III
Sufferance
The drive to the bar was worse than the initial thought of actually being forced to go in the first place. Lucas had shotgunned not driving, and I refused to comment, which only left Viktor. He didn't give off the Mercedes-driving kind of man, but I had not expected to be squeezed between two large men—one much larger than the other—in the front seat of a huge black pickup truck; even if it was a nice, shiny new pickup truck.
"Stop grumbling." Lucas shouldered me as we went around a bend, causing me to tip into the side of Viktor. I could feel him tense beside me. Was he that repulsed by my touch?
I glowered at my cousin, shouldering him right back, hard enough to push him into the car door. "I'm not grumbling, Lukey," I hissed through clenched teeth.
Lucas bumped into me again and then ruffled my hair. "Sure you're not."
Viktor was uncomfortably silent during the short drive there, but I could feel the heat from his body burning through my clothes. Lucas had made me sit in the middle, and no matter how close to him I moved, I couldn't keep my thigh from pressing against Viktor's. He didn't complain, but the way he clenched his teeth and stared deadpan ahead told me he was not happy I was there. If I were more confident I would have pressed into him on purpose, further pissing him off. Instead, my chest tightened at the thought that he could be disgusted by me.
Stop it, Callie. He's just met you and doesn't give a fuck about who you are. But part of me hoped he did care about who I was.
"Here." Viktor’s voice was gruff, pulling me from my self-deprecation. Lucas was already out of the car. I looked over as Viktor stepped out, stretching his arms above his head, pulling his shirt and leather jacket up, and exposing his sculpted stomach as he did. I bit my lip, head tilted slightly as my eyes traveled down the spattering of hair that led to his waistband.
"Ahem."
I jumped, almost smacking my head on the roof of the car. My gaze shot up, connecting with Viktor's dark stare. His eyebrow arched, a small smirk playing on his lips. I scrambled out after my cousin.
"Ready to have some fun?" Lucas threw his arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the older, Victorian-style pub. The building was dark, but welcoming, the antique exterior well maintained. If I wasn’t so distracted by the whole situation, I might have been impressed.
"Yes." I plastered on a grin, forcing enthusiasm I didn't have, while trying to keep my eyes from the imposing form that sidled up beside us.
Lucas led me inside, and I couldn't help but look back at Viktor, his tall, dark frame following behind us. His eyes were emotionless, but a small smile still tugged at his lips. My breath caught as his eyes changed from green to gold in the streetlights. Sucking my lower lip into my teeth, I looked forward.
Save for a group of rowdy people occupying the back corner, the building was almost empty. The group seemed to turn as one, looking over at us and calling out to Lucas and Viktor. Lucas dropped his arm, going up to their friends and exchanging hugs and back slaps, leaving me behind.
I stood just inside the door, my shoulders caved, hand gripping the crook of my elbow as I looked toward the table. I didn't feel comfortable coming in the first place, and now that Lucas rushed off without me I felt even worse.
"Humph," Viktor stepped around me.
I turned toward him, forgetting he was there. Eyes wide, I stared up at him, hating that I wanted him to stay with me and keep me company so I didn't have to interrupt Lucas and his friends. I refuse to feel like a third wheel—or eighth wheel. But my heart sunk when he walked past me, his eyes meeting mine momentarily. He tipped his head toward his friends, indicating that I join them. But I couldn't move my feet. I stared after him, my stomach churning as I watched him walk away, tugging off his jacket as he went. That meant he wanted me to come over, right? Fuck. I shouldn't give a damn that he had acknowledged me; he was obviously just being nice because he felt bad for me.
My shoulders lifted and fell as I sighed. Instead of joining them at the table, I dragged my feet to the bar. I eyed them over my shoulder as I sat down, noticing how carefree Viktor had become. I squeezed my thighs together, instantly affected by the boyish smile that transformed his face from the asshat he came off as, to someone I could get to know. Too bad—or was it good?—he seemed to sense I was staring at him. His eyes locked onto mine and that breathtaking smile fell, replaced by a sneer directed solely at me.
My mouth dried as I narrowed my eyes at him, flipping him off before I turned around on the barstool and leaned onto the bar. "Gin on the rocks, with a splash of soda water and orange, please," I almost begged.
The bartender finished drying the glass he was holding, then tossed the dish rag over his left shoulder. "Rough day?" he asked, pulling the gin from a liquor rack behind the bar.
"Rough year."
He began making my drink with expert speed, adding an orange slice before he spoke. "I can relate." He placed the glass before me. "It's on the house."
"I could kiss you," I groaned, too used to the pity parties to be embarrassed anymore.
"I'd rather you didn't, honey," he winked, leaning against the bar.
Lifting the glass to my lips, I inhaled the scent, using the burn to clear my head. In two large gulps, I downed the drink, hissing as the liquid scorched my throat down to my stomach.
"Rough year," the bartender nodded, echoing my last statement. He placed a shot of fireball whiskey before me, and then poured his own. "Cheers," he said, holding his shot up.
"Cheers." I clinked my shot glass with his, tossing it back without a thought. It burned more than the gin, exploding in my chest like fire. I sputtered, the burn singeing my nostrils.
He laughed, his hand flying to his mouth. "Not into the hard stuff, then."
I grinned at him, flashing my teeth. "I'm not a twenty-one-year-old getting trashed on cheap vodka with my friends anymore." A laugh burst from me at the memories. "Just cheap wine!"
"Bryce," he held his hand out, his face lit up.
I grasped his hand. "Callie," I hiccupped, recovering from the laughing. I rubbed at my cheek, the familiar ache welcome. Man, I have not laughed this much in ages. I recalled the fun morning I had had with Lucas.
Bryce disappeared long enough to serve a lone man who sat at the end of the bar, returning only to lean on the bar in front of me, as if he had known me his whole life. "So, Callie, you new to town?" He asked. "I haven't seen you around here before."
I turned slightly in my stool, tilting my head toward the rowdy men whose voices filled the building. "I'm visiting family." I took a sip from a drink he placed before me, this time of the wine variety. "I was forced to come here with the cousin and his brooding friend."
Bryce laughed at the disgusted face I pulled when I mentioned Viktor. "Oh, I know this brooding friend." He leaned forward. "He's from just outside of town, and visits Lucas multiple times a year like he's trying to escape something."
What was he trying to escape? Don't be stupid, Callie; Bryce was clearly joking about Viktor coming to Lucas to escape some terrible thing in his life. They were best friends; he was simply visiting because they're close. But then again. I frowned. They do spend a lot of time together, and neither of them comes across as gay...
"What are you escaping from?" I whispered, staring into my glass.
As if my words materialized the man himself, Viktor leaned on the bar beside me, a loud sigh pushing his disheveled fringe from his eyes. "There's only so much socializing I can take," he said, dropping to the stool beside me.
I gulped, dragging my eyes from my drink and up his body until they landed on his. "It can be tiring."
"Agreed," he nodded.
His eyes stayed on mine, and it took everything in me not to squirm under his stare. "Whiskey on the rocks, Bryce," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "And whatever Callie is drinking."
My insides clenched at the sound of my name in his mouth, causing my pussy to throb. In an instant my panties were damp. I pressed my knees together to quell the fact that I was turned the fuck on simply because this moody man said my name.
Viktor leaned toward me, his head tilted as he inhaled the air around me. His pupils dilated, and I could see his jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth. The way his body reacted had me squeezing my knees together tighter, begging the feeling to go away. I was one thought away from humping his leg like a dog.
In an instant, he tore his eyes from mine. He threw back his drink, downing the brown liquid in one gulp. He slammed the glass on the table. "Another," he growled.
The gruffness in his tone and the absence of his eyes on me were like being dowsed in ice water. My body was left shaking from the need being torn from me. I took a deep drink to fill the void. With the new drink in his hand, Viktor stood, sniffing the air beside me again. Could he smell my arousal? There was no way. He walked away, throwing a smirk over his shoulder, a darkness in his eyes that I could not place.
"Girl, you've got it bad ," Bryce said, refilling my wine.
"You're not fucking wrong," I groaned.