Unhinged

Chapter Seventeen

The restaurant was a bust.

Not really, because the food and service was amazing, but it just wasn't your guys' speed, so you ducked out earlier than planned when you spotted more elderly couples than ones your age and strolled a few blocks hand in hand until you came across a pool hall. You pulled him inside and grinned widely when you recognized the tune playing on the jukebox, knowing you found your people.

He pretended he didn't want to play a game, but as soon as he broke and sunk two stripes, he was completely into it. You both ordered scotch and sodas that became four each by the time you kicked his ass in two out of three matches. You raised your stick triumphantly a second before the eight-ball disappeared and he bowed his head in defeat, giving you a slow clap as you moved your shoulders and hips a little in a subtle victory dance. He rounded the table with a low chuckle as you pumped your fist in the air, wrapping his arm around your waist

"Nice job, baby." He whispered against your temple before kissing it, getting a bit shyer in public with the displays of affection, but you knew he meant it.

"Thanks, baby." You beamed back and turned to give him a chaste kiss.

"Hungry?" He asked and you nodded with a hum before he kissed you again quickly, eyeing the bar across the room for a second, "Share an order of nachos with me?"

"Yes! And maybe we should switch to regular coke."

"Sounds good," He agreed, giving a quick scan of the room and noticing there were mostly guys in their twenties and thirties here, so he was a bit reluctant to leave you by yourself, even if he knew you could hold your own, "Pick a new song and I'll be right back?"

You didn't notice the apprehension so much and you just nodded in agreement, setting your stick down on the table before you walked off to the jukebox.

You leaned your forearm against it, scanning through the options with your other hand, and your eyes were glued to the song titles, so you didn't notice the guy approaching you.

"I like your tattoos," His voice made you turn your head before you finally blinked as you peeled your eyes away to smile at the stranger, but it dropped the second he added, "Have any in places I can't see?"

"Yes and you never will." You gave him an overly fake smile and then rolled your eyes with a scoff as you turned back to the selections again, picking Saturday Night's Alright by Elton John.

"Come on, any man that takes you home tonight is the luckiest guy in the world," He licked his lips in a way that made you want to vomit all over his cowboy boots, "Could be me."

"Alright," You turned to him fully and he raised his eyebrows before you told him to, "Get down on your knees and prove it."

"Um, what do you mean?" He forced a laugh, but it came out nervous.

"You said luckiest guy in the world – so prove it to me. Beg." You gestured to the floor, adding, "On your knees."

"I don't think..." He trailed off and you could see Bucky in the corner of your eye trudging across the room since he noticed someone was talking to you, but you were done anyway, so you prayed he didn't leave the food behind.

"Yeah," You huffed smugly, "That's what I thought."

He muttered something under his breath and then he was gone, so you just rolled your eyes, turning to be met with the hard chest of the super soldier.

"Whoa." You chuckled and tried to meet his eyes, but he was busy using then to send a cold glare to the guy who bothered you until said guy left the place entirely.