Page 62
Story: Wicked Savage
Wait…
Did he just sayyet? He’s messing with me, right? We’ve known each other for about five minutes.
“I wasn’t thinking that.” I roll my eyes, amusement playing on my features even with the little flutter in my chest.
“Mm-hmm.” That smirk grows wider as he tugs me toward the door. “Come on, love.”
My bodyguards wait outside as we step in, and a little bell rings, drawing the attention of an older man from behind a glass counter.
“Mr. Quinn, welcome. Your piece is ready.”
“Thank you,” Cillian says smoothly, but then adds with a little squeeze of my hand, “This is my girlfriend, Dinara.”
Girlfriend. He called me his girlfriend.
My stomach does a flip. He didn’t just say my name; he declared me as his.
The man gives a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure.”
He turns, disappearing behind the counter, and when he returns, he’s holding a long blue box. A surge of excitement rushes through me.
What the hell is that?
Leaning in closer, I try to get a glimpse.
Cillian catches my eye, his gaze filled with affection. He opens the box slowly, and I suck in a breath. A delicate tennis bracelet glints up at me, sparkling under the dim lights of the shop.
“This is for you.” His voice is low and warm as he lifts the bracelet, holding it with care like it’s something precious.
My heart skips. It’s not the bracelet itself that’s the most overwhelming thing—it’s the fact thathegot it for me.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.
“I'm glad you like it.” Warmth shines in his eyes. “I added something to the back.”
I glance at him, and then at the little lens he hands me to inspect the inscription. The words are simple, but they hit me like a freight train:Those who don’t take risks don’t drink champagne.
I laugh, the sound a little shaky, but genuine. I can’t help it.
I beam up at him as the man steps back to give us space. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He slides the bracelet onto my wrist, his fingers brushing my skin, and I feel a tug in my chest.
“My mom would’ve liked you,” he says softly, his words almost too quiet for anyone else to hear.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat thickening. “My mother would’ve liked you too.”
He drags me closer, his arms enveloping me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Our bodies press together, and I find myself rising on my toes to kiss him. It’s gentle at first, before it grows more urgent, full of everything unspoken between us.
And in this instant, I know with every fiber of my being that we’re destined for something. Something real.
We’re not just two people playing pretend. We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
* * *
I can’t believe I’m back home after the best weekend ever. Cillian took me to a Broadway show like he promised, and we did all the classic touristy things: sights, sounds, even the cheesy souvenirs. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in forever.
And the best part? He got gifts for Gregory and Tatiana. Didn’t even need to, but he did.
Did he just sayyet? He’s messing with me, right? We’ve known each other for about five minutes.
“I wasn’t thinking that.” I roll my eyes, amusement playing on my features even with the little flutter in my chest.
“Mm-hmm.” That smirk grows wider as he tugs me toward the door. “Come on, love.”
My bodyguards wait outside as we step in, and a little bell rings, drawing the attention of an older man from behind a glass counter.
“Mr. Quinn, welcome. Your piece is ready.”
“Thank you,” Cillian says smoothly, but then adds with a little squeeze of my hand, “This is my girlfriend, Dinara.”
Girlfriend. He called me his girlfriend.
My stomach does a flip. He didn’t just say my name; he declared me as his.
The man gives a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure.”
He turns, disappearing behind the counter, and when he returns, he’s holding a long blue box. A surge of excitement rushes through me.
What the hell is that?
Leaning in closer, I try to get a glimpse.
Cillian catches my eye, his gaze filled with affection. He opens the box slowly, and I suck in a breath. A delicate tennis bracelet glints up at me, sparkling under the dim lights of the shop.
“This is for you.” His voice is low and warm as he lifts the bracelet, holding it with care like it’s something precious.
My heart skips. It’s not the bracelet itself that’s the most overwhelming thing—it’s the fact thathegot it for me.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.
“I'm glad you like it.” Warmth shines in his eyes. “I added something to the back.”
I glance at him, and then at the little lens he hands me to inspect the inscription. The words are simple, but they hit me like a freight train:Those who don’t take risks don’t drink champagne.
I laugh, the sound a little shaky, but genuine. I can’t help it.
I beam up at him as the man steps back to give us space. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He slides the bracelet onto my wrist, his fingers brushing my skin, and I feel a tug in my chest.
“My mom would’ve liked you,” he says softly, his words almost too quiet for anyone else to hear.
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat thickening. “My mother would’ve liked you too.”
He drags me closer, his arms enveloping me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Our bodies press together, and I find myself rising on my toes to kiss him. It’s gentle at first, before it grows more urgent, full of everything unspoken between us.
And in this instant, I know with every fiber of my being that we’re destined for something. Something real.
We’re not just two people playing pretend. We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
* * *
I can’t believe I’m back home after the best weekend ever. Cillian took me to a Broadway show like he promised, and we did all the classic touristy things: sights, sounds, even the cheesy souvenirs. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in forever.
And the best part? He got gifts for Gregory and Tatiana. Didn’t even need to, but he did.
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