Chapter 13
Islide into the driver’s seat of my black SUV, tossing the takeout bags onto the passenger seat next to Ivan. He raises an eyebrow at me as I start the engine.
“What?” I ask gruffly, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Nothing,” Ivan says, though his tone suggests otherwise. “It’s just I don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave a meeting early to grab takeout before. Especially not to bring to someone else.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, keeping my eyes fixed on the road. “I was hungry. The food there was shit.”
“Uh huh,” Ivan says skeptically. “So this has nothing to do with a certain Italian girl we both know who spends all her time in the library?”
I don’t respond, which is response enough for Ivan. He chuckles.
“Look, I’m happy for you, cuz. It’s about time you went after something you really want.”
“It’s not like that,” I mutter.
“Oh yeah? Then what’s it like?”
I hesitate. Ivan’s right, of course. This thing with Sara – it’s new territory for me. I’ve always taken what I wanted through intimidation and force. But Sara – she’s different. I want her desperately. But I also want her to want me back.
“Dimitri?” Ivan prompts.
“I don’t know, alright?” I snap. “I just... I need to see her. To talk to her.”
Ivan nods thoughtfully. “You really care about this girl, don’t you?”
I grip the wheel tighter, anger flashing through me. “Shut the fuck up, Ivan.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey man, just making an observation. It’s nice to see this side of you.”
I scoff but feel my anger subsiding. Ivan’s always been able to get under my skin, even as a kid. But he’s also the closest thing I have to a real friend.
“Why are you pushing this anyway?” I ask tiredly.
Ivan shrugs. “Because you deserve to be happy, Dimitri. And I think Sara could be good for you. Lord knows you need some softening up.”
He elbows me playfully, and I can’t help but crack a small smile.
“Yeah well, you’re one to talk,” I retort. “When’s the last time you had a real relationship, huh?”
“Hey this isn’t about me!” Ivan says with mock indignation. “I’m just saying, don’t let your issues get in the way of something good.”
I nod slowly. He’s right about that. Sara is special. From the moment I first saw her, I knew she had to be mine. And that I was already hers. There’s a fire in her that draws me like a moth to a flame. I’ve never felt this pull towards anyone before.
We arrive at the university and I park near the library. Ivan grabs the takeout bags from the passenger seat.
“Well, go get her, Romeo,” he says, shoving me. “I’ll wait here.”
I take a deep breath before pushing open the library doors, trying to ignore the strange fluttering feeling in my chest. Pull yourself together, I tell myself sternly. I’m Dimitri Morozov, heir to one of the most powerful Bratva families in the country. I eat mobsters for breakfast.
Except when it comes to Sara, I’m not as tough as I pretend to be.
I spot her right away, sitting at a table tucked into a far corner, a pile of books spread out in front of her. As usual, she has a highlighter in one hand and is absently chewing on the end of it as she studies. Her brown hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and her brow is furrowed in concentration. God, she’s beautiful.
I weave my way through the tables and slide into the seat across from her. She glances up, surprise flitting across her delicate features before her full lips curve into a tentative smile.
“Dimitri,” she says warily. “What are you doing here?”
“Bringing you dinner,” I reply, keeping my voice low. I nod at the energy drinks and some of the takeout bags I brought in. “Thought you could use a study break.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Sara says, though she looks touched.
I shrug. “I know. I wanted to. You’re mine and I take care you. Have you forgotten already, printsessa? Ivan’s outside with more food.”
At the mention of food, Sara’s friend Martha perks up from her spot across the table. “Ooh, did you bring some for me too?” she asks teasingly.
“No, you’ll have to fight for scraps,” I deadpan.
Sara smacks my arm. “Be nice,” she chides, though her eyes are dancing with laughter. God, I love those eyes.
“Fine, yes, there’s enough for you too,” I tell Martha. I stand up and hold my hand out to Sara. “Shall we?”
The girls quickly gather their belongings. I lead them outside to where Ivan is waiting at a picnic table beneath a canopy, takeout boxes and drinks spread out before him.
He grins when he sees us approaching. “About time! Food’s getting cold over here.”
Sara and Martha eagerly grab plates and start dishing up food. I settle onto the bench beside Sara, unable to keep from watching her out of the corner of my eye. She catches me looking once and smiles almost shyly.
“Thank you for this, Dimitri,” she says softly. “It was really thoughtful.”
My chest feels tight, and I must look away from her gaze’s warmth. Get it together, man.
“Anytime,” I reply gruffly.
I lean against the picnic table, watching Martha flirt shamelessly with my cousin. She flutters eyelashes and coy smiles while Ivan seems tense. He’s just trying to resist her boldness, I can tell.
“So Ivan,” Martha purrs, scooting a little closer to him on the bench. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Ivan shakes his head, taking a swig of his energy drink. “Nah. Don’t really do the whole relationship thing.”
Martha pouts prettily. “What a shame. I would think such a handsome guy would have to beat the ladies off with a stick.” I chuckle under my breath as Ivan shifts uncomfortably, clearly unsure how to handle Martha’s advances. His father is planning an arranged marriage for him. So Ivan never succumbs to the advances of any woman.
“Uh, thanks,” he mutters, taking another long swig of his drink. “But I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”
Martha pouts, scooting even closer until their legs are touching. “Who said anything about serious?” she asks coyly, running a manicured nail up and down Ivan’s arm. “I was thinking we could just... have some fun together.”
Ivan pulls back abruptly, sloshing his drink down his front. He curses and grabs some napkins to mop up the spill.
“Yeah, that’s not really my thing either,” he says gruffly, not making eye contact.
Martha looks taken aback for a moment before regaining her composure. She tosses her hair over one shoulder and fixes Ivan with a sultry look.
“I like a challenge.”
Ivan shakes his head. “You seem nice and all, but this just isn’t going to happen.”
He stands up abruptly, crumpling his napkins and tossing them in the trash.
“I’m gonna head out. See you back at the house, Dimitri.”
With that, he turns and stalks away without a backward glance. Martha stares after him for a moment, mouth agape. Then she whirls towards me.
“What the hell was that?” she demands. “Is your cousin gay or something?”
I snort out a laugh. “Nah, nothing like that. Ivan’s just...” I search for the right word. “Picky. He doesn’t open up easily.”
Interesting. I’ve never seen Ivan react this way to a girl. Usually, he just takes what he wants and moves on. But Martha has him actually nervous.
Martha scoffs. “Picky? He straight up rejected me!”
“Welcome to the club,” I reply wryly. “Ivan’s blown off every girl who’s shown interest in him since we were kids. Nothing personal, he’s just a lone wolf.”
“Hmph. Well it certainly felt personal.” Martha grabs her plate and moves back to her original spot with a huff.
I glance at Sara, who’s watching with amusement dancing in her eyes. She leans in close to me.
“Wow, and here I thought you were the cold and aloof one,” she murmurs.
I chuckle. “Don’t let Ivan’s gruff exterior fool you – he’s got a heart of gold under all that bristle.”
Sara raises an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. He was downright rude just now.”
I shrug. “He has his reasons. Ivan’s got a... complicated history and future.”
Sara looks at me curiously but doesn’t pry further. We finish up our meal, Martha pointedly ignoring Ivan’s empty spot at the table.