Page 26 of Working Out West

Chapter Seven

Adrik

Six long and fucking tiring weeks, and I still hadn’t gone after who I wanted. I blamed work, parents, but also the fact how he seemed happy. I could tell from the photographic proof sitting on my desk on my kitchen counter in front of me. I had lost count of the times I brought these out to look at. Like some stalker. Except, even when I tried to throw them away after seeing his smile, witnessing his happiness, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

My not seeking him out had nothing to do with the concern of rejection.

“Motherfucking stubborn ass,” I mumbled to myself in Russian. I was weak, too worried he would not want me. I worried where I should have been taking control and seeing him, telling him I wanted him in my life.

I picked an image up and brought it closer. It was of West leaving Polished with security following him, but he’d stopped near his car and looked off in the distance, as if seeing someone he knew.

Then another when he moved into a new house. Dimitri found out it was with his friend Lucas and his partner, Wreck, who was a part of the Diamond Motorcycle Club. I did not like seeing him laughing with another, but at least I knew they were only friends.

The most recent was of West walking from the college campus. The wind had made his hair fall into his eyes; his hand was up about to brush it away.

I missed him.

His smile, his eyes, his mouth as he spoke too much, but enough that I enjoyed seeing what would come from him.

Had I left it too long?

Did he have someone else?

He still worked at the escort agency. I clenched my jaw when my gaze landed on him out on a date with a client. A man old enough to be his father. I hated those photos the most. It seared my insides to a point I thought I would burn from the inside out.

Was he actually happy?

Did he care that he hadn’t seen me?

I knew nothing of his thoughts, but I wanted to.

Soon. I needed answers, and I was now impatient to get them. As soon as my parents were out of the States, I would approach West and see where things would go.

It had been good having my parents around, but they had stayed too long. I had thought Papa would want to get back for business, but something kept them here.

I lifted my head when I heard footsteps approach. Quickly, I moved the photos into one pile and managed to get them into the drawer just as my mother walked around the corner with Papa following.

“I thought I was meeting you downstairs for lunch?” I asked in Russian.

“We need to speak,” Papa replied.

Tensing, I nodded toward the table. Had my parents seen the photos? I moved around the counter, glancing back to make sure the drawer was closed. It was. After Mama sat, I took the chair opposite her while Papa took the head of the table.

“What is wrong?”

“You,” Papa barked in English.

“What about me?”

Mama rested a hand on Papa’s arm. “My boy, we have been here a long time now, and you’ve kept us busy seeing sights, which we have loved. But we worry about you since all we see is you working. No dates. No life.”

“Mama, I’m not interested in them.”

“Is it too much running three casinos and the bars?” Papa asked.

“No.”

“It’s not only that,” Mama stated, back in English. It was no wonder I switched languages so much when Mama always did. Papa nodded and sat back, letting Mama lead. “We notice a sadness in you, my boy. A sadness only a person can put there. Was there someone who broke your heart?”

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