Page 10 of Whiskey Promises
"Nadia!" Zoya Mikhail cries, her sweet voice echoing across the stage like an aria from on high.
Nadia spins, her eyes locking on her baby sister. "Zoya! You're here!"
"Goddamn," I mutter under my breath, my eyes locked on Zoya as she rushes up the steps with her arms flung out wide.She isn't rushing toward me, though. Unfortunately. Her eyes are locked on her sister.
The two of them collide in the center of the stage in an excited ball of laughter and squeals. Nadia is glowing with happiness. And Zoya? Fucking hell, I've never seen anything prettier. The bright smile plastered across her gorgeous face lights her up like the sun. Her hazel eyes actually sparkle as happy laughter spills from her lips.
I discretely adjust my cock, trying not to think about the way those curves felt beneath my hands three months ago. It's a useless attempt. I've thought of nothing but her since she ripped the goddamn rug out from beneath me in the middle of that nightclub and then skipped town like she couldn't wait to get as far away from me as possible.
I should be mad as hell that she kissed me back that night. That's the rational thing to feel, right? She kissed me like she was fucking starving for a taste of me, and it was all a lie. She's seeing someone else.
But that's not what's had me all fucked up in the head, oh no. I'm mad as hell that she isn't mine. That she kisses some other prick the same way she kissed me.
He's the one who gets to put his hands all over her perfect body.
He's the one she thinks about.
It's bullshit. She should be in my bed, wearing my ring.
"Stare any harder and your eyes are going to fall out like some fucking cartoon," Lemmy says, slapping me on the back.
"Fuck off," I mutter, turning a dark scowl on him. "I'm not staring."
"Right." He draws the word out, an amused smirk painted across his face. "And I wasn't balls deep in a pretty little blonde last night, either."
"Jesus Christ." My lip curls in disgust. "Knock it off with that shit, man. No one wants to hear about it." The last thing I need to know is who he's fucking or what they do together. The man is determined to sleep his way through every fan we've got.
That shit isn't me, as much as some people wish it were. I want what my parents have, something real. Something that lasts. I want Zoya Mikhail.
"I'm just saying. You're a piss poor liar." Lemmy holds his hands up, chortling to himself. "You were staring at her the same goddamn way back in Los Angeles a few months ago."
"You don't know what you're talking about," I mutter, my eyes locked on Zoya again. We both know I'm full of shit, though. He was there. He saw me kissing her at the bar. He hasn't stopped giving me shit about it since.
"Mmhmm." Lemmy shakes his head, strolling over to his drums.
I lift my guitar strap over my head and set it on the stand. For a long moment, I just watch Nadia and Zoya whisper back and forth. They look so much alike with their dark hair and hazel eyes, but they're night and day different. Zoya is fiery and full of life. Nadia is sweet and gentle.
My eyes narrow when Zoya shoots me a furtive look over her shoulder and then quickly positions herself with her back to me.
What the hell? Is she trying to ignore me?
Yeah, fuck that noise.
I stomp across the stage toward her, chuckling to myself when she casts another look over her shoulder and sees me coming. She squeaks the same way she did back in Los Angeles, her pretty eyes growing comically wide.
"Jareth, you remember my baby sister, Zoya," Nadia says as soon as she spots me. "She's hanging out with me while we're in town for the show."
"Cool," I say like I wasn't fully aware that Zoya goes to school in Knoxville weeks before our bus rolled into town. Like I haven't been counting down the days to this show. My gaze runs over Zoya again. She's still trying like hell to ignore me, looking everywhere but right at me. Her cheeks are bright pink. Christ, she's beautiful. "What's up, princess?"
"Princess?" Nadia mouths, her eyes wide.
Zoya whips her head in my direction so fast she damn near topples over. The stubborn tilt to her jaw only makes my dick harder.
"Don't call me that," she says.
"Would you prefer queen?" My gaze tangles with hers. "I did tell you that you deserved to be treated like one, didn't I? I mean, after I got you wet and everything." I bet her little prick of a boyfriend doesn't treat her like a queen. He probably doesn't even know what to do with a girl like her.
"Oh my," Nadia whispers, her wide-eyed gaze bouncing between us.
