Page 50 of Breaking Away

Behind me, Hughes cracks open a beer. “Yeah, he’s not into her at all.”

20

KAVI

Lokhov appears from nowhere.

The cute guy in glasses gulps.

“You have somewhere else to be,” says Lokhov in that rude way of his.

Without looking at me, Glasses Guy and his friends shirk back into the crowd, taking with them my dancing invitation. Chased away by whatlookslike an impudent, brutish six-foot-four boyfriend with darkness inked all over his arms. If I didn’t know better, I would call him territorial. But I do know better.

Sonya snorts before getting approached by her own suitor. With a quick glance to check in on me, (I nod), she follows him to the bar.

Turning back to Lokhov, I glare. “Why did you scare off that poor guy? Don’t tell me.Youwant to dance?”

“No.”

I groan, looking around for other men who will spin me around. My lip curls in determination. I don’t know what changed, but alcoholic bravery could be kicking in. Glasses Man wanted me. Others might, too. And, sure, I’ve told Tyler we are over, but I should act like it, instead of chickening out by nottelling anyone where I am tonight, afraid of his and my parent’s judgment.

That and maybe I’m wondering, what’s the appeal? Why did Tyler want to beopen? What does it feel like to pursue other people?

(Am I thinking that?! I don’t know. This feels chaotic.)

Before I can leave Lokhov, his arm catches me.

“Where are you going?” he demands.

“To look for a partner.”

“No.”

“Excuse you?”

“We’ll dance,” he sneers.

“No one is twisting your arm!”

If anyone’s been twisted, it’s me. He’s moving forward, pulling me along with him.

“Why?” I ask when we finally come to a stop somewhere on the dance floor. It’s packed enough so we blend into a crowd, but not overly. There’s no fighting with strangers' limbs. Above us is a ribcage of dazzling LED lights strung on the roof.

“You want to dance,” says Lokhov as if that answers everything.

No longer wearing a suit jacket, I’ve got an uninterrupted view of his top half.

I bet women have been staring since he came down, but every passing minute I sense more eyes getting added. He cuts such an impressive figure. So painfully attractive, but in a mean way. The personification of a handprint left after you get spanked. Bossy eyes. Flat scowl. Full lips. His direct attention almost hurts to experience in this hazily lit club.

What’s worse? His sleeves are rolled up.

I’m in trouble.I shouldn’t wonder what it’s like to be closer to him. There should be no desire to feel that notched mouth. Or tocurl my fingers into the dark hair on the nape of his neck. I can’t be tempted to nibble on the spot right under his chin.

His grumpy face peers down at me.

I rustle, blinking. “Why are we doing this? You’re acting like I’ve stuck toothpicks in your balls forcing you into this, whereas the other guy would have done this willingly.”

Lokhov’s lean muscles strain against his shirt sleeves. His voice drops to a gravel-whisper. “That’s not the issue.”

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