Page 39 of Clubs

Page List


Font:  

There’s a large walk-in closet and a bathroom with a shower that’s just as large.

I throw my bag on the bed and make my way back down the stairs. I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I tried. Adrenaline flows through my blood.

My mind runs in circles as I try to relive what happened tonight. It was the most fun I’ve ever had, even if it was with a man who probably wants me dead.

His friend, Max, seems like a genuine guy. He wears an expression of pain on his face like an accessory, but he smiles brightly with his eyes.

Stepping down the stairs, I walk into the living room. I turn on the TV, putting on Russian subtitles while I pull a blanket up to my chin and crumple a pillow under my head.

My eyes begin to feel scratchy from lack of sleep, but I open them wide when I see Mikhail leaning against the wall staring at me.

“You know ... that’s a little creepy,” I say, exhausted.

He looks down and shakes his head, trying to fight the smile that tugs on his lips. “What’re you doing out here? It’s one in the morning.”

“Watching TV. You have eyes, don’t you?”

“Kroshka,” he warns.

I choose to ignore him because he isn’t calling me by my name. He nods at the realization and pushes off the wall. He takes a seat next to me, lifting my legs onto his lap. Pushing the blanket off my feet, he takes his thumbs and kneads the bottom of my heel. I didn’t realize how sore my feet were from dancing tonight, but why is he doing this? Mikhail isn’t the sort of kind person who thinks about other people’s pain before his own.

He doesn’t give; he only takes.So what is this?

My arms lift above my head while I enjoy the massage for as long as it’ll last. I don’t want to take his kindness for granted.

“Sloane.” He calls my name.

“Yeah?” I ask, keeping my eyes directed on him with purpose.

His jaw clenches and he looks over at me with his head tilted. “Was tonight your first night out?”

I think about all the times I’ve left the house before now, only to realize I’ve only left to go to my brother’s matches. If it weren’t for Ruslan, I never would have left the house. But I’m glad I did. While I might be here, I’m glad I don’t feel claustrophobic anymore.

“Well, besides going to the ring with my brother, yes.”

“And did you enjoy yourself?” His eyes glisten under the soft light.

“I think I did, yeah. What did we even go there for?”

He takes out a small orange envelope from his pocket and waves it in the air effortlessly. “Was it Max who gave you that?” I ask.

He nods. “When I first arrived.”

A look of shock covers my face. “I don’t even remember that. What’s in it?”

It’s as if my question offends him in a way. The smug smile that once spoke of his emotion is washed away as if it never existed. He reaches across the table and takes his drink into his hand. I become impatient when he ignores me for a while.

“Normally, when someone asks a question, you’re supposed to answer them. Why aren’t you answering me?”

His thumb traces circles on my thigh. “Why the hell are you talking so much?” he asks with a deep, alluring voice and leaves to go into the kitchen.

I flip him the bird. He deserves it.

Mikhail has no reason to be a dick about anything, but he is. If he wants to get angry about nothing, I can too.

“This house is made of reflections, Sloane. You’d be better off showing me the finger behind closed doors if you don’t want to deal with the consequences of your actions,” he says with his back to me.

The nerve this man has drives me insane. I sit up from the couch and inch my legs closer to my chest. “You know, some day you’ll go far in life, and I hope you stay there.”


Tags: Kyra Irene Romance