Page 3 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
She’s too young for me, and I have no intention of taking anyone home tonight. I’m just here to unwind. A few drinks, and I’ll head home. But try as I might, I can’t stop myself from watching her, wishing I could hear the nervous laugh that bubbles out of her when one of her friends loops her arm around her shoulder and starts to dance.
After a moment, she peels herself free from the other woman’s drunken dancing and takes another step back from the group, looking toward the door. Counting the seconds until she can leave, I muse.
A man steps into the space the friend vacated. He’s got that frat boy look, right down to the polo shirt and pastel shorts, and my grip tightens on my glass when he starts to flirt with her. Who does this guy think he is? It’s obvious she’s not interested, but he’s not getting the message. Her body language, which was already uncomfortable, is now screaming for an escape.
I get to my feet and set the empty glass down on the bar, cutting through the crowd to get to her.Mine.The thought flashes through my mind so quickly that I barely register it.
Frat boy is moving in closer, leaning in like he’s going to touch her hip, and she steps to one side to avoid his touch. He doesn’t give up. What a creep. She’s too polite to tell him off, too timid, and the boy is taking it as a sign she’s interested.
Her eyes dart up to meet mine when I cut in between them, angling myself in a way that forces the frat boy to take a step back. Fuck, she’s even more gorgeous up close. Rosy skin spattered with freckles from the sun, and those dimples are back, with a nervous smile tugging at her lips.
Mine.
Chapter 2 - Talia
This is so not my scene. I don’t know why I let my friends talk me into coming out tonight. It’s too noisy, too crowded, tooeverything,and the moment we walk in the door, I remember why I always say no when they ask. There’s nothing about the thumping, electronic dance music that appeals to me, and the floor is distinctly sticky.
It’s too late to back out now; we’re in, and the other girls are immediately scattering to the dance floor while Sarah goes to the bar to order a round of drinks. A night out seemed like a good idea at the time that I’d said yes. After all, my brothers are out of town, and I never get the chance to do anything like this when they’re around. So, with a rare night to myself and a group of friends who insist that clubbing is the most fun thing ever, here I am.
I take a sip of the cosmopolitan Sarah hands me and let her drag me out onto the dance floor. Bodies press in from all sides. It’s claustrophobic and too hot, my skin immediately dampening, but I plaster a smile to my face and sway with the rest.
“You hate this, don’t you?” Sarah puts her mouth near my ear so I can hear her over the music.
“No, no! This is so much fun.” I take another big gulp of my Cosmo, knowing at some point the alcohol will hit and this will become, if not fun, at least tolerable.
Sarah snorts a laugh. “You’re a terrible liar, Talia.”
“It’s not really my thing,” I admit, stumbling when someone bumps into me from behind. It’s Amy, and she’s locked into a dual make-out and grinding with a guy I’ve never seen before.
Sarah pulls me away from the near coital situation. “Well, maybe we can change that. Amy didn’t snag the only cute guy here tonight. When’s the last time you hooked up with anyone?”
I pretend to think about it, but I already know the answer—way too long, thanks to those aforementioned overprotective brothers. It’d be one thing if they were concerned about me meeting the wrong sort of man, like normal brothers. That’d almost be sweet. This is different. This is a Bratva thing.
Being a Popov means there’s always a risk when I go out, and where I see a potential boyfriend, my brothers see a potential kidnapper or worse. It puts a major damper on my dating life.
“A while,” I admit, downing the last of my Cosmo. It’s going to take a lot more than one to make this place tolerable, I realize. “But I’m not looking for that tonight.”
Despite being part of a Miami crime family, I’m not really into the whole nightlife underworld scene. I prefer a sunrise on the beach with my surfboard or a walk through the botanical garden. Something outdoors, and preferably during daylight hours. If I were home right now, there’s a pretty good chance I’d already be in bed. Maybe not asleep, but curled up with a good book.
All around me, my friends dance with strangers and down drinks. I’ve never seen this side of them before. Unlike me, they’re completely capable of letting loose, and I feel a sudden, strong yearning to be more like them. To fit in. To dance like that, to let a stranger hold me, to drink until I can’t see straight.
Instead, I’m an awkward little island among all these revelers, and only Sarah’s efforts keep me from feeling entirely left out. It’s not their fault. They’re great friends, and when we’reat brunch or out on our surfboards, I fit right in. I’m the problem here.
“I’m going to get another drink,” I tell Sarah, determined to give this a fair try. “Do you want another?”
“I’ll come with you,” she says, pressing her way through the writhing masses.
I met Sarah and the other girls at college. Like me, she was studying for a Biology degree, but unlike me, she scored a job in the field right out of school, while my brothers debated whether they could keep me safe if I were working. She got to be hands-on at the wildlife center, living my dream, while I tried to keep busy in the golden cage my brothers had crafted for me.
Bitter? Maybe a little. I order a Cosmo for each of us and then, remembering my intention to loosen up and fit in here, a shot of tequila each.
“What about that guy?” Sarah gestures to a man across the bar with her shot before downing it. “He’s cute.”
“For you?” I ask, following her gesture to a man about our age. He’s cute enough, but not my type. I barely even know what my type is these days. “Go for it, girl, he’d be crazy to turn you down.”
Sarah rolls her eyes and sets her empty shot glass on the bar. I put mine beside hers and feel the pleasant glow of alcohol hit my system. It softens some of the sensory overload and I reach for the Cosmo, seeking more of that.
“Fine, fine, I won’t push. You came out tonight, and that’s a really big step.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the girls. They tow along a few hopeful men with smudges of lipstick on their faces.
