Chapter 23
ROMAN
Me
I’m outside. You ready?
Evelina
Best. Brother. EVAAAHH!!! :D
Evelina
1 sec
I’m parked in front of the Mercury Theater, after getting Evie's text earlier asking for a ride home from rehearsal. She’s got a rotating roster of drivers—I think it’s Mikhail this week—but I know she gets annoyed always having one of our father’s swarthy, monosyllabic guards hanging around.
I kill time on my phone as I wait, and inevitably find myself on Instagram. Also inevitably, I find myself tapping on Val’s profile.
I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
My face heats, my lip sucking between my teeth as I look at a new post.
Fuck.
He’s lying in a bed I know all too well by now, shirtless, a mug of coffee in his hand as he smirks at the camera in that fucking obscenely sexy way. The caption reads “Rise and shine, carpe fucking diem!!!”
My eyes instantly drop to the comments. Christ, it’s a fucking thirst parade. Half of them point out that he’s alone in bed and offer up various semi-creative ways to help him fix that. The rest are ridiculously over-the-top hungry comments about his body.
For a second, a furious feeling that I hate to admit might be jealousy roars through me. Then, it’s replaced by something else.
Smugness.
Hell yeah that bed is empty aside from him…because I kept him up in it until midnight last night, before I left.
Thirst on that, motherfuckers.
My phone dings with a new text from Evie.
Evelina
sorry! Madame K. wants to talk to me about something!!!
It’s followed by a string of gleeful excited face emojis. I grin.
Me
No problem! Do your thang.
I've heard that Madame Kuzmina is a tyrant when she wants to be. But I also know that when she wants to behead someone, she does so publicly. Her singling Evie out for a chat after rehearsal actually sounds like a good thing.
Evelina
Want to come in? I don't know how long I'll be. Or if you have to go, don’t worry!!
Me
Nah, my day is clear. I’ll come inside. No rush.
The Mercury Theater is a stunning old theater in midtown, at Madison Avenue and East 49th Street. I’ve been here dozens of times to see Evie perform or pick her up after rehearsal, but I’m blown away by the beauty of the place every time.
Today, it appears the company has been rehearsing on stage rather than in the practice studio. Some dancers are still going through movements in various clusters around the stage, with others sitting to the side, cooling down.
“Roman! What up, dude?”
I turn, grinning when I see Miguel walking over. I bump his fist with mine.
“What up, man?”
“Not much. You here to pick up Evie?”
I nod.
“Cool.” Miguel turns and points up past the top balcony, to the small window that I know is Madame Kuzmina’s office. “She’s up in the dragon’s lair.”
I chuckle. “How was today?”
He groans. “Brutal, man. Kuzmina was in a mood. But we had a visitor.” He grins and winks. “If Angela asks, I never said it, but damn, the girl is fine. Russian.” He turns and points.
My jaw goes tight.
“Daria, I think her name is?”
“Dasha,” I growl, my eyes narrowing to where she’s standing at the side of the stage, grinning with sparkles in her eyes, utterly charmed by the hot, shirtless motherfucker with all his tattoos and muscles on display, talking to her like he’s ready to fuck her right there against the curtain.
Val.
“Her name is Dasha,” I say coldly. “Dasha Lukashova.”
Miguel’s brows pinch, and then suddenly his face pales and his eyes go wide.
“Oh fuck…” He looks terrified as he steps away from me. “Shit, dude, I didn’t make the connection. Roman, no disrespect at all, I didn’t mean to say shit like that about your fiancée—”
“All good.” I force a smile as I turn and clap him on the back. “Seriously.”
He smiles weakly. “Beautiful girl you’ve got, man. You’re a lucky guy.”
“Thanks, bud.”
He heads back to the stage, but I just stay in the aisle, glaring at Val as he shamelessly flirts with Dasha.
Suddenly he turns, and his eyes land on me. My vision tunnels as I watch him deliberately drape a thick arm around Dasha’s shoulders.
Then he grins at me.
“Roman!” he calls, beckoning.
Dasha turns, her brows arching in surprise when she sees me. “Hi?” she says, frowning as I stalk toward them.
I climb the stairs at the left of the stage and approach, my eyes firmly on him.
“Hi,” I mutter, finally turning to Dasha. “I'm here to pick up my sister.”
Dasha beams. “You should have been here ten minutes ago. She is fantastic.”
“Taught her everything she knows,” Val sighs deeply, making Dasha giggle.
“Romance—” He stops and turns to Dasha. “Have you heard that nickname people have for this guy? Romance?”
My fiancée laughs, turning to look at me. “Can’t say I know that one.”
“Because of what a romantic charmer he is,” Val grins. “A real lover, this one.”
I turn to level a cold, brittle smile at him. He just beams back.
“Romance, did you know that your girl is a huge ballet fan?”
“I’ve heard,” I say through grit teeth as my venomous gaze drags back to him.
“Roman!”
Evie comes skipping down the aisle, already out of her dance gear, a huge grin on her face. I give her a big hug as she slams into me.
“How was…?”
She pulls away, beaming. “Great. Tell you later.”
She turns to Dasha. “I’m so glad you came by today! Sorry for our artistic director. She’s…”
“Russian?” Dasha says with a light laugh.
“Very,” Evie giggles.
“Hey, if you’re not busy right now…” Dasha shrugs. “Can I buy you a drink or something? To say thanks for inviting me to rehearsal today?”
My sister looks like she’s on cloud nine. “Yeah! I’d love to—” Then she winces as turns to me. “I…”
“Go. Have fun,” I smile.
“You came all the way here…”
“Which wasn’t a big deal at all.”
Dasha glances at me. “Sure you don’t mind if I steal her?”
“Please do.”
She smiles at me. “Okay, thanks.” She turns, and I watch with poison in my eyes as she throws her arms around Val and gives him a big hug. “And thank you so much for being my tour guide today!”
Val looks right at me as he wraps his arms around her. “My pleasure.”
My temple throbs.
Dasha and my sister take off, then I’m standing there alone with the fucker.
“I have a confession.”
I'm still seething as I turn to him. “What.”
Then I’m gasping in surprise as he steps right into my personal space. I step away again and then jolt when I feel empty air beneath my foot. I've almost backed clean off the stage. Val’s hand shoots out, grabbing my shirt and yanking me upright.
“Thanks,” I mumble, turning scarlet.
“Someone’s gotta watch out for you, wreckage.”
I blush even more as I look away. “What was your confession,” I grunt.
“Green looks good on you.”
My eyes snap to his. “Excuse me?”
He grins. “I think Dasha’s got a little crush on me.”
I roll my eyes. “Is that supposed to make me jealous of her?”
Val cocks a brow, his head tilting to the side. “One would think—you being so straight and her being your fiancée—that it would make you jealous of me, no?”
Shit.
He grins a shit-eating grin. “Little Freudian slip there, Romance?”
“I don’t even know what we’re talking about,” I grunt. “But I’m not jealous.”
“Of course not.”
I glare at him. “I’m not.”
He winks. “Yes. That’s what I just said.”
My brow wrinkles. “Are you always this annoying?”
“Only with people I really like.”
My cheeks tingle, and I bite my lip to stop from grinning like an idiot as I turn away. “Well…bye.”
His hand closes around my bicep, squeezing just enough to send a tingle through me.
“Hey—you still offering rides home?”
“Well, thanks for…walking me up?”
I’ve been utterly silent the entire drive to Val’s place. He hasn’t, but I have.
He gives me a half-perplexed, half-amused glance as he unlocks the loft door.
“Super chivalrous, wreckage, but I think I’m good now—Roman?”
I shoulder past him, storming into his apartment like wrath incarnate.
I don’t even know why I’m so angry. Why I’ve been livid since I walked into the Mercury and saw him all cozy with Dasha, with his fucking arm around her.
The thirsty comments on his Instagram earlier were the dry wood and straw. But seeing that, and the way he grinned at her like pure sex, was the spark that ignited the whole thing.
Val follows me inside and shuts the door.
“Look, as fun as it is to hang out with a silent person, I think I’ve hit my limit on one-sided conversation for the day—”
He grunts when I whirl and slam into him, shoving him against the door.
“What the fuck is your pr—”
“You,” I snarl, grabbing him by the collar. “You’re my fucking problem!”
He barks a cold laugh. “Oh, I’m the problem.” He smirks. “Me.”
“Let’s get one thing fucking straight,” I hiss.
Val laughs. “Perfect choice of word.”
My teeth grind. “Fuck you. And I am not fucking jealous. Why the fuck would I be jealous—”
“Because I was trying to make you jealous!” he roars in my face. “I could see the green venom dripping out of your pores from a mile away, motherfucker. So why don’t we stop pretending!”
I’m shaking as I drag in a heavy breath of air, my pulse like liquid fire.
“Why,” I growl, my throat squeezing in on itself, my pulse roaring in my ears.
The fucking nearness of him overwhelms me. The heat of his skin, his cedar, leather, and sage scent swirling through my senses.
All the feelings he brings out in me…
“Why were you trying to make me jealous,” I hiss.
The icy blue in Val's eyes glints like cold diamonds.
“Maybe I wanted to see if you really were too scared to do anything. To make a fucking move! Because, news flash, sneaking over here at night under the banner of bringing me fucking groceries isn’t making a fucking move, Roman. That’s just you being too afraid to—”
“Afraid?”
“Yeah, afraid—”
Val’s brows shoot up when I drop to my knees in front of him, pure need exploding through my veins as I yank on his belt.
“Roman—”
“Shut the fuck up. I'll show you afraid.”