Chapter 1 #2
I lead him to the bar, but of course my seat is long gone. We order drinks and head to a booth in a back corner instead, and I slide into the same bench as him.
“You do this a lot?” I ask him, my arm over the back of the bench the way I’d seen Kyran Winters do with Silvano Cresci. “Performing for strangers.”
I feel bolder than usual, which is a strange thought. I’m a man in his early forties. I am the leader of a small organized crime group. I have not been timid in decades.
Micah hesitates, fretting with a small paper napkin. “Not really.”
I wait, but he doesn’t continue.
“I don’t either,” I say. Micah gives me a confused look, and I add, “Come out to bars on weeknights. So it was chance that we met.”
I snort to myself at how silly the line sounds. It’s the kind of thing I would use to draw a woman into conversation, so the other men would assume I was like them. I don’t want to treat Micah like I had those women.
What a ridiculous thought.
I don’t even know the boy.
If anything, I should convince him to have quick, casual sex and be done with him.
But I look at him, at his lush lips, the flush on his cheeks, at his large eyes, and I know that I would never be satisfied with one single night.
For the first time ever, I admit to myself that maybe I want what Silvano Cresci has. I want to have a man at my side and still command the respect of my men.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Micah blurts out, only to look mortified, like he can’t believe he said that out loud. “God, I’m sorry. I’m not… used to people talking to me. I usually know better than to run my mouth.”
Those words sound strange coming from him, like they’re something he’s repeated, and I wonder if he believes them.
“Nowhere to go?” I repeat. “You mean, you don’t have a home?”
He doesn’t look like he’s been living on the streets, but I’ve heard from some of the men in my organization who started very low that there are ways to get cheap showers and look presentable even without a house.
And I know it can be very hard to find a home again after being on the streets for a while.
The cello looked expensive, though.
He flounders, still worrying at the napkin like shredding it is going to somehow offer him answers.
“My condo has a spare room,” I say.
As soon as I make the offer, I know it’s a mistake. I’m large, and scary, and a young man like him has every reason to fear me.
I have every reason to distrust him. I should not allow anyone into my personal space.
I don’t rescind the offer, though.
Micah’s head jerks up, and he stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Oh, wow. I…” He laughs nervously. “I wasn’t trying… Oh. This is why I don’t talk to people. Adam always says—” He swallows hard. “Well. I guess that doesn’t matter.”
Adam?
A familiar rush of anger slams into me, but I make sure to keep smiling.
I don’t want to feel something ugly.
I want something good, and pure, and innocent.
“What do you want to do, Micah?” I ask, leaning closer. In the background, a soft guitar song has started up. “I can take you to my place. No expectations at all. But…” I rub his shoulder. “I think you’re attractive.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been this bold before, not with a man. The few times I did sleep with other men, it was all hushed up, quiet and rushed.
“Oh,” Micah says again, like I’ve said something that surprised him. He looks up at me, those deep green eyes searching my expression. “Thank you?” he tries, only to shake his head and amend, “I think you’re attractive too, Ilya. And I like your accent. But…”
His eyes flick past me again toward the door.
“But?” I prompt, still gently rubbing his shoulder.
“I just… had a breakup,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be leading you on.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. “You’re single.
I’m single. We’re having nice time in this bar, listening to…
” I glance up, and nearly choke on my next words when I realize it’s Kyran Winters up on the stage, playing the guitar.
I quickly turn my attention back to Micah. “Listening to amateur performers.”
“Do you know him?” he asks curiously, staring at the stage.
“Not really.” I pull Micah a little closer, shifting us so we’re angled away from the stage. “But it’s a nice song. Simple.” I pause before adding, “I liked your piece more. It had a lot of emotion in it.”
He’s tense, but he doesn’t pull away. He blushes again as he says, “It wasn’t anything special. Just a cover of a song.” He seems about to stop talking, but then he goes on, “I saw it performed on a TV show, and I knew I had to learn it.”
“Yeah?” I say, encouragingly. “You’re good if you picked it up from the TV.”
“It wasn’t anything special. I found sheet music online.
” Some of his tension dissipates. He drinks in the compliment like a parched plant finally getting water after a drought.
“But I was determined, and it was just…” He makes a gesture with his hands, letting out a self-conscious laugh. “Something I wanted.”
He’s adorable, I think, watching the small smile grow on his face.
“—seen it?” he’s asking when I tune back in to what he’s saying.
I frown.
“The show?” he asks, wilting a little. “I… I’m so sorry. I must’ve been talking your ear off. I do that. Adam says—”
“I don’t watch a lot of TV,” I interrupt, “so I probably haven’t seen it. But maybe you can show me later. I like discovering new things.”
Micah eyes me, and I don’t particularly like the way it feels like he’s measuring me before he speaks.
Like he’s trying to tell me what I want to hear instead of what he wants to say.
“Okay,” he agrees, hesitating before going on, “You can see her rendition of it. The actress actually plays, too.”
“That’s impressive,” I say, although I have no idea who we’re talking about. “You’re more impressive, though.”
He flushes an even brighter shade of red, right down to his ears, and he hides under that shaggy blond hair of his.
I smile, brushing some of his hair behind his ear so I can see his face.
I want to kiss him.
We’re in public, but everybody’s attention is on the stage and we’re in a secluded corner. When I was pretending to be attracted to women, this is when I’d have made a move with one of them, but I don’t know if I’m reading the signs right.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I say, and Micah’s eyes go wide.
He looks past me, and I steel myself for a refusal—but Micah glances back at me and nods.
“Please,” he whispers. “I want it.”
My heart surges at those words. He wants this as badly as I do. So in the privacy of the booth, I urge him closer to me, and I kiss him.
I have not kissed many men. Men do not enjoy kissing for the sake of kissing. It’s a woman’s whim that drives kisses, the boring part before sex.
But as Micah kisses me back, I realize how wrong that idea was.
Kissing Micah fills me with warmth like I’ve never experienced before.
It wipes away the remnants of the nightmare.
And right there, with his lips parting for mine, I make a decision.
I’m going to make Micah mine.