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I shake my head, looking down at the table as my eyes blur. I need to be strong. I can’t react like this.
I take a deep breath and focus my attention on business. That’s what I was here for, anyway. All the gifts and niceties don’t cover up that the only reason I’m still showing up here is to collect money. Oakley doesn’t owe me her patience or affection, but she does owe me money.
I look at her, at the tears in her eyes, and something inside me breaks. I can’t go through with this. I can’t be as tough with her as I am with everyone else. She’s different.
“You know, Oakley, I want you to be here. That’s the honest truth, and I’m serious about it. I really like you,” I say, speaking close to a whisper so that she has to focus on my words. It’s a trick I use to get people’s attention and distract them from their feelings when they’re spiraling out of control.
She sniffs, and her perfect lips pouting in a way that makes me want to pull her across the table and kiss her.
Is it wrong to think she’s attractive when she’s crying?
“I’m going to make sure you’re safe. I promise. Nobody is going to hurt you, even if I have to stand watch day and night. I’m going to make sure you’re protected.”
She smiles through her tears. “You mean that?”
I nod. “I promise.”
“But you don’t have to be here all the time,” she says quickly, afraid to ask too much of me, not knowing I would give her the world. “I just need to know that you’re never too far.”
“Maybe you would prefer to sleep at my place,” I suggest, my heart leaping at the idea of waking up in bed with her every morning. It drives me crazy that I can’t have her more often.
“I’ll consider it,” she replies, tracing her fingertips across the tabletop. “But I need to know that you’re really serious about this.”
“This?”
“I mean us,” she says quickly. “Just that you’re not going to leave me for some other woman or anything like that.”
I laugh. “Oh, you want to be official, huh?”
She nods. “Don’t you?”
I wouldn’t tell her, but my feelings extend much further than being girlfriend and boyfriend. That sounds so juvenile, but she probably would freak out if I mentioned wanting her as my wife. I haven’t even had time to think about it, but that seems the obvious conclusion with the way I feel.
I offer up a lighthearted smile. “I would love to be your boyfriend, Oakley.”
Her eyes light up, and she jumps out of her chair, running around the table and throwing her arms around me with even more vigor than she did when I first arrived. She holds me tightly, humming into my chest and rocking back and forth, almost knocking the chair over.
I put my hand on her back and inhale deeply, taking in the intoxicating scent of her hair, the sweet floral aroma that makes me want to pull her on top of me and fall asleep that way in the middle of the bar.
“Thank you, Savva,” she says as she releases me.
“For what?” I ask.
“You just don’t know how much it means to me to hear those words. I don’t want to sound crazy, but I really like you. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m crazy, okay? I can be a little intense, but I haven’t lost my mind.”
“You’re not crazy. If anything, I’m the crazy one,” I reply, and I mean every word. What Bratva boss takes a regular girl and falls in love with her when he could just as easily have a dozen strippers rotating through his bedroom every night?
I guess that man is me.
I get up from the table, remembering the reason I came here but not wanting to spoil the relationship right as it begins. I can’t ask for money this time. I have to leave without it.
“Where are you going?” she asks, frowning deeply as I step away.
“I need to go home and grab a few of my things.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want me to stay the night?” I ask, looking down at her and playfully raising an eyebrow.
