The crowd separates when everyone looks at Mikhail. They must know who he is, otherwise they wouldn’t move.
We get to the side of the club where the booths are. They all look similar, but there’s a man dancing on one of the tables singing to the song that’s about to blow my eardrums. Mikhail lets go of my hand and grabs onto the stranger’s. He grabs a glass filled with alcohol, and they dance together to “Pursuit of Happiness” by Kid Cudi as if no one’s watching.
Mikhail’s neck falls back while he laughs. The sound is like wind chimes on a windy day.Magical.
The other guy, who I assume is Mikhail’s friend, offers me his hand. I shake my head, but he hops to the ground. He stands behind me and grabs onto my waist, making my body move with his. The man is a fucking giant—he’s even taller than Mikhail.
I feel as if my limbs are on strings, the stranger manipulating the way I move. Even without alcohol, I’m beginning to enjoy my time. I turn to face him. My arms can’t wrap around his shoulders, so I grab onto his hands instead, and he continues to move my body to the music.
“Just let everything go and feel it though your body,” he whispers to me.
Letting myself get caught up in the moment, I smile. The man is obviously drunk off his ass, but I don’t mind. I’ve never been out like this before. I feel a small wave of anxiety wash over me at how many people are here, but the stranger makes me forget. I feel every beat of the music in my body. The effect he has on me is dangerous. I’m able to forget my worries.
Then large arms snake around my waist and pull me back. I can tell by his smell it’s Mikhail. He raises my arms out and hovers his own behind mine. When the stranger takes a large sip of his drink and offers me some, I take it without any worries. I’m having a great time even if I’m with a psycho and his friend.
Mikhail takes my body in his and twirls me in a circle. I laugh uncontrollably.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks in my ear.
I nod in response. It would be hard not to.
I know he’s enjoying himself just as much as I am. The moment he saw his friend, his demeanor shifted.
Mikhail leaves my side and whispers something to his friend. They both laugh and walk back to the table. “Sloane.” He calls for me to follow.
And I do. I slide into the booth and wave my hands above my skin to try to cool down.
“We’re going to need cards,” the stranger says as he pulls some out of his pocket.
“Of course you would,” Mikhail says with a smile.
“And your lady will need a drink.”
Mikhail raises his hand, and a waitress comes over. She leans her entire body into him. She speaks to him in Russian, and it seems she’s flirting with him. His hand lifts to her waist, and I look down. I don’t know why it bothers me so much. I don’t even feel anything for Mikhail. He can do whatever he wants, just not right in front of me.
The stranger pulls me closer to him and brings his mouth to my ear. “Do you know of any games?”
“No, I’ve never played cards.”
He smiles. “We’ll play something simple then.” His voice sounds different from everyone else’s. His complexion is darker, and he has an accent.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Italy, but I live here in New York.”
“For Mikhail?” I ask.
He shrugs. “He’s worth it.”
I make a face at him. If it’s this version of Mikhail, I understand. But the version I’ve been dealing with? I don’t understand how he’s worth anything.
Lifting my eyes to Mikhail, I see the waitress is still here, but with a drink. She must have left without me noticing.
I didn’t want to notice.
“Is it true?” she asks me, her Russian accent strong.
My eyebrows knit together. “Is what true?”