Decline his offer and leave the bar
From Create Your Own Story
You set the bottle back on the counter before it’s even half empty, the glass making a soft, final sound against the wood. Adam’s fingers are still warm where they rest near your elbow, but you shift just enough to break the contact. “Tempting,” you say lightly, meeting his gaze, “but I’m gonna pass.” The grin on his face falters—not gone, just tightened, like someone pulling a mask back into place. “Pass?” he repeats, incredulous. “On this?” He gestures vaguely between himself and the world at large. “Yeah,” you shrug, forcing a small smile. “Not really my scene. I should head out.” For a beat, Adam just watches you, hazel eyes narrowing as he searches for something—hesitation, regret, maybe a crack he can slip back through. When he doesn’t find it, his jaw sets. “Suit yourself,” he says, lifting his beer and taking a long pull. The earlier warmth in his voice has cooled. “Guess some people don’t know when they’re being handed a good time.” Tony glances between the two of you, expression neutral but alert. You slide off the barstool, the wicker scraping softly against the floor. “Thanks for the drink,” you add, nodding to Adam. “Seriously.” He snorts under his breath as you turn away. “Fuckin’ tease,” he mutters—not quite quiet enough. You pause for half a second, then decide it’s not worth engaging.
Tony’s polishing rag stills mid-swipe.
“Hey,” he says calmly, but there’s steel under it. He turns just enough to look at Adam, dark eyes steady beneath the ponytail of long dreadlocks. “Watch your mouth.”
Adam scoffs, twisting on his stool. “Relax, man. I was just—”
“I said watch it,” Tony repeats, firmer now. The easy bartender smile is gone. “Not how we talk to people here.”
The air tightens. A couple of nearby conversations dip, then fade altogether.
Adam exhales sharply through his nose. He reaches into the wallet , pulls out a folded stack of notes, and slaps them onto the counter beside the empty bottles. “Whatever,” he mutters.
He pushes off the bar, standing. “Your loss, kid,” he adds, throwing you one last look — more annoyance than interest now.
Tony just stares at him.
Adam hesitates, jaw working, then grabs his sunglasses from the bar. He turns and walk out and along the beach.
You linger at the end of the counter, eyes drifting to the crumpled bills Adam left behind. Then you look at Tony.
“Sorry,” you say quietly. “Didn’t mean to cause any drama.”
Tony scoops up the notes and tucks them into the register without a second thought. “You didn’t,” he says. “That was all him.”
He meets your gaze and gives you a small, reassuring nod. “You handled it fine.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Still… thanks.”
Tony’s mouth curves into a faint smile as he goes back to wiping the counter. “Anytime.”
thank Tony for his help again and leave the bar
