an arm around the doctor's waist and leaned on him, resting his chin on his shoulder. There was a happy humming noise from him that tickled Sage's neck. He raised his head, and below Sage's ear, his lips grazed the skin. Sage could feel a running of chills along his entire being. He swallowed.
"My wallet's in my pocket," Rowan grumbled in Sage's ear. Sage had no idea which pocket, so he had to check them until he found them. While he was fluttery; after Rowan's lips touched his neck, Sage's hands began to fumble.
Rowan's shirt had no pockets, so Sage could only check his pants. The front was embarrassing. Sage felt like he was so close to his groin. The back was awkward, touching around on his behind like he was fondling him. It didn't matter. The wallet wasn't there. Sage frowned, but Rowan laughed.
"Jacket."
Sage had it the whole time. During the night, he had slipped the jacket on completely. It properly sat on his shoulders. He reached into the right pocket of the jacket and immediately found the wallet. Sage sighed and handed the familiar business card off to the bartender to pay the tab, and then he dragged Rowan out of the bar.
Right when they got into the car, Rowan began throwing a small fit.
"I'm sorry." He slouched in the seat and muttered some things. "I'm sorry, I should've called my dad." His posture sunk entirely in the seat. The liquor stirred his emotions. Rowan teared up, curling into a ball in the seat. "I'm sorry. Don't be angry."
There were many things that Sage wanted to ask about. Call his dad? What did his dad have to do with any of this? Sorry for what? Angry? Did Sage look angry? He wasn't. Actually, Sage was quite amused with how Rowan defended him. He felt his heart beating in his chest quicker than it should have from Rowan's drunken behavior, but overall, he was grateful Rowan had swooped in, not upset.
"Don't—" Sage looked over at him and was startled even further. He placed a hand on his head. "Are you crying?"
"I'm sorry."
Sage was stunned, but he managed to say, "Stop apologizing. It's fine."
"You're yelling at me." Rowan's voice was quiet and scared. He really couldn't compute that Sage was not yelling at him. "I'm sorry."
Sage blinked. "I'm not yelling, Rowan." He moved his fingers gently in Rowan's hair, trying to pet and coax him. Alcohol made him so childishly stupid. Sage realized then that he had never seen Rowan drunk before, but he had only seen him hungover. It was a little funny. He expected him to be a loud and rowdy drunk from what he had seen years ago at the party he had first seen him at. Age must have turned him into a man child.
"We'll talk in the morning." He patted Rowan's cheek. "Take a nap."
***
In the other corner of the bar, Darren had seen it all. He watched his friend stumble back over to him and hit him on the head.
"Ever put me in a situation like that again, and I'll kill you! You like that guy?" He was the man who had attempted to seduce the doctor. "How?! He's terrifying!"
"Shut up," Darren hissed. He stared toward the door where he watched Rowan and his supposed lover leave. They didn't act like a couple. Not really. Not completely. It was strange! Darren ground his teeth together and drank.