The Bookie (Chicago Bratva 6)

“Da.”

“What’s his name?”

“Dima.”

“And what happened with his girlfriend?”

“Dead.”

I figured, but it still makes me sad. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. He has a new girlfriend now. They moved away a few months ago, so she could go to school.”

Once more, Nikolai becomes sharply in focus as a three-dimensional human. I realize he sounded a little wooden on the last part and reach out to touch his knee. “Is that hard for you?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, which is answer enough. I would imagine in his line of business they don’t like to show weakness. Not that missing your twin brother is a weakness. “It’s all right,” he says slowly. “They come back most weekends, and I see him on video calls. But yeah, it’s not the same.” He looks toward the stunning view of the lake. “It’s not so much that I miss him, as I…” He trails off and shakes his head, like he wants to dismiss the whole conversation.

I catch his hand in mine. The gesture feels both shocking and familiar. I mean, I had sex with this guy last night, but we’re not exactly intimate. We’re not lovers; we’re just sex partners. I think I’m more surprised at my instinct to hold his hand than anything. “What?” I ask softly, even though I know if he answers, if he tells me his innermost rumblings, we’ll diverge into something else.

Beyond sex.

He looks at me, that suggestive naughtiness in the hint of his smile. “I need a hobby now.”

My nipples tighten. “So I’m that hobby for the month?” I guess.

His smile stretches, making him look more boyish. “Exactly, Freckles. Torturing you will be my entertainment.”

Bubbles of excitement fizz and pop inside me.

“Speaking of which, have you told Zane he doesn’t owe me any payments for now? Otherwise, he’s going to be robbing some other girl of expensive rings.”

I hesitate.“Do you want me to let him know?”

“No,” I say quickly. Zane will probably flip out over this. “I’ll do it.” I take my yogurt container and spoon to the kitchen then go to the bedroom to text Zane.

I made a deal with Nikolai. You don’t have to worry about making payments anymore.

I know Nikolai said, for now, but that’s because he’s not cancelling the debt until I’ve completed the full thirty days. After last night, I’m certain I won’t fail. Sex with Nikolai is no hardship. Neither is living in his gorgeous apartment.

Yes, I’m at his beck and call, and he will probably make me do all kinds of things I’ve never tried, but that gets me hot. I’m the kind of person who needs to have boundaries pushed or I’d never try anything.

No, the hardest thing about spending a month under Nikolai’s rule will be not getting emotionally involved.

Zane calls immediately.

Dammit.

I don’t really want to pick up. I don’t want to go into this with him. But if I don’t, he’ll keep calling. I answer the call.

“Hi.”

“What did you do?” Fear rings in his voice.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m taking care of things. You just keep your nose out of the coke and get your grades back on track.”

“Chelle. What did you do?”

“I made a deal with Nikolai. Everything is fine.”

“What. Deal?”

“You don’t need to know the details. It’s nothing horrible.”

“The hell it’s not! You don’t know these guys! Chelle, is it sex? Did you whore—”

I end the call, hot tears spearing my eyes. Now I feel like a whore. What felt fun and exciting a minute ago now feels shameful, dark, and dirty.

“He flipped out, didn’t he?” Nikolai stands in the bedroom doorway, watching me.

I blink rapidly, trying to shove the tears back down my throat. “Yeah, well. He’s afraid of you.”

“No, he’s pissed. I would probably think less of him if he wasn’t. I’ll let him punch my face when I see him. I deserve it.”

Nikolai’s words don’t make me feel better. Not at all. I stare at him bleakly.

“Hey.” He crosses the room and reaches for me. When I hug myself with my arms, he settles his hands on my waist and tries to catch my gaze. “You’re safe with me. You know that, right?”

I try to swallow down the lump in my throat.

“You’re not a prisoner. You can leave any time.”

Gah. The tears won’t stop threatening to spill. My jaw works, trying to keep it all in.

“See, this is why sex shouldn’t be a transaction,” he says with an exasperated exhale. “Are you feeling cheap?”

One tear spills down my cheek, and I finally drag my gaze up to his face. He brushes it away with his thumb. “You’re the one who wouldn't invite me up,” he accuses.

I can’t help it—a watery laugh tumbles out of my lips.

For just a minute, I let myself imagine what would’ve happened if I’d invited him up. But I can’t. Because I wouldn’t. Nikolai is not a guy I would actually date, and I don’t do casual sex.