I swat his hand away.
“Seriously, though, broke my heart when you killed Zveroushka.”
“You actually gave a bike a diminutive form?”
“Hell yeah. Poor thing died so young.” He sighs, then grins. “She probably would’ve agreed to sacrifice herself if it meant you’d end up right here with me.”
“Again, the motorcycles are ‘it,’ Yulian.”
“No, I name my beautiful ladies.” He strokes the bike again, and I’m honestly so damn annoyed, it’s insulting. “Didn’t name her, though, so as not to taint Zver’s memory…Hey! You can do it.”
“I’mnotnaming your bike.”
“Then I’ll just continue to call herbaby.”
“Chaos.” I hit him upside the head. “Just go with something that fits you.”
“Hear that, Chaos? Daddy number two is jealous, but Daddy number one will always love you,” he croons, rubbing his hand all over the bike, and I kick him in the shin.
“Ow! You’re a menace.”
“I’ll pay for the fuel and grab us something to drink.”
I’m already walking toward the store, doing my best to hide the ridiculous rush of feelings his sweet talk to a bike stirs in me. He doesn’t even talk to me like that.
Irrational.
Everything about him makes me fucking irrational.
The store is quiet aside from the buzzing of the fluorescent light and the sound of the fridge. I grab two bottles of kombucha and head to the register.
The guy looks up from his phone and beams at me from behind the glass. He can’t be older than his early twenties—bleached hair, chipped black nails, and silver rings crowding every finger.
“Heya,” he says when I pass him the bottles.
“Hi. I’ll also pay for the gas at pump four.”
“Gas? Oh, you mean petrol.” He laughs like he’s dealt with this countless times.
“Yes. That.”
“You got it.” He scans one bottle, then jerks his chin toward Yulian, who’s just slotting the gas pump back into place. “That your boyfriend?”
My throat goes dry, my wallet halfway out.
The guy—Harry, if his name tag is to be trusted—must catch the stiffness in me, because he raises both hands in mock surrender.
“No hate, man. I’m gay, and I love seeing attractive guys. We don’t get that many around here. You’re both so bloody hot—I mean that as a compliment. I swear.” He chews on his nails as he steals a look at Yulian again, and the prick uses that exact moment to shake his hair.
Why does he even need to do that rightnow?
Harry doesn’t say the obvious part out loud. He thinks we’re both hot, butYulianis his type, because he’s got those heart eyes while checking him out, biting his lip and everything.
I glare at Yulian. Fucking attention whore.
No matter what I do to drive people away from him, they keep circling him like hawks.
I clear my throat, andHarryfinally tells me my total, so I tap my card on the screen.
