Page 16 of Marked & Bred By the Bratva
My brain stutters. “Uh… yeah. Just a little dizzy. I think I slept weird.”
“You don’t look too good,” he replies bluntly.
I huff out a laugh. “Thanks.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t mean it like that. Just… you know.”
His voice is rough and commanding. And his gorgeous, dark, unreadable eyes don’t flinch away from mine. It’s like he’s holding me under a spell. Captive.
“I think I’m just tired,” I reply, tucking a curl behind my ear. “New place. Weird sleep. You know.”
He nods once, still studying me closely. “You eating?”
I blink. “What?”
“You look like you haven’t eaten today.”
“I—” I fold my arms. “Are you always this direct?”
His stony expression doesn’t change. “Only when I’m right.”
God, he’s weird. And hot. And huge. And standing really freaking close.
“I was just going to walk to the store to grab something.”
“I’ll go with you.” Not a question. Okay then…
He just turns and starts walking, expecting me to follow.
And I do. Because what else am I supposed to do?
We walk in silence. Not awkward. Just… charged. I keep glancing up at him. His broad shoulders. All those tattoos I want to study, and touch, and maybe taste… The veins in his forearms. The thin layer of hair covering his golden skin. The way he holds himself. All long legs, big, muscular thighs, and huge everything.
He glances down at me. “You don’t go out much.”
That makes me laugh. “What, you’ve been watching me?”
The corner of his mouth twitches in what could maybe, with a lot of imagination, be constructed as a ghost of a smile. “Maybe.”
I go quiet. Because that smile? It shoots straight to my stomach. And then lower.
What the hell is wrong with me?
At the store, Lev doesn’t say much. Just grabs a protein bar and water, and stands at the cashier. I put my stuff on the counter and reach for my phone, but before I can scan it to pay, he drops money on the counter, grabs my grocery bag, and walks out, leaving me stunned. After a few seconds, I smile and wave at the bodega guy, who did not do any of his usual flirty shit in front of Lev, and run to catch up after him.
“Thanks, you didn’t have to…”
He just shakes his head, waving my thanks off like paying for my food was no big deal.
He surprises me by saying, “be smart. Lotta weirdos in this city.”
I crane my head back to glance up at him, smiling teasingly. “You a weirdo, Lev?”
He rumbles low and slow, “would you be scared if I was?”
I don’t answer.
Because my body’s response is, no. My body is very not scared.
