Page 14 of Behind the Lyrics
The look on his face… Priceless.
A quick crack of the door, and I tossed the cat out, but not before I got a glimpse of several more women milling outside, leaning against the railing and whispering with one another, throwing hopeful glances toward my apartment.
At my appearance, they perked up and smiled, rushing forward.
Marky ran through the crowd and disappeared around a corner. There was a courtyard of sorts in the middle of the complex, and he usually did his business there—when he wasn’t peeing on rock-star shoes.
“Hey,” the cherry-red lipsticked girl said. “We just want to say hi to Viktor. We know he’s in there—”
I shut the door, locked it, and searched for my uninvited guest.
The women pounded on the wood for a few seconds then gave up.
Viktor stood in the kitchen, wiping his boot with a wet paper towel, and cursing under his breath.
“Whew. Something stinks.” I tried to hide my grin but failed.
“Are you sure that little demon’s a cat?” He bent his knee, raised his leg, and propped the sole of his shoe against the edge of the sink. Scrubbing with hard, angry jerks, his fingers worked quickly. “I’ve never been pissed on before.” He paused the cleaning and frowned. “Well, at least not by a cat.”
“Ugh. TMI.” It really did smell. Marky had never sprayed in the house, so I didn’t understand why he’d done it. “He’s never peed in here. Not sure what came over him.” I gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sorry.”
“Well, I certainly can’t go out now, anyway.” His spine rounded as he leaned closer to give his shoe a sniff. “Absolutely disgusting. I’ll have to throw these in the rubbish bin.”
I raised my eyebrows. Maybe I should’ve taken more pity on him, but there was something eloquent and poetic about my cat peeing on this man who thought so highly of himself.
“Well, like I said, it wasn’t a good idea to go out.” I faked a yawn and patted my mouth. “Marky’s a pretty good judge of character, though.” I rarely had company, but Viktor didn’t have to know that. “Guess he found you lacking.”
I couldn’t lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to Viktor, so the best way to avoid temptation? Stay as far away as possible. My life, without any complications, was tidy and neat. Maybe a bit lonely, but it beat dealing with someone who blacked out the night before and wouldn’t take responsibility for their actions the next day, like Jeff.
I shuddered and pulled the hoodie tighter.No, I do not need another man in my life.
Viktor tossed the dirty paper towels into the trash can under the counter, then washed his hands under running water. His head twisted to the side to stare at me.
“Well, if you wanted me to leave, that was certainly the way to do it.” He pulled the faucet handle downward and dried his hands on his jeans, giving his boot another disdainful glance. “I’ve always been more of a dog person, and this reaffirms why.”
I probably should offer to replace his shoes, but man, they look like designer boots or something. Probably cost an arm and a leg.“I-I’ll replace your shoes. I really am sorry he did that.”
Viktor stepped toward me until less than a foot remained between our bodies. “Angel.” He gave a cursory glance at the kitchen then moved his gaze down my hoodie, probably seeing the frayed drawstrings. “These are Italian-made and cost more than you probably make in a year.”
I’d never felt more self-conscious or destitute. The earlier desire dwindled to a dull coal under imaginary ash.
“Wow.” I snorted. “I knew you were a womanizer, a druggie, and an ass, but I had no idea you were an elitist, too.” Pointing to the door, I squared my shoulders and lifted my head. Sure, I was poor, but even if I had a fat bank account, I’d never make someone feel shitty for having less.“Leave, Viktor. Go back to your posh hotel or wherever the fuck you’re staying and get out of my life.”
“Wait.” He took a step back, as if I’d slapped him, and rubbed his forehead, closing his eyelids for a moment. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Out. Now.” Rage simmered under my skin, and my finger shook.
He reached toward my arm, but I twisted away and stalked to the door, unlocking the chain and deadbolt. “I’m not kidding. Don’t come back.”
With a slow walk, he moved into the living room, letting his shoulder brush mine. “What makes you think,” he murmured near my ear, “that I’dwantto come back?”
Something in the way he said this twisted my heart a little.
A low buzzing broke the silence between us.
One hand on the doorknob, he pulled the phone from a pocket. “What is it?” he growled. Silence for a moment. “Understood. I was just leaving.”
Good riddance.An urge rose within to say this out loud, but I squashed it. No sense in making a bad situation even worse.
