Page 29 of Dirty Hot Valentine
“Ms. Dawson.” The bodyguard gestures for me to follow him.
I snatch the rose and steps inside the club.
No surprise. The pipe has burst in here too. Not only have I been fooled into coming to a Valentine’s Day party, but also I’m the girl wearing black on the only day you don’t wear black.
Fucking awesome.
I elbow my way through the dancing crowd, following the bodyguard to a curtain by the left side of the stage.
He cocks his bald head inside and waves for me to enter. When I do, he shuts the curtain behind me.
The narrow hall is squirming with movement more than on the dance floor. Everybody is carrying things and moving fast like busy bees. I see Viktor standing with the rest of the band and some girls, swirling his sticks through his fingers.
I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch. He looks sexy as fuck in those back jeans and leather jacket, but I’ll still murder him.
Stomping toward him, I call out his name. His head jerks in my direction, and a silly grin stretches his lips.
“Babe.” His hand holds mine, and before I complain he kisses me. “You look amazing.”
“Are you shitting me?” I glare at him, and then I look at his friends, who are staring at us. As much as I hate Viktor for lying to me, I don’t want to make a scene or embarrass him in front of his band.
I drag him to a dim corner. “What the fuck is going on? Why did you lie to me?”
He gives me his sad puppy eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t come any other way, and I really wanted you to be with me tonight.”
“What? That’s not an excuse to lie to me.”
He kisses my fingertips one by one. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“What’s so special about tonight anyway except that it’s fucking Valentine’s?”
“Nothing. All I wanted was to celebrate thisfuckingday with you, Maggie. Is it really that bad?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I don’t do this. Any of it. The dating. The hearts. The roses.” My hand waves the rose in exasperation. “You know that.”
“I do, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” I whisper, my chest tight with air.
He takes a deep breath and rubs a thumb over his brow. “Could you just listen to the song?”
I grunt my refusal, a lump clogging my throat.
“Please. I wrote it for you.”
I wanna stomp my feet on the ground and scream. “I think it’s better if I leave.”
“What? No.”
“Viktor, I just can’t…”
“It will only take a few minutes. Just please listen. It’s all I’m asking for.”
The music stops, and a male voice announces the band’s name. Viktor squeezes my arms, gazing into my eyes. “I must go now. Promise me you’ll stay.”
I have no other choice but to nod.
As he runs to the stage, I twist and watch the rest of the boys kiss their girls away. The way they look and touch each other tells me these must be the girlfriends not some groupies.
