Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
After a while, he leans closer.
“It’s loud in here,” he murmurs. “Let’s go for a walk.”
I hesitate. Definitely more dangerous.
Still, I want to be kissed. I decided I would be. Secretly. Recklessly. Like I’m a woman someone wants, and not just a girl someone wants to protect.
I glance toward Mia, trying again to signal her, to reassure myself she’s got my back, but she doesn’t look up.
I clench my fists. It is hard to hear in here, and it’s awkward to have a first kiss at a bar.
“Maybe.”
I’m considering. I look to the door, half-decided, when I feel the weight of someone’s gaze on me.
At the far corner of the bar, hidden in shadow, a man sits with a drink cradled in his large, rough hand. I can’t make out his face, just the broad, tense set of his shoulders. Stillness, like he hasn’t fidgeted a day in his life.
And he’s watching me. He isn’t even pretending not to.
And I can feel his eyes burning through me.
Me.
Why?
I look down again and note how big and thick his hands are, wrapped around what I can now see is a full pint of Guinness. Condensation rolls down the side of the glass, but it looks untouched. A prop? He just stares, like he’s lost in thought, or maybe pretending to be.
I swallow hard, watching him.
Does he know Rafail? Does he know me?
I want to believe that this is only in my head, that I’m safe, and that no one recognizes Rafail Kopolov’s baby sister.
But I know better.
“It’s going to get busy in here soon,” the guy next to me pushes. I don’t even know his name.
If Rafail could see me now, he’d lose his shit. My oldest brother has always been more father than sibling. He became my guardian when I was just a child, and I’ve never disobeyed him.
Well. Until I started sneaking out.
Until I started feeling crushed under the weight of expectation.
I grit my teeth and nod, then push myself to standing and turn my back on the man in the corner.
We walk hand in hand down the quiet street, making small talk about the last movie we saw. Turns out he doesn’t like thrillers the way I do, and he definitely doesn’t read the romance novels I inhale, but we have a few things in common.
Still, this is boring the fuck out of me. Is this what women like? He’s hot, he’s nice enough, I guess… but I’m disinterested. He’s too nice, too eager to say things he seems to want me to hear, and for some reason, I keep staring at how soft his hands are.
We’re approaching a streetlight when I suddenly realize I don’t have my phone with me.
“Where’s my phone?” I mutter, patting my pockets. “Strange. I always have it on me.” I sigh. “I have to go back to the bar,” I tell him. “I think I left my phone.”
He grins and winks. “You didn’t. I’ve got it right here.”
He opens his palm and shows me my phone, resting there like a prize.
A chill of unease slides down my spine. How did he get that? I never let it out of my sight, the one concession to Rafail that makes sense to me.
I swallow hard.
“That’s mine,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Can I have it back, please?”
“I’ll give it to you,” he says with a wink, “in exchange for a kiss.”
My heart jumps hard. I’m not sure if it’s excitement or fear. I wanted a kiss.
Didn’t I?
But now that he’s closer, everything shifts. His teeth are slightly crooked. He smells faintly of garlic and onions. My attraction drains away fast.
Have I been that protected? That sheltered? Is this what it's like, meeting a man in the wild?
Am I broken?
“I’d like my phone back, please,” I say again, softer this time. “I’m not ready to kiss you.”
He crowds me suddenly, pressing me into a darkened doorway. Above us, the clouds shift, moonlight breaking through in a silvery wash across the sky.
“I bought you a drink,” he says, with a tinge of annoyance. “And you won’t even give me a kiss?”
Don’t guys buy girls drinks? Was that some weird expectation I didn’t know about?
He leans in, mouth slightly parted, and for one crazy, wild second, I’m convinced he’s a werewolf. That he’s about to bare his teeth and bite me, or throw back his head and howl into the night.
I shiver.
I’ve read too many books.
“No,” I say more firmly. “Not now.”
My voice leaves room for a maybe, but that doesn’t matter. Not now. Not like this.
I put more force in my tone. “Give me my phone.”
But he doesn’t. His eyes flash at me, and I realize even though he’s not that much bigger than I am, I’m small and alone, and I’m not sure I could get away that easily. And where would I even go?