Sam watched her. She was like him, in a certain way, where it was sometimes hard to tell that she was upset about something until something else happened, and then her reaction was just slightly out of proportion. "You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you."
She hadn't admitted that it had anything to do with being jealous or territorial, so he didn't mention it either. It wasn't that he minded it personally so much as he didn't like seeing it upset her. But there was nothing he could do about it, not really; he knew how hard it could be to shake insecurities and instincts that went that deep. And it wasn't as if his own behavior was setting her off. There was no way to be more clear about his lack of interest except to be unnecessarily cruel or violent to someone who paid attention to him, and it wasn't their fault, not really. Not unless they persisted in bothering him when they'd been told off, at least.
He glanced around them, at the club. "I want to get out of here, too," he said. He knew she wasn't talking about their current location. "Out of this club, and out of the city wouldn't be bad either." He reached out, taking both of her hands in his. "Next weekend. Tonight we'll stay and look after things, and next weekend, we'll go away together. To that place in California you told me about."