I was unprepared for how hot it made my pulse run too. For a moment, I was fucking dizzy, brain swimming, heart pounding. Only the thought of Cam upstairs relying on me to keep club shit together kept me from bolting for air.
That, and the subtle tension in Alexei, the tightness in his sardonic gaze and stiffness in his sinful body. He wasn’t afraid, I knew that, but something more than rage burned him up inside. He wasdisturbed. And that scaredme. I didn’t know his whole story, but I knew a damaged soul when I saw one. Felt it. Owned it. And I knew damn well what they were capable of.
Manage this. Or it’s gonna light this place on fire.
Alexei was still smirking at me. I held his gaze until Nash joined us at the bar.
He nodded at Alexei. “Together?”
“Yes.”
“In the ring?”
“If you like.”
“That’s how we do things...” Nash trailed off and looked at me.
Alexei let a dark chuckle fill the silence. “Then that is how we will do it. They do not speak my language, so I must speak theirs.”
It made sense to me. I waited for Nash to catch up and allow it. He was a leader with zero ego and he rarely pulled rank on me, but the final word was still his.
“All right,” he said. “But if Cam comes down and flips his shit, we’re blaming Rubes.”
“Cunt.” Rubi elbowed his way between us. “Why me?”
Nash shrugged. “Cam still feels bad you got hurt, so he’s less likely to kill you if this gets messy.”
“It’s gonna get messy.” All eyes pinned me down. I fought to find my next words.
They didn’t come and Alexei spoke instead. “It will not be messy. If you know nothing else about me,Saint, it is that I do not like untidy things.”
The look he gave me was obscene.
Rubi blinked, and Mateo, silent until now, snorted out a dirty snigger I’d kill him for later.
Nash read the room. Intervened before I either jumped Alexei or punched a brother. “I’ll set the ring up. Rubes, start the book. Mateo, keep the peace.”
Sensing I wasn’t leaving Alexei’s side, he left me alone and disappeared outside.
Rubi and Mateo scattered too. Mateo to gather brothers he trusted to keep order if this went wild, and Rubi to open the betting—a club tradition on every fight that ever went down, friendly or otherwise.
I’d never lost a penny.
Or a fight. But this wasn’t about me. Alone with Alexei, I stood in front of him, blocking him from the rest of the bar. “He’s going to hear.”
Cam. Of course he would. Fight nights were loud as hell. They’d hear it in Porth Luck.
Alexei picked up a beer bottle and tipped half of it down his throat, arching his neck in a way that made me want to press my lips to the delicate skin the action exposed. More heat flooded me, and again, I dampened it down.Not now.
Not yet.
Alexei ditched the bottle. The thunk of glass on wood seemed unnaturally loud.
I swallowed, but the lump in my throat remained, and the bar closed in on me; not quite panic, but a sensation that made me want to die all the same.
Alexei tilted his head. “You are not worried, wingman, no?”
I shook my head.