— Is there some kind of celebration? — I chew my lower lip, trying to look seductive.
Danil studies me with a gaze that makes my legs go weak. And he says:
— Mirov’s eldest son is getting married. He’s having a bachelor party.
— The son of Kulak, is it? — I laugh. — Moscow guy, the one who recently inherited a whole fortune? The fools get lucky. Are you invited?
Danil nods with a smirk. My throat is dry.
— And can I come? I haven’t been to parties in a hundred years.
More precisely, not once. I’ve never been.
— Aren’t you afraid? There’ll be a crowd of men there.
— What should I be afraid of? I’ll be with you, — I say boldly, even though my heart is jumping out of my chest.
And it’s for a reason. Because Danil, who was desperately kissing me in the sunflowers yesterday, turned out to be that same Moscow guy. A lucky fool.
Who will get married soon.