Page 120
Story: Ivan
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there, locked together, bathed in the dying rays of the sun, but I couldn’t imagine ever feeling closer to another person.
*****
The rest of the week blew by relatively smoothly, all things considered.
I made a feeble argument that I should continue attending classes which Ivan furiously shot it down. He reminded me that I was lucky he was even letting me attend orchestra practice. I decided not to push my luck.
I ended up telling my teachers I was sick with the flu. As a result, I walked on and off campus like a criminal, anxious that one of my professors might spot me and accuse me of lying.
Instead of dropping me off and picking me up, Ivan stayed on campus the entire length of my practice. I felt guilty about him standing around for two hours, but I knew he used the time arrange things for his mother and do other mobster-related stuff.
When I came out of practice, his ferocious frown was aimed at whatever was on the screen of his phone.
“Hey, everything okay?”
The scowl that had been aimed at his phone was transferred to me. “No. Bringing you here is crazy. Participating in this idiotic concert is crazy.”
I didn’t know why I asked him that. He said the same thing after every practice. I would walk out and he would be glowering at his phone or anyone who happens to be walking by and grumbled about the stupidity of letting me perform in the concert.
Fortunately, I’d learned how to handle his surliness.
“How about we go home, and I express my gratitude for your patience and generosity?” I asked sweetly, while sliding my hand down to rub discretely against the front of his jeans.
His lips flattened as he gripped my face in his hands. “I know what you’re doing, you know.”
I fought back a smile. “Are you saying you’re not interested?”
With a growl, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the car. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 47
Ivan
I was losing my fucking mind.
Letting Emmy come to this concert was the dumbest decision I’d ever made. In the days since I idiotically agreed to this nightmare, every time I wavered in my agreement, Emmy employed incredibly persuasive and fuck hot tactics to regain my compliance. This girl was my fucking kryptonite.
“Ivan, you don’t have to stand here with me until I walk on stage. You can sit down. I’ll be fine. There are a million people back here,” Emmy exasperated voice sounded behind me as she tuned her harp.
I’d been standing next to her with my arms folded, scrutinizing everyone in the backstage area since we’d arrived forty minutes ago, her words doing absolutely nothing to move me away from her.
I knew I was driving Emmy crazy between staring down any man that got within ten feet of her and pacing around like an expectant father. I couldn’t help it. Everything about this situation had anxiety abrading my skin like sandpaper.
Earlier in the week, I had a little visit with her music teacher, Mr. Belshaw. Anya had sent me a file on him and the more I read it, the more furious I became.
Apparently, Dan Belshaw had a habit of targeting freshman girls and starting relationships with them. He lasted three years at his last school before complaints finally became too numerous to ignore. He’d target a new girl at the beginning of every semester, seduce her, then dump her. It wasn’t technically illegal, but it was creepy as fuck. He wasn’t Orlov levels of evil, but the fact that he’d targeted Emmy for this fucking game had me eager to correct the error of his ways.
I waited until I saw him walk towards his office—I’d learned the layout of this place like the back of my hand—and followed him. Using far more force than necessary, I shoved him inside and shut the door.
He turned, his face twisted in anger until he saw who it was. He tried to school his features into a more unaffected expression, but I could see the nerves in the way his eyes darted around, looking for an exit.
“Hey, Dan,” sneering the name he encouraged Emmy to use.
He cleared his throat and adopted a superior expression. “Do I know you?”
I grabbed his lapels and snarled into his face, “You’re about to learn exactly who the fuck I am. I happen to know what you like to sleep with your female students, and I also know you’ve been making moves on Emmy.”
He shook his head frantically, “No, no, no—”
*****
The rest of the week blew by relatively smoothly, all things considered.
I made a feeble argument that I should continue attending classes which Ivan furiously shot it down. He reminded me that I was lucky he was even letting me attend orchestra practice. I decided not to push my luck.
I ended up telling my teachers I was sick with the flu. As a result, I walked on and off campus like a criminal, anxious that one of my professors might spot me and accuse me of lying.
Instead of dropping me off and picking me up, Ivan stayed on campus the entire length of my practice. I felt guilty about him standing around for two hours, but I knew he used the time arrange things for his mother and do other mobster-related stuff.
When I came out of practice, his ferocious frown was aimed at whatever was on the screen of his phone.
“Hey, everything okay?”
The scowl that had been aimed at his phone was transferred to me. “No. Bringing you here is crazy. Participating in this idiotic concert is crazy.”
I didn’t know why I asked him that. He said the same thing after every practice. I would walk out and he would be glowering at his phone or anyone who happens to be walking by and grumbled about the stupidity of letting me perform in the concert.
Fortunately, I’d learned how to handle his surliness.
“How about we go home, and I express my gratitude for your patience and generosity?” I asked sweetly, while sliding my hand down to rub discretely against the front of his jeans.
His lips flattened as he gripped my face in his hands. “I know what you’re doing, you know.”
I fought back a smile. “Are you saying you’re not interested?”
With a growl, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the car. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 47
Ivan
I was losing my fucking mind.
Letting Emmy come to this concert was the dumbest decision I’d ever made. In the days since I idiotically agreed to this nightmare, every time I wavered in my agreement, Emmy employed incredibly persuasive and fuck hot tactics to regain my compliance. This girl was my fucking kryptonite.
“Ivan, you don’t have to stand here with me until I walk on stage. You can sit down. I’ll be fine. There are a million people back here,” Emmy exasperated voice sounded behind me as she tuned her harp.
I’d been standing next to her with my arms folded, scrutinizing everyone in the backstage area since we’d arrived forty minutes ago, her words doing absolutely nothing to move me away from her.
I knew I was driving Emmy crazy between staring down any man that got within ten feet of her and pacing around like an expectant father. I couldn’t help it. Everything about this situation had anxiety abrading my skin like sandpaper.
Earlier in the week, I had a little visit with her music teacher, Mr. Belshaw. Anya had sent me a file on him and the more I read it, the more furious I became.
Apparently, Dan Belshaw had a habit of targeting freshman girls and starting relationships with them. He lasted three years at his last school before complaints finally became too numerous to ignore. He’d target a new girl at the beginning of every semester, seduce her, then dump her. It wasn’t technically illegal, but it was creepy as fuck. He wasn’t Orlov levels of evil, but the fact that he’d targeted Emmy for this fucking game had me eager to correct the error of his ways.
I waited until I saw him walk towards his office—I’d learned the layout of this place like the back of my hand—and followed him. Using far more force than necessary, I shoved him inside and shut the door.
He turned, his face twisted in anger until he saw who it was. He tried to school his features into a more unaffected expression, but I could see the nerves in the way his eyes darted around, looking for an exit.
“Hey, Dan,” sneering the name he encouraged Emmy to use.
He cleared his throat and adopted a superior expression. “Do I know you?”
I grabbed his lapels and snarled into his face, “You’re about to learn exactly who the fuck I am. I happen to know what you like to sleep with your female students, and I also know you’ve been making moves on Emmy.”
He shook his head frantically, “No, no, no—”
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