Page 4 of Unrequited

She laughs, and I shake my head, still filled with nerves. But I’m not turning back now.

She parks her car alongside the curb in the way back. Her nondescript black Kia doesn’t catch attention like my brothers’ flashy, sleek cars. I like that.

Still, I feel exposed. Unprotected.

I remind myself, I need to try. Ihaveto try.

With a deep breath, I follow behind Mia, well aware of the eyes of the men following the line of my cleavage and the sway of my ass as I walk in.

Mia orders me something that’s like dessert in a glass over ice, creamy and sweet, and it goes down real easy.

I’m cautious. I don’t accept anything from strangers, and I don’t leave my drink unattended. I’m not stupid. So I just tentatively sip, like I belong here.

I let my gaze wander, with one eye glancing at the door as if expecting Rafail to storm in here and drag me home.

But no one comes.

No texts even ping my phone.

I let out a breath.

I’m getting away with it.

My eyes settle on a man at the bar. Attractive. Older than I am. Longish dark hair curls around his ears. Warm brown eyes. A dimple flashes when he gives me a wolfish grin. A warning bell clangs in my head, but I tell myself I’m just nervous about being discovered.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says in a low voice. “Don’t you look stunning tonight? Let me buy you a drink.”

I smile shyly. “Thank you.”

Mia’s already in the corner, tangled up in someone else’s arms and tongue. God. Seriously? She’s left me all alone. I signal to her, but she doesn’t even look my way.

I think of the house, imagine curling into my favorite chair with a hot cup of tea and a book.

That actually sounds better than this. Is that lame?

“Are you alone?” the man asks.

Is that a normal pickup line, or should I be worried?

I shrug, noncommittal, and let the conversation carry us forward. He’s friendly and easy to talk to. Probably in his mid-twenties, so younger than I thought but older than I am.

After a while, he leans closer.

“It’s loud in here,” he murmurs. “Let’s go for a walk.”

I hesitate. Definitely more dangerous.

Still, I want to be kissed. I decided I would be. Secretly. Recklessly. Like I’m a woman someone wants, and not just a girl someone wants to protect.

I glance toward Mia, trying again to signal her, to reassure myself she’s got my back, but she doesn’t look up.

I clench my fists. Itishard to hear in here, and it’s awkward to have a first kiss at abar.

“Maybe.”

I’m considering. I look to the door, half-decided, when I feel the weight of someone’s gaze on me.

At the far corner of the bar, hidden in shadow, a man sits with a drink cradled in his large, rough hand. I can’t make out his face, just the broad, tense set of his shoulders. Stillness, like he hasn’t fidgeted a day in his life.