Welcome to Dark Honey, where we share spicy short stories for adults. Escape inside a world of romance and fantasy while you close your eyes, relax, and listen to the next episode

I had always believed there was a difference between dating someone and choosing someone. Dating was movement, it was curiosity. It was seeing who made me laugh over tacos on a Tuesday, who remembered I hated olives, and who noticed when I tied my running shoes tighter before crossing a busy street.

Choosing someone, that was permanent, and I wasn't ready for permanent. Mike knew that, at least I thought he did. We'd been out together enough that I could picture his smile before I saw it. I knew he ordered burgers medium rare and always gave his fries away after claiming he wasn't hungry.

I knew he [00:01:00] laughed with his whole body instead of just his mouth. But we never promised each other exclusivity. No expectations, no labels, just possibilities, which is exactly why I accepted Charlie's invitation to Riverside Social. Riverside Social was one of those places that wasn't quite a bar, but it wasn't fully a restaurant either.

It was somewhere in between, where exposed brick met warm amber lights, , polished wood tables circled a wide dance floor, and a DJ slowly transformed the room after dinner into something louder and younger. It felt alive. The smell of grilled steak drifted through the rooms with hints of citrus cocktails and cedar from the polished bar.

Glasses clinked, conversations layered together into a comfortable hum. Charlie was already halfway through his second bourbon before our appetizers arrived.

I noticed. I brushed it off at first. People loosened up differently. Some laughed [00:02:00] more, some talked more. Charlie simply expanded. Every story became larger, every joke became louder, every opinion became absolute. I found myself smiling politely more than genuinely.

He leaned closer across the table. "You know," he said, "you're even prettier than your pictures." I thanked him. It was easier than correcting him, because pretty wasn't something I spent much time thinking about. People usually called me sporty. The blonde bob I kept tucked behind one ear was practical, not glamorous.

My shoulders were firm from years of swimming and weekend climbing trips, and my legs carried the quiet strength of someone who preferred trails over treadmills. I had kind eyes, at least that's what people told me.

I hoped kindness was enough. Charlie ordered another drink, then another. The room gradually shifted as the evening settled [00:03:00] in. Servers cleared dinner plates while colored lights began drifting lazily across the dance floor. Somewhere near the booth behind us, the DJ tested bass levels that rolled softly through the floorboards.

That's when I felt it, the strange sensation of being watched. Not in a frightening way, but in a familiar one. I turned and immediately wish I hadn't. Mike. He stood across the restaurant beside a high-top table with three friends, wearing a plain blue T-shirt that fit comfortably across his shoulders and gently worn blue jeans.

His short black hair looked exactly the way it always did, simple, neat, effortless. Then there were those eyelashes, ridiculously long. The kind women secretly envied because they belonged on someone who modeled expensive cologne instead of someone who spent Saturday mornings helping friends move furniture.

His expression froze for half a heartbeat. Surprise, [00:04:00] then confusion, then something quieter, recognition. Our eyes met. Neither of us smiled, and neither of us waved, because what exactly were we? Nothing had changed. Neither of us had broken any promises, but still, my stomach tightened. Why did I feel guilty?

Mike knew we weren't exclusive, but yet it was awkward, especially because I was out with a guy like Charlie. He was totally the opposite of Mike. He reminded me of a gym bro or frat boy stuck in the 2000s, complete with a backwards hat and barbed wire tattoo on his bicep. Charlie kept talking. I couldn't remember a single word he'd said.

I I glanced back across the room once. Mike wasn't staring anymore, thank goodness. He was talking with his friends. I let out a breath, not even realizing that I'd been holding one in. I looked back again.

[00:05:00] Damn it. He wasn't talking. He was looking this way again, just watching. I swear I could read his thoughts. I'm sure he was thinking, "What in the world is Mia doing out with twenty ten Nick Lachey?" It should have annoyed me, but instead, I became strangely aware of myself, of how close Charlie was sitting, of how often Charlie touched my arm, and of how little I wanted him to.

Another drink arrived. Charlie didn't need encouragement. By now, I could see his face getting redder and a glassiness form in his eyes. His laugh became sharp around the edges. . His voice rose louder than everyone else's. People started looking. I felt heat creep into my cheeks.

"Let's dance," he announced as he tried to grab my arm. I quickly put my hands in my lap. "I'm okay here." "Come on." "I'm really fine." He rolled his eyes dramatically before collapsing back into the booth. [00:06:00] "You're no fun." I smiled politely again. My smile was beginning to hurt. Across the room, Mike had noticed. I could feel it somehow, not only because he was staring constantly, but because every time Charlie became louder, Mike's attention drifted back, as though he couldn't quite convince himself everything was okay.

I wanted to tell him it was, except I wasn't even sure I believed it myself. Charlie finished another drink, and his words started blending together. "Hey." "Hey," I said to Charlie. "Maybe you should slow down a bit. How about some water?"

"Oh, you're worried about me, aren't you?" To my horror, he leaned close enough that I could smell whiskey before I felt his hand behind my neck. He moved to kiss me. Instinctively, I turned my face away. His lips brushed my cheek instead. [00:07:00] For one impossible second, silence existed between us. Then his expression changed.

"What?" He laughed. " "I right now, Charlie." His smile disappeared. "So you've been leading me on?" "No." "Ah, come on." Charlie was so loud that people nearby began noticing. I hated scenes.

I said, "Not right now." My voice got firm and clear. His voice hardened and a nasty smile spread across his face. "You think you're too good?" I looked down at the table. Here we go, I thought to myself.

I was trying to remember all of my best communication skills so that I stood my ground, yet didn't anger this drunk, unreasonable Nick Lachey wannabe. I didn't say that. He laughed again, only this laugh wasn't funny. It was cruel. "You're acting like some little princess." I stood up.

I was [00:08:00] over this. "I'm going to leave, and you should call a cab." He stood up faster. "Oh, now you're offended?" Every pair of eyes nearby seemed to turn toward us. I wished the floor would swallow me. Then Charlie said something that made my stomach drop, a name, a nasty name. . It was ugly and dismissive, and I'm sure he said it to embarrass me, but I only got more angry.

But before I could answer, I heard a voice behind me. "Mia." I knew the voice instantly. Mike. He was calm and steady. He stepped in front of me, giving me space while quietly placing himself between Charlie and me. He gave Charlie a serious look. "You should go home, man." Charlie laughed. "Oh?" Mike's face never changed.

He looked serious but calm. "I think you've had enough tonight." Charlie puffed himself up. "This doesn't concern you." "It does now." There was an anger [00:09:00] in Mike's voice, but even though I knew Mike was calm, I wasn't sure what Charlie was going to do.

I was calculating the odds of Charlie backing off, drinking some water, and calling an Uber versus him doing something stupid. It took about two seconds to see that Charlie was going the stupid route. I started looking for the exits just in case drunk Charlie decided to go full-on idiot and start a bar brawl. "Your boyfriend?" Mike didn't answer. Charlie took another step towards Mike, then he swung. Everything happened so fast.

Mike shifted sideways almost effortlessly. Charlie's momentum carried him forward. Mike redirected the arm instead of striking back, turning smoothly and capturing Charlie's wrist and shoulder in one controlled motion.

Charlie's balance disappeared as Mike applied a precise standing arm lock. Charlie winced, suddenly unable to move without making things worse for himself. No punches, no shouting, no grand display, just [00:10:00] control. The room became astonishingly quiet, and I looked at Mike.

That was impressive, and I felt a small flutter in my belly. I didn't know Mike could move like that. Mike leaned in just enough for Charlie to hear, "I don't want to hurt you, but you're done." Charlie muttered something under his breath.

Mike released him immediately. Charlie stumbled backwards, rubbing his shoulder. Humiliation flushed across his face. He looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Have fun walking home." Then he disappeared through the front door. Mike asked the security guard at the entrance to make sure Charlie didn't drive home and gave him a set of keys.

I instantly recognized them as Charlie's and wondered what kind of ninja magic Mike knew to have swiped his keys from his pocket. The restaurant slowly breathed again. Conversations resumed. Music returned. People looked away.

My heartbeat didn't. Mike turned toward [00:11:00] me. "Are you okay?" Three words, nothing dramatic, yet somehow they landed more deeply than anything Charlie had said this evening. Because he wasn't asking to impress anyone. He genuinely wanted to know. And I suddenly noticed things about Mike that I hadn't allowed myself to before.

The way his blue T-shirt stretched lightly across a fit frame that looked earned instead of advertised. The strength in his forearms after holding Charlie without hurting him. The gentleness that remained even while ending a fight. Strength without cruelty.

Confidence without ego. Something inside me shifted. I had spent weeks wondering whether Mike was too nice. Now I understood. He was safe. He didn't have to put on a big show because he already knew he could protect me, and somehow that was infinitely more attractive.

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