Page 39 of Lost Room Lawyer (Room #4)

“You’re totally my type. I meant what I said earlier. I’d really like it if you called me. You still have my number, right? I hope you didn’t throw it away already.”

“I’ll take care of that later, along with the rest of the trash piling up out here.” I folded my arms and jutted my chin toward a small plastic bag crammed with empty bottles and other junk in the corner.

“We could grab a drink. Or maybe go down to the lake. Or are you more of a park guy? I’ve got a motorcycle. If you’re not scared of it, we could get out of the city—find a spot with a view. I know some great places.”

I frowned, surprised by his persistence.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t my type—it was that in recent months, everyone had been my type.

I’d lowered my standards so much that I’d hooked up with anyone who’d made themselves available.

In the circles I used to frequent, I’d been seen as uncomplicated and easy to please.

But now that I was off the drugs and couldn’t get it up anymore, I realized I had no idea what my type actually was.

Besides, my vow to remain celibate for another two months was non-negotiable.

The relief that came with it had been transformative—it had made everything in my life feel lighter.

For the first time in ages, I could breathe again.

“Seriously?” Kilian called out, amused. “You’re just letting this bounce off you? I’m literally inviting you to spend time with me.”

For the first time, I had to fight back a smirk.

The ego on this guy was unmatched. And yet, he didn’t come off as arrogant.

Actually, he seemed kind of likable. His smile seemed genuine, and he had an open personality.

He was shorter than me—I’d noticed that earlier when he arrived with his friends—but only by about a couple of inches.

At 6’1”, I was used to towering over most people.

“Back,” Vasily announced, emerging beside me. “Oh, it’s you again. Still not giving up, huh?”

Kilian raised his brows at Vasily’s sarcastic tone. “Any tips on how I can get this grumpy bear to take me seriously?”

“Ha!” Vasily barked. “Good luck with that. This guy’s a brick wall.”

Vasily, of course, had no clue. He didn’t even know I was an actor. I stayed curt, grim, and rarely laughed—it made me more convincing as a bouncer. A quick glance at the clock told me it was already 2 a.m. Time to check the playrooms and see if the ladies were doing all right.

“I’m making my rounds,” I said.

Vasily nodded. As I was about to leave, Kilian stepped away from the wall and held the door open with the chivalry of a gentleman.

“So? Are we grabbing a drink later?”

“You’re like a dog,” I muttered, feeling annoyed.

“Do you like dogs?”

“I’m working.” I stopped near the smoking lounge and turned to face him. “Why don’t you go back to your friends and enjoy your evening?”

“I am. As soon as you tell me your name. You already know mine, after all.”

I tilted my head to the side, letting out a low grunt.

Kilian’s gorgeous dark eyes sparkled as they stayed fixed on me, unwavering.

He almost had me—almost. But then I saw it.

Something was … off. His hyper-enthusiastic attempts to win me over were sweet in their own way, but there was something in his gaze—a flicker of something foreign, like a lurking shadow.

I squinted, trying to see past his mask.

Drugs?

No. His pupils are normal.

But there was an emptiness in him, something he was trying to cover up with his over-the-top charm and borderline obsessive persistence.

Whatever it was, it made me instinctively step back. Because whatever I saw there, it was something I’d be better off avoiding.

“Mick,” I said coolly, knowing he wouldn’t give up otherwise.

“Mick as in Mickey Mouse?”

“Mick as in Mick Jagger.”

“You don’t look like Mick Jagger.”

“No, really?” I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“The Stones are great, and Mick Jagger rocks, but David’s better. Call me Bowie,” he said with a disarming calmness that threw me off. “I bet you’re a pretty chill guy. Too bad you’re not ready yet.” He winked at me one last time before heading back to his friends.

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded. And then, just as a smile tugged at my lips, Kilian turned around, walking backward, and gave me a two-finger salute.

I shook my head, trying to wipe the joy off my face, but it wouldn’t go away. So I ducked into the staff area, forcing myself to focus on my job.

–––––

Chapter 2 – Dominic

I swapped out towels, gathered empty bottles, and delivered fresh drinks to the ladies. The whole time, Kilian’s words echoed in the back of my mind:

“Shame you’re not ready yet.”

He had hit the nail on the head, but how did he know? And more importantly—ready for what? A one-night stand? Or for him? I wasn’t ready for sex, but that wasn’t a matter of choice. If it were up to me, I’d want nothing more than sex, but my body wasn’t cooperating—or rather, my dick wasn’t.

On top of that, I was just the bouncer and general go-to guy. A role I was perfectly comfortable in. I was the person most people overlooked—at least, most of them. If I’d wanted attention, I could have gotten it, but I enjoyed being in the shadows.

I carried the dirty laundry to the laundry room, loaded a machine, and set it running.

On my way back to the club, passing the bathrooms, someone grabbed me by the collar and pulled me into the small alcove under the stairs.

With my back pressed against the wall, I found myself face-to-face with Kilian, who was looking at me with a delighted gleam in his eyes.

“Hi,” he said casually.

“What do you want?” I sighed.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, chuckling. “I saw it earlier. You smiled. I want to see it again.”

“Are you insane?”

“No insults. Got it?”

I froze. “Do you even realize how pushy you’re being?”

“And you’re so reserved,” he shot back, mimicking me in a deep, grumbling voice. “Gotta work. Leave me alone.”

I channeled all my acting skills to keep from laughing. The fact that he’d caught my smile earlier was bad luck, but I had no intention of letting him see it again. He wasn’t going to get anything from me.

Yeah, that’s probably the best strategy to get rid of him.

The guy had charm, I’d give him that. He almost had me. But as I tried to step past him, he placed a hand on my chest and pinned me back against the wall. That’s when it hit me: I was trapped—in his trap. There was no way in hell I’d let him see how much I actually found him entertaining.

Kilian let go of me but stepped closer to whisper in my ear.

“Tell me your real name, Mick.”

Damn, and on top of everything, the guy smelled good! Like honey, forest, and a little bit of lavender. I turned my head, which left us only inches apart. His eyes were as deep as before, if not darker. And he had these beautiful lips, slightly parted, curving into a seductive smile.

It surprised me that his closeness didn’t unsettle me. And the way he was blocking my way didn’t bother me either, though he didn’t need to know that. He’d started a game, and I was willing to play. The game was called: Kilian Doesn’t Get What He Wants.

As his chest brushed against mine, I switched from chest breathing to belly breathing. Despite the lack of any reaction in my pants, he didn’t need to feel how his proximity still managed to excite me.

He leaned in further and sniffed my neck like some kind of predator. I stared straight ahead, focusing on the promotional poster on the wall.

I had control over my body—or so I thought.

Kilian trailed his finger along the side of my neck. Startled, I flinched, yet I still met his gaze with an unruffled expression.

He peered up at me greedily. “You’ve got great control, I’ll give you that—but your pulse doesn’t lie.”

“I’m not a fan of being ambushed,” I said in a flat tone.

Kilian had me under his spell, and I did everything I could to keep it from showing. When he pressed his thigh between my legs, I rested the back of my head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

My pulse quickened even more, but this time it wasn’t because the guy was irresistible.

No, this time it was panic. My dick didn’t even twitch, which was beyond frustrating.

I couldn’t help but press my lips together and grimace.

Kilian misinterpreted my reaction, and honestly, I was grateful for that.

“There’s something you just won’t admit,” he teased.

“What?”

“You like me.” Kilian straightened to his full height, now standing eye-to-eye with me. Still close enough that I could feel his chest against mine.

“What makes you think that?”

“You haven’t pushed me away.” He made a casual gesture. “You liked the intimate moment.” His gaze flicked to my neck. “Your pulse went wild.” Then he peered down at my crotch. “But nothing’s happening down there. And I’m pretty irresistible.”

I wanted to mock his keen observational skills, but I was still in mild shock that my dick had completely failed me, even in his presence.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I said, my voice strained as I straightened up. “Whatever you want from me, you’re not getting it.”

“But you do like me,” he said, utterly convinced.

I blinked, my attention drifting to the corridor. “Wishful thinking,” I muttered, finally shoving him off me.

Even though he stepped back, he still blocked my path.

“What should I do to convince you to have a beer with me?”

Frustrated with myself for even considering it for a split second, I shook my head.

“What?” he challenged. “Is that so ridiculous?”

“You’re misinterpreting things.”

Something shifted in Kilian’s expression. Like earlier, it was as if a chasm opened inside him. The longer I looked into his eyes, the more it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the abyss.

“I didn’t shake my head because of you.”

Kilian’s brows knitted together in an expression so intense, I envied his ability to show that kind of emotion. “Because of you?” he asked, incredulous.

“It’s just bad timing.” Then, more quietly, I added, “Really bad timing.”

“I can wait!” he said, his excitement lighting up his expression. “No problem.”

I opened my mouth, searching for the right words, when someone placed a hand on Kilian’s shoulder.

“There you are! We’ve been looking for you,” said the groom-to-be.

“Yup,” Kilian said casually, brushing off the interruption. “I’m done here.” He squeezed past his friend and turned back to me. “You’ve got my number.” And with that, he disappeared up the stairs.

Sebastian chuckled as he shook his head. “I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Is he always like that?” I asked, stepping back into the brightly lit corridor.

Sebastian made a sheepish face. “Well … he can act a little crazy sometimes. But he’s a good guy.”

“Hm …” I murmured, secretly relieved. At least I wasn’t the only one behaving strangely tonight.

I returned to my spot by the entrance, where Vasily greeted me with his usual stoic expression. “Anything interesting happen?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the street.

“No.” I replied, keeping my tone just as flat.

But deep down, I couldn’t deny that Kilian had stirred something inside me—something I couldn’t quite define. It felt as though he’d seen something in me I didn’t even know was there.

I’d also seen something in him. There was a darkness in his eyes, something pitch-black, clawing its way to the surface.

Kilian had seemed confident, but I’d also glimpsed his uncertainty.

He had a restless energy about him, like he was desperately trying to mask something uncontrollable behind his quick wit and playful demeanor.

I pushed the thought aside and turned my attention to the new guests arriving.

Red officially closed at 4 a.m., but it was often closer to 5 by the time the last customers were out the door. Most nights, I took over coat check after 4 so the coat attendant could head home. As I handed out the last few jackets, I sat in a chair, reviewing the script for my audition on Monday.

A metallic clink broke my concentration, and I looked up. Five coat-check tokens lay on the counter, and behind them stood the bachelor party group, still cracking jokes. To my surprise, Kilian stayed in the background, appearing distant and lost in his own thoughts.

I checked the numbers and retrieved the jackets. “Did you have fun?” I asked, laying them out one by one. I knew the black parka belonged to Kilian, but he didn’t make any move to grab it.

“Yeah, it was great!” the groom-to-be said. “The ladies were amazing.” He grabbed the black parka and handed it to Kilian. “Here’s your jacket.”

Kilian lingered by the entrance, staring outside while cracking his knuckles, one finger at a time. Over and over. When his friend tapped his shoulder and held out the jacket, Kilian turned, his eyes wide with confusion, as if he’d been yanked from a daydream.

Is he drunk?

But his gaze was clear—clear enough for me to know it wasn’t alcohol.

Seemingly on autopilot, he slipped on the parka.

As he nodded his thanks to his friend, his eyes met mine.

In the dim light, his eye sockets resembled black holes.

A deep furrow creased his brow, and his eyes gleamed like polished obsidian.

Kilian radiated a darkness that was almost eerie. As if aware of it, he turned and left the club first.

The others followed, with the groom-to-be pausing to leave me a tip. “Thanks for letting us all in.”

“Thank you,” I said, pocketing the ten-frank note and gesturing toward the exit. “Is he okay? He’s like a different person.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replied, brushing a hand through his brown hair—a gesture that only made him appear more clueless.

I didn’t think much of it and returned to my seat to review my script. As I glanced out the glass door one last time, I saw Kilian breaking away from the group, heading off alone in another direction.

No, he isn’t drunk , I reassured myself and turned my attention back to the text.