~Chapter 55~
The blue eyes t mine, and a jolt of electricity coursed through my veins.
He was sitting on a plush couch, surrounded by the muted conversation and the soft glow of cocktail glasses, but his gaze was fixed solely on the mont our eyes locked.
My mind went blank, and my body reacted on autopilot. I tried composing myself, reminding myself that I was at work and needed to maintain a professional deanor.
But my heart was flip-flopping, hands shaking as I quickly dropped the tray of drinks.
What the hell is wrong with ? Only his presence has shaky, like a leaf trembling. My mind is a jumbled ss of questions and doubts.
Why is he here, in this club, out of all the places in this city? Is he stalking ? The thought made snap a questionable gaze to him.
Co on, Katya, stop being ridiculous. He doesn’t even rember you. You’re just a fleeting face in a sea of strangers.
But the joke’s on , isn’t it? Because I rember him. I rember those piercing blue eyes, that chiseled jawline, and that captivating smile, that told ’thank you’
My legs feel like jelly, and I take a step back, wanting to create so distance between us I began moving But at the sa ti he stands up, towering over the other people in the lounge.
His eyes never leave mine as he moves out of the lounge, his long strides eating up the distance between us.
He chases down the stairs, grabbing my arm before I could hit the next step.
"Hey" I winced, his grip wasn’t hard or hurting, but it was definitely firm. Noticing my discomfort, his eyes flicked to mine, and released my hand instantly.
"Sorry," He stepped slowly away from , giving a much-needed breathing space. I didn’t waste any ti, inhaling sharply, filling my lungs with the cool, conditioned air of the club.
Fighting to calm my nerves, my heart still pounding from the unexpected touch. He spoke again, his voice a little stronger this ti.
"I’m sorry, my na is Michael." He scratched the back of his head, his eyes darting downward, looking like he was shy...or maybe embarrassed
I shouldn’t care, I scold myself sternly. I shouldn’t be interested in this stranger, with his piercing blue eyes and captivating smile.
But as I looked at him, I lted. Who was this guy, really?
He extended his hand for a handshake, my eyes darting to his hand, then down to mine. Slowly, raising my hand, my fingers brushed against his in a brief handshake.
As soon as our hands parted, I pulled mine back to my side, feeling a tingling sensation.
Michael’s smile was discreet, as he raised his own hand to his jaw, his eyes never leaving mine. He pocketed the hand and squared his shoulder.
"Katya, right?" he said shocking the hell out of and I looked at him wide eyes. How the fuck did he know my na?
My na isn’t plastered in my forehead was it, my hand flys to my head tapping maybe a piece of paper with my na was there.
I looked down at the tray in my hand. My na wasn’t plastered on my forehead, was it?
My empty hand flys to my head, tapping it gently, searching for a piece of paper with my na scribbled on it.
Michael’s eyes tracked my movents and his deep chuckle, low and husky, broke the spell, freeing from my frantic search on my head.
"I saw your na on your na tag," he explained over the loud song.
I glanced down at my uniform, frowning. We didn’t wear na tags here, a choice made by the club owner to protect our privacy. So, how did he...?
My mind sprinted back to the cafe, where I’d worked the morning shift. We wore na tags there, a cheerful gesture to welco custors. The connection clicked into place.
"At the cafe, this morning?" Michael’s had a small smile his face when he said it. But his tone sounded like he is asking if I rembered him.
A flush rise to my cheeks. Rember him? He’d been on my mind all morning, lingering in the shadows of my thoughts like a ghost. Fuck yes, I rembered him.
*******
The tension between us slowly dissipated,
as I had already began to deem him as a stalker.
"Do you rember?" he asked, rising his voice above the pulsating music and I nodded, with a small "Yes, I do." The words slipping out, softly, he won’t be able to hear it.
To my surprise, a radiant smile spread across his face and my heart stutter. He was taking my breath away with this handso face.
"I wanted to talk to you this morning but I didn’t know how to. I guess fate wanted to talk to you." He took a step closer, and I felt the air thicken between us or just my imagination.
My cheeks flushed, and I looked sideways, trying to break the spell. Snap out of this, Katya! You barely know him. I don’t even know him... just his na, Michael.
Michael’s gaze remained fixed on , and I rembered he’d said sothing, but my mind went blank. How do I reply to that?
Pretend!
Pretend like you didn’t hear him, I looked down at my tray, focusing on the tiny droplets of liquid clinging to the sides.
"Should we go sowhere quieter?" he asked and I shook my head, I still have work to do and if Marcus finds here. I’m cooked.
"I have work to get too." I tried to walk away, to create so distance between us, but he stopped with a gentle touch on my arm.
"How about after your work, I can wait?" he suggested and I almost lted away.
Feeling a little flutter in my chest, unsure why he’d want to wait for . What could he possibly want to talk about that was so important?
My shift ends at 1 a.m. Was he really willing to wait that long? Before I could respond, my na bood over the music, making flinch.
"Katya!" The sound echoed through the club, and a shiver ran down my spine.
Glancing toward the stairs, Marcus’s furious face greeted . Fuck!
His eyes blazed with anger, lips curled into a snarl. My heart sank, sensing the trouble brewing.
****
Marcus stord up the stairs, his glaring eyes fixed on , utterly disregarding Michael’s presence.
"It seems you want to lose your job and whore around," he spat, grabbing by my arm.
I didn’t have ti to even process the insult, when Michael’s fist connected with Marcus’s lips, delivering a swift and precise blow.
When did he move? I didn’t see him move, but suddenly Marcus was clutching his jaw, groaning in agony. The sound of the impact pierced through the music but didn’t stop it.
Damn! I don’t need this right now. If Michael beats up Marcus, I’m as good as dead. Marcus will fire , or worse, and I desperately need this job.
I quickly grabbed Michael’s hand, trying to restrain him as he raised his fist for another blow.
If I weren’t the one in this precarious situation, I would’ve gladly stood back and enjoyed the show. Marcus had it coming, after all. But I couldn’t afford to let Michael finish what he started.
He needs to back off and let handle my situation myself, I was the insulted one not him but he’s taking this too far, as he dragged out his arm from mine, hitting Marcus again and again.
Quickly with all my little strength I had, I held back his hand again."Let him go!" I yelled, my voice hoarse from trying to override the thumping music.
The club’s patrons seed oblivious to the fight unfolding on the stairs, too caught up in their own revelry to notice. But to be fair no one actually is facing the stairs.
Where the hell are the bouncer or sobody who can help get this fight to stop. Marcus was spitting out words that I couldn’t quite hear.
"I dare you to call her that one more ti, bastard," Michael snarledwith fury. Why was he defending so fiercely? We’d just t, and Marcus’s vile remark didn’t even get under my skin – he’d always had a foul mouth, and I’d learned to tune it out.
A blow ca out of nowhere, striking square in the face. Both Michael and Marcus froze, as they stared at .
The music continued to pulsate around us, but it seed to fade into the background as I struggled to regain my footing.
A burst of pain hit hard , and my vision blurred as I stumbled backward, hitting the wall with a thud.
Fuck! My head spun, and for a mont, everything went dark.
†††
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