He sighed and his shoulders sagged slightly. “Okay.”
There was an awkward silence, but I’d learned that there were two ways to guarantee Sebastian’s good humor – and sex was off the menu.
“Do you want to go find somewhere to eat?”
He gave a small smile.
“Yeah, I was hoping you’d say that. Do you feel like Italian?”
“Oh, very funny. You should be on ‘Saturday Night Live’.”
We wandered through the crowded streets, trying to enjoy the party atmosphere. I began to relax – a little.
“What about that place over there because…?”
Suddenly, I was shoved from behind and I nearly lost my balance. Sebastian caught my elbow but my camera strap had been tugged off my shoulder.
“My camera!”
I pointed at the fleeing figure but Sebastian was already off the blocks and running. The would-be thief got perhaps a hundred yards down the road before Sebastian tackled him, knocking him to the ground.
By the time I got there, the man had blood pouring down his face from where Sebastian had punched him: more than once, by the look of him.
“Sebastian, no!” I gasped, as I ran up behind him.
At the sound of my voice, he uncurled his fist and stood up, handing my camera back to me. An angry crowd had started to gather, and without knowing what had happened, their sympathies were with the bleeding man.
“We’d better get out of here,” Sebastian muttered.
“What about the police?” I gasped, my eyes mesmerized by the blood fountaining from the man’s nose.
“Fuck them!” he snorted, and grabbed my hand, towing me through the ring of people who were watching the show with grim fascination. There were a few angry voices aimed at our backs, but no one tried to stop us.
Sebastian darted down a side-alley, pulling me after him and a moment later, we emerged into a wide piazza. I began to breathe normally again, but I was feeling shaky. I knew it was a combination of an adrenaline rush on top of an empty stomach.
“Are you okay, Caro?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, weakly.
He didn’t look convinced.
“Come on,” said Sebastian. “You should eat something.”
I nodded, and didn’t argue when he led us into a small café that looked like a fifties diner, with high stools ranged along a Formica bar.
“Thank you for saving my camera,” I said, quietly.
Sebastian looked surprised, then pleased. “I was waiting for you to chew me out for hitting that guy.”
“Well, I’m glad you stopped punching him when you did, obviously, but I’m very fond of my camera. I worked hard to afford to buy it. Thanks, Chief.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Caro,” he said, shaking his head.
I didn’t know what he meant, but right there and then, I didn’t really care either. I reached over and took his hand. “How are your knuckles?”
He chuckled quietly. “Much better now,” he said, running his thumb over the back of my hand.
The waitress sauntered over to take our order and I could see her taking a keen interest in Sebastian. He saw the direction of my gaze and smirked at me.
“Not my type,” he whispered.
“I’m glad to hear it. She’s not mine, either.”
For just a moment, Sebastian was caught off balance, then he smiled wickedly at me.
“Not interested in three-ways?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, casually. “Do you have friends in the Marines who are as cute as you?”
He frowned. “No. I don’t.”
I laughed. I’d finally won a round of verbal teasing. Things were looking up.
Over dinner, we began to talk naturally with each other again. Sebastian told me more about his life in the Marines and the work that he did – although I sensed there were things he couldn’t tell me, as well.