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“It’d be worth it,” I murmur, even as my core throbs at the promise.
It’s official. Adrian has ruined me beyond repair.
“I feel bad for them,” I tell Yan, who opens a bottle of beer and drinks from it, releasing a sigh of contentment. Kolya and Boris are dressed in army fatigues and Adrian is in his formal attire, but my friend is wearing a casual shirt and pants with a jacket.
I’m just glad he’s well enough to move and even drink now. I also saw him running with Adrian and the guards during their morning workouts. And yeah, these crazy people actually run in the snow when it’s below zero degrees.
“They’ll survive.” Yan throws up a dismissive hand. “The cold will make men out of them. They’re lucky they weren’t in the Special Forces.”
“Was is that brutal?” I ask.
“Brutal?” Yan scoffs. “Try deadly. Try, we’re the fucking chosen ones for getting out of that training alive. Remember dragging kilos of tires in fucking freezing Siberia, Borya?”
Boris’s stoic face falters for a second as he nods, and even Kolya’s lips twist, probably recalling the same circumstances.
“Seems the cold hasn’t made a man out of you, Yan,” Adrian says with nonchalance, then takes a sip of beer.
“How can you say that, Boss? I was second in my unit.”
Adrian raises a brow. “Not first.”
“Not everyone is a perfectionist freak like you and Kolya.”
I stare at Adrian. Yan told me he was in Special Forces before, but he never mentioned rank. “You were first?”
“Unlike Yan.”
“He’s all bark and no bite,” Kolya agrees with his boss, opening a bottle of beer.
“Oh, fuck you, Kolya.” Yan’s temper rises. “Rank isn’t important, skill is. What do you say, Boris?”
“I was first in my unit, too.” Boris throws a nut into his mouth. “Pay respect.”
“To being first.” Kolya shows a rare smirk and raises his bottle of beer.
My husband and Boris mimic him, drinking while Yan tightens his hold on his bottle, glaring at them before he sighs heavily.
“It seems you’re the only loser here, Yan.” Kolya smiles.
The younger guard flips him off under the table and I can’t help but smile. These men are all ruthless, coming from dangerous backgrounds that allowed them to not only survive Special Forces, but to also excel at it, and although they might be competitive about it, they feel like a family.
A fucked-up one, no doubt, but at the same time, it’s very loyal and protective.
A family I want to belong to.
“I’m going to make you eat your words by the end of tonight, Kolya.” Yan bunches up his sleeves. “There are five of us. How are we going to do this?”
“I’m not playing,” Adrian announces.
“Come on.” I nudge him. “Don’t be a fun-ruiner.”
“If I play, I’ll win every round and ruin your actual fun.”
“He’s right.” Yan rolls his eyes. “Don’t be fooled by the silent façade. Boss is competitive to a fault and makes sure to win at everything.”
“Except shipping you back to the Spetsnaz.” Adrian sips his beer. “Though that can be arranged rather swiftly now that we’re here.”
Yan winces. “You didn’t forget about that?”
