Chapter Thirteen

Ilya

S o far, drinking with Lara and Brooke wasn't what I normally thought of as fun. Brooke was determined to ignore me and remained silent through two rounds. Lara was much friendlier, and it was clear that she was interested in my number two.

"So, Dmitri, how do you and Ilya know each other?" Lara asked with a smile.

"I have known Ilya since we were boys. We grew up together. Our fathers were friends as well." The truth was his father worked for my father, but over time they had grown as close as brothers.

"The same as Brooke and me, growing up together, I mean. Been through a lot together over the years, I'm sure you can relate."

"Yes," Dmitri responded in his usual succinct way.

"Ilya was a bit of a hero back when we knew him, isn't that right, Brooke?"

All eyes turned to the silent member of the group, and she blinked as if she hadn't been paying attention, but I knew she soaked up every single word. "He was certainly charming when he needed to be."

Ouch.

"See?" Lara's gaze lit up, clearly too drunk to notice the heavy sarcasm in Brooke's voice.

"Then he left without a word."

And once more, she was back to that again. I had no idea why she was so fixated on something that happened eight damn years ago. If I hadn't been so attracted to her, then I'd be running in the opposite direction right about now "Excuse me," she muttered, as she motioned for me to slide out of the booth.

"What's the rush?" I wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"No rush, just move out of my way, please." She sounded impatient, but it was those rapidly blinking eyes that gave away her emotions.

"Yeah, okay. Fine." I stood up and she rushed out of the booth before disappearing down the hall towards the restroom. "Was it something I said?"

Lara sighed heavily. "Men. If you didn't smell so good, we'd have no use for you."

"My father died," I said to her friend. I didn't know how much Brooke had told her, or even if she'd said anything at all. It was the truth, but it felt lame when I said it out loud. "I would have come back if I could have."

"Understandable," Lara agreed. "But the truth is that things were really bad for her after you left. And you didn't call, didn't say you weren't coming back. Didn't say anything at all." It was clear Lara shared Brooke's sentiment, but at least she was speaking to me. "And then you stroll back to town and expect her to welcome you with open arms? Fat chance, buddy."

"So, what, I should just leave her alone? I cannot." The thought of backing off and not getting to know her again was repulsive to me. "I won't."

Lara laughed. "I didn't think you would, but she doesn't trust you, and she won't trust you again as easily as she did the first time."

"I don't need to trust him," Brooke said when she returned to the table, arms folded and a glare for Lara. "He's a client of the firm I work for, which doesn't require me to do anything but keep his books." She snatched her coat and purse from the booth and shrugged them both on. "See you later, Lara."

"Wait," I called out, and jogged after her. "Brooke, please."

She increased her speed through the parking lot and to the sidewalk. "Good night, Ilya!" She tossed a wave over her shoulder.

It took mere seconds to catch up with her and it was worth the little huff she let out. "What's the rush?"

"I need to get home, that's the rush." She walked so fast it was as if she was running from me. "You should get back to your friend."

"How can I let you walk home alone?"

She snorted out a laugh. "Believe it or not, I have managed to walk around Winter Valley just fine without you for eight years. I'm confident I can go another eight."

"What can I do, Brooke?" I stopped in front of her and gripped her shoulders. "What can I do to get you to talk to me without it turning into an argument?"

"I have to talk to you, Ilya, and I manage it each Friday without any trouble. What you really want is for me to be that swooning girl I used to be. She had a wakeup call eight years ago."

I shrugged. "No one ever looked at me the way you did. Not before and not since. It was as if you saw me, without all the…" I shrugged, I couldn't really say without all the trappings of being a made man in the bratva and the son of a notorious pakhan .

"I'm sure you do just fine with the ladies." She glared at me and stepped around me, marching down the street, not letting me finish my sentence.

"It's not the same," I replied when I caught up with her. "Even back at WVU, the girls wanted me because my parents were rich. They didn't want to get to know me, not the way you did."

"Turns out I didn't know you at all."

"That's not true," I growled. "The only person who knows me better than you is Dmitri."

She stopped, her spine straight and her hands balled into fists as anger fairly vibrated throughout her body. "Stop saying that!" She pushed my chest. "It's not true. I didn't know you at all. The person I knew, the one I thought I was falling for? He would have called. Even if it was a month or two later, he would have called and told me he wasn't coming back. If he couldn't call, he'd have written a damn letter. He wouldn't have just taken my virginity, made me feel special for the first time in my life, and then, whoosh , vanished without a trace."

"Brooke." I reached for her, but she pushed me away.

"No, Ilya. I can't do this with you, it's too painful." She swiped at an angry tear and wrapped her arms around her waist. "I'm sorry, but I just…can't."

I pulled her close, and I held her while she cried against my shoulder. "You're right, Brooke. I'm sorry I didn't call. I didn't know what to say and I was too consumed with grief to give it much thought." It was the truth.

"I'm sorry about your father. I know how close you were." She sniffed and stepped back. "But we should keep things professional." And just like that, she tugged the emotionless mask over her face and pinched her lips into a flat line.

"We both know that's not possible, Brooke." I kissed her, so deep and hungry, that I thought we would both combust from the heat that swirled between us.

She kissed me back. Despite her anger and her hurt, she kissed me back and moaned and her fingers tangled in my hair, the pinch of pain mixed with arousal shooting straight to my cock.

Knowing she still wanted me should've been enough. It should have, but for a greedy bastard like me, it wasn't. I pulled her closer so she could feel the effect she had on me, and the moan I swallowed at the contact made my cock swell even thicker.

With a sharp gasp, Brooke pulled back and stared at me with wide, shocked eyes, as if she couldn't believe the intensity either. "That should not have happened."

My lips tugged into a lopsided smile. "It would be more believable if you didn't say those words through lips swollen from my kisses."

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter. My body isn't in control anymore, my brain is, and I can't let you hurt me again, Ilya. I won't." She gave me one last look as she shook her head, regret and sorrow written all over her beautiful face.

And then she walked away.

It was a fine sight, watching the swing of her hips as she walked away, but I cleared the fog of lust just enough to follow her home—at a safe distance—just to make sure she made it safely.

And to make sure there was no man waiting for her. I watched for a few minutes as lights came on throughout the small house. I spent too many minutes torturing myself with questions that wouldn't have any answers soon, so I headed back to the bar where Dmitri and Lara seemed to be getting along well without me.

I left them to their evening and made my way back home. Alone. My mind was full of Brooke, not the girl who got away, but the one I tossed away before I realized what I truly had.