Page 56 of Pitiful Lies

At least, I don’t think so.

Don’t you dare fall in love with him, I warn myself.

“Would you like a drink, Koukla?” Angel turns his attention to me, and I freeze.

His blue eyes are so pale and light, and all his focus on me, and fuck me, I wonder if maybe I’m not already halfway there.

“Little Doll?” he prompts, his thick eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah. Sure. Um, surprise me.” I nod as I squeeze my hands in my lap.

Angel nods his head, and one of the guards walks over. He gives them our order and I think he got me a lemon drop martini, which I am partial to, so I smile my thanks.

The music is loud, but it’s good. The six of us are sitting, talking, and having a good time. At least, the women are. The men seem on alert, but I get it.

This is their place and since they are who they are, shit happens.

I notice there are more security guards, more of Angel’s men, on the floor than usual and I think it must have something to do with the enemies he mentioned earlier.

But they know how to do their jobs and to anyone else, they look like regular security and not a bunch of soldiers for the Vipers' crime syndicate.

I swallow.

Everything about Angel screams danger. But I can’t help myself. Maybe I got a thing for bad boys. Or maybe it’s just him.

Funny. I come from an average, middle class, warm, loving, and nosy as fuck family. It’s easy to get lost in all the noise.

I am not familiar with violence. At least, not up close and personal. And it should bug me that Angel is a lawless, brutish man.

But it doesn’t. He has never been violent towards me. In fact, quite the opposite.

My friends seem fine with their men, and their lifestyles. Maybe I’m just overthinking everything. And I am tired of doing that.

I want to feel good. To have fun. To enjoy the moment.

I’m thinking if moments are all Angel has to offer, maybe I should take them while I can. Squirrel them away for a rainy day.

Maybe Tennyson is right. I think back to my college lit class. Maybe it is better to have loved than to have never experienced love at all.

Oh my God. I am getting morose. That’s it. No more thinking tonight.

I finish my drink, I feel loose and relaxed.

“Let’s dance!” Maria shouts, and suddenly I’m being pulled to the dance floor.

I look at Angel and see him watching me, and I bite my lip.

“Yeah,” I say, and I think I am ready for this. I hope I am.

“Let’s dance.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN-ANGEL

Itake every inch of the room in as I watch Giselle move away from me.

I hate it.

I want her next to me, by my fucking side.

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