Stoking the Fire (Salus Security #1) - Teodora Kostova Page 0,46

shoulder to mine.

“Besides… He probably doesn’t want me anymore. Not like he used to. Hell, he may be in a relationship for all I know.”

Adri drapes an arm over my shoulders, bringing me closer and kissing my temple. “You’ll never know until you actually talk to him.”

I scoff. “And say what exactly? ‘Hi, Alec, are you dating anyone? Because I’m still hung up on you and was wondering if you can forget everything that happened three years ago and give us another chance?’ Yeah, I don’t think so.”

Adri chuckles. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He pulls me closer and blows a raspberry on my cheek. I giggle and push him away, nearly knocking him down into the bathtub. “Let’s go out tonight,” he says when he rights himself.

“Where?”

“I got invited to a party in Williamsburg but wasn’t sure if I’d be up for it.” He stands, puts his hands on his hips, and gives me a devilish smile. “But now? I think I’m very up for it.”

“I don’t like this,” I say, pointing in Adri's general direction.

His smile gets even bigger.

The car drops us off in front of the building an hour later. We’ve decided against going back to the penthouse to change. Alec’s wearing his casual uniform of black jeans and black Henley that clings to every ridge and curve of his body and, more importantly, is suitable for nearly every occasion. I, on the other hand, don’t feel comfortable going to a private party full of Adri's friends (most of whom are artists or environmentalists or entrepreneurs who already hate me) in the ripped jeans and white t-shirt I’ve hastily put on before we left for Adri’s. And which, I notice too late, has a stain just above the hem.

Adri offered me one of his shirts—a short-sleeved Calvin Klein button-down in navy blue that suited my complexion, as he pointed out. It’s a little tight on me, but as long as I don’t raise my arms too high, I can make it work. There’s nothing to be done about my jeans; there’s no scenario in which I’ll fit into a pair of Adri's skinny jeans and still be able to breathe.

“Try to stay close to me,” Alec whispers in my ear as the car speeds off. “If you want us to look like friends, maybe don’t flinch every time I’m close to you.”

“I don’t flinch when you’re close to me!” I say, pulling back indignantly to look at his face.

“You do,” he says, his voice much softer than I expect.

I hold his eyes, silently rehashing all the times we’ve been close together, trying to figure out if he’s right. “I didn’t flinch last night. In the club. When we danced.”

Alec’s full lips part as if he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance.

“Come on, let’s go,” Adri says, siding up to me and pulling on my arm. “We’re already late. And you know how Stan gets when someone is late to his parties.”

I have no idea which one of his friends is Stan, and I’m too committed to never actually remembering their names. But I nod and let him pull me toward the building.

At the entrance stands a man in dark clothes, nearly as big as Alec. Adri slows his pace when we approach him and produces an invite from the back pocket of his jeans. The man takes it, scrutinizes it, and then holds it back to Adri.

“It says Adrian Laskin plus one.” His eyes slide up and down Adri and stop on his face. Then move to me, assess me without much interest, and then slide to Alec behind me. The man frowns and opens his mouth as if to decline him entry, but then his frown dissolves into a wide smile. “Bono? Is that you, man?”

I turn to look at Alec over my shoulder and see him grinning back at the man. He steps around us, and they bump fists and hug.

“Good to see you, Hoz,” Alec says.

“What’s going on?” Adri murmurs into my ear.

“Army buddy,” I murmur back.

Bono was Alec’s army nickname, I know that much. It’s short for his surname, Bonovich, and everyone who calls him that must have served with him.

“Going up to the party, too?” Hoz asks with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t seem like your kinda thing, man.”

“I’m on the job.” Both Alec and Hoz glance at us.

Adri waves and then gives Hoz a charming smile. I don’t know the guy, but I can see from the tortured expression