"The Underground Fighter and His Kitten"
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Sasha "Kayo" Sokolov is a Russian fighter who was sent to America at a young age. One day, he met a young girl by the name of Everleigh Wilson, who taught him how to speak English, and helped him with his s...
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I could tell Everleigh was lost in her thoughts just based on the way she hadn't looked away from the passing scenery outside her window. She was so caught up in her own mind that she didn't realize we were parked outside a restaurant. I had first seen this place a few months ago and I always wanted to try it. They specialized in Italian food, and the restaurant was known to be quite luxurious.
I was never a big fan of fancy and overpriced ass restaurants unless it was a treat from my boss. However, it seemed like something Everleigh would enjoy, and my only proof was the growling of her empty stomach the entire drive.
I turned off the vehicle and went to open the door. Just as I saw Everleigh preparing to open up her door, I grabbed her arm.
"I got it," I told her. She raised a brow, but didn't dare lift another finger.
"When did you get so chivalrous?" she asked me.
"Chivalrous?" I questioned, not being familiar with that word. Suddenly, I was that little kid again, depending on Evie to teach me English. I found myself looking at my reflection in her brown eyes, seeing the little kid I once was.
"Yes, chivalrous. Like, a gentleman," she explained. For a split second, my imagination put me back in that place we were years ago. Every emotion I ever felt for her rushed back to my locked up heart with quickness. I could physically feel the extra thump of my heart.
"Right, chivalrous," I repeated, clearing my throat and tearing my gaze away from her. I quickly got out of the car and shut the door behind me. Without being in her intoxicating aroma, I was able to finally breathe. She was like a witch with the way she pulled me towards her without using her hands. It was like I was caught in some spell. All I needed were those damn eyes.
I walked around the car and opened the passenger door for her. She stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the restaurant. I could tell based on the way she gazed down at her attire that she didn't approve.
"What?" I questioned.
"I wish you would've given me an option to change or something. This place looks... boujee," she told me. I wasn't dressed either, but I also didn't give a single fuck.
Instead of listening to her protest, I placed my arm over her shoulders and led her into the building. The entire time, all I could focus on was the smell of her vanilla scent. It was everywhere—from her body to her hair. I never once thought too highly of vanilla, but it was growing on me.
"We can't go back to your place and change?" she whispered as the entrance doors were opened for us. There was nothing more that I wanted than to hear a woman with curves in all the right places to ask me to go back to my place, but I knew she didn't mean it in the way I wanted her to.
"Just relax," I whispered in her ear.
I could feel her shiver, but I wasn't sure if it was from the cool air or what I had said.
