Page 9 of Twilight Sins

“I’m not drunk,” he slurs. His eyes roll around like loose marbles in his sockets.

“You’re blitzed,” I snap. “Which would actually make a lot more sense. You’re absolutely the kind of guy Kayla would have set me up with. She has terrible taste.”

I wouldn’t usually insult someone to their face. I’ve made it through countless godawful dates with nothing but serene smiles and way too much forgiveness. But I’m mad now. I was having a good time. Mostly. Now, this guy is ruining it.

“Listen, sir…” This guy is not a sir, but I feel bad for being mean. Even if he’s so drunk he won’t remember it in the morning. “You’re drunk. You overheard our conversation and are trying to pull a prank. You’re Sergey. Ha ha. Very funny. Now, could you please leave and?—”

Suddenly, he lunges forward and grabs my arm. His palm is sweaty as it slides around my bicep. He jerks me towards him. “I’m not leaving without the date I was promised. You’re here to see me and?—”

There’s a flash of movement and the man lets go of my arm. I didn’t even see him move, but now, my actual date is standing between me and the drunk man. His hand is on Fake Sergey’s chest.

“Don’t lay a fucking hand on her unless you want to lose it,” he growls.

Violence has never been a turn-on for me. Emotional regulation is sexy. Using words instead of fists is how adults handle problems.

But now, there’s a wall of muscle between me and a possible threat, and my libido is suddenly singing a very different tune. Turns out having a man protect you from danger is really fucking hot.

Who knew?

“I’m not going to hurt her,” the guy protests. “You’re the one who stole my date. You some kind of serial killer or something?”

“You have no fucking clue what kind of killer I am.”

I shiver. A chill moves through me. I have no clue how this drunk guy isn’t backing down. Maybe if he was sober, he’d realize he doesn’t have a shot in hell of winning this fight.

People are starting to stare now. As much as I wouldn’t mind watching Sergey haul this guy out and lay him flat on the sidewalk, I want to finish our date. So I stand up and rest a hand on his shoulder. “He isn’t worth it, Sergey. The manager can throw him out. He’s been overserved, clearly.”

“He isn’t Sergey!” the guy argues. “I’m Sergey. You’re supposed to be here with me, you stupid?—”

“Watch it,” the first Sergey snarls. “Watch your mouth when you talk to her.”

The man wilts slightly, but he still doesn’t back down. “I’m the real Sergey. Kayla told me to meet you here at seven, but I got… held up. I was a little late, but?—”

“You were an hour late,” the first Sergey says. “It’s eight o’clock. You were going to make her sit and wait for you for an entire fucking hour. Do you not know the meaning of respect?”

His words wash over me all at once.

He isn’t denying that this guy is Sergey. He isn’t claiming that he’s the real Sergey. He is… He’s…

He’s confirming his story.

I look up at Sergey—er, Not-Sergey—and his face is creased in a frown. Yep, still handsome. “You deserve better than this fuck-up, Luna.”

“Who are you?” I ask in a barely-there whisper.

He doesn’t respond, but the real Sergey shrinks away. “I canceled plans to be here. A sure thing. Now, I wasted a whole night on a slut who can’t wait a few minutes.”

“I told you to watch your fucking mouth.” Handsome Stranger Who Is Not Sergey grabs Drunk Guy Who Is Sergey by the collar of his wrinkled shirt and hauls him towards the door. “I’ll give you one chance to get out of here. Get moving while you still have functioning legs, mudak.”

They both disappear out into the night. I’m left there, stupid and dumbfounded. All I can think is, What just happened? I saw him through the window. He had dark hair and a nice face, just like Kayla said. It’s not a bulletproof identification system, but there’s nothing attractive about the real Sergey.

Then again, I’m sure Sergey could pass as handsome if you take away the aggression and the alcohol… and maybe if the picture is kind of blurry.

But I called this terrifying titan Sergey. I walked into the restaurant and stood in front of him and apologized for being late. I call him by his name.

And he said…

What’s your name?

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