Chapter 5: Andrei

Chapter 5: The Gypsy Wolf

Kayleigh

The weekend went by fast. Maybe because I spent most of it locked inside my room, catching up with sleep and video-calling my family back in Ireland. Cillian knocked on my door on Saturday but I literally begged him to leave me alone so I could sleep the weekend away. He walked out, reluctantly, and I haven’t seen him since. Andrei also called and tried to convince me to go out with him so he can show me around, but I asked for a rain check. Told him maybe we could do it next weekend.

 I was a little nervous about today, the first day of Wolf Blood Summit. Other than several girls I met at the dining hall, I haven’t really made any friends. This morning we attended a briefing about our schedule. Basically, from Mondays to Thursdays, we’re supposed to be at the pack’s ranch for the summit activities. We can either ride the shuttles, arrange our own car service, or car pool with those who drove their vehicles here.

The ranch is huge, with state-of-the-art facilities built especially for wolf-blood events. It has a basketball court, tennis court, swimming pool, and acres of open land. Perfect for wolf runs. It even has a small man-made lake, complete with paddle boats. There’s also a decent size pond with a small walkway bridge. We have to sit through lectures in the mornings, go for lunch, and do some sort of team building workshops in the afternoons. Fridays are rest days, but we are mandated to go to the bonfire and wolf runs at night. We can spend the weekends however we want as long as we follow the host pack’s rules and behave ourselves. I already know that weekends are going to be my favorite. 

The briefing took longer than it should have. I was picking music to listen to on my phone while walking through the corridors to head to the stairs, when big strong arms pulled me to the side.

“Kayleigh cakes… are you hiding from me?” Icy-blue pools that remind me of Billie Eilish’s song “Ocean Eyes” stare into my own blue eyes.

“Andrei! Where have you been? And why would I hide from you?” I chuckle. Still not breaking away from his tight hold of me, I rest my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

“I’ve been stuck with the other Alpha heirs. You know we have a different schedule than you guys. We were already here at six for the morning run. I’m starving. Wanna go get lunch?”

“Yeah, sure. Wanna go to the dining facility?”

“Nah, let’s take my ride. I wanna take you to this hole in the wall place that has the best hotdogs ever. I’m pretty sure since it’s the first day we’re off for the afternoon.” He winks flirtatiously at me.

“Umm, no we’re not. We have to be here this afternoon for the workshops. You’re not going to get away from the schedule, Andrei. Not while I’m here,” I tease.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. Let’s go. We’ll be back in time for the workshop. We have about two hours to burn anyway. Please? I’m so bored here.” He lets go of me and gives me a pleading look. I roll my eyes but give in, as always.

We head to the parking lot where his car is parked. His hand is on the small of my back while we walk. He doesn’t miss when I look around to check out the vicinity for a certain Alpha-hole. 

“He’s not here. Kinsley picked him up after our run this morning.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Who’s not here? Who did Kinsely pick up?” There’s my poor attempt at pretending I didn’t know who he was talking about.

“Hmm. I like how you think I don’t know what goes in your mind…and in your heart, Kayleigh.”

“Andrei, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Weren’t you just looking around, hoping to spot Cillian nearby?” He opens the door to his car and helps me in. Even with a hint of jealousy in his words, he’s still very caring to me.

“No. The thought of anything Cillian hasn’t crossed my mind until you mentioned him.” Seeing that he is already upset, speculating that I am thinking about Cillian, I lie.

He starts the car and reverses so we can get on the road. I stare at his very handsome face. He has this bad boy look/mysterious aura. Must be the Romani gypsy in him on his mom’s side. If Cillian has the Jacob Elordi look going on for him, Andrei looks like a more sinister version of Hero Fiennes Tiffin. Tall, trim but muscular, and sinfully handsome.

Wanting to break the silence, I clutch his hand and entwine our fingers. “So, what’s special about the hotdogs that you’re talking about? Are they fancier and with better toppings than Irish hotdogs?”

“Malyshka, they’re not even the same level. You’ll see.” His smile replaces the cloud of gloom on his face. I like when he calls me Malyshka. I don’t exactly know when he started calling me that, but I like it so much. I like that it kinda gives me a sense of pride that I’m someone to him. What am I to him? I really don’t know. Through the years, we’ve fallen into this deep friendship that lingers between friends and almost-lovers. He flirts with me—a lot. And I’m not gonna lie… I like it and I even encourage it most of the time.

We were busy catching up and don’t even notice when we arrive at the place. It’s a gas station. I mean, it looks like a fancy-looking gas station, but it’s a gas station. A big sign above the small building reads, The Embassy Travel Center. Eyebrow arched, I give him a curious look.

“I promise, they have good hotdogs here. Nothing like the ones you’re used to back home,” he sniggers as he reaches for my hand.

It takes us only a few minutes to get several kinds of hotdogs from the hotdog roller. We grab some drinks and head to a table. Andrei can’t stop grinning. He is so excited for me to try the hotdogs. “After you, my lady.” He signals for me to take the first bite.

“Ummm… this is good. So simple but yet so…beefy. So juicy.” I can’t believe I’m enjoying American hotdogs. We usually put slices of corned beef and sauerkraut on our hotdogs back home. Andrei smeared our hotdogs with a lot of mayo and a little ketchup, and I’m so surprised by how good it turned out. “Never thought that mayo would go so well with hotdogs,” I mutter in between chewing.

“Mayo makes everything taste better,” he says, grinning. His eyes gleam like a child’s.

“Of course you say that—Russians love mayo,” I tease.

“I’m not even going to deny that,” he says, nodding with a smirk.

I surprise myself by eating more than one hotdog. I’m not a big red-meat eater. I usually stick with chicken or fish. Either I really like these American hotdogs or I’m really famished. I’m so glad Andrei is here in Missouri, at the Wolf Summit. I’d probably die of boredom or loneliness if he wasn’t.

We clean up our table and get ready to leave, when a group of young men enters the building. Sometimes I feel like I’m a magnet for bad luck because, of all the people inside the place, the burliest one sets his eyes on me and saunters towards where I’m standing. 

“Looky, looky, what do we have here?” I detect an odd accent in his voice.

Not that I’m scared of them, but I know that Andrei is a hot-head. I don’t want him to get in any fights for my sake, so I immediately loop my arm around his and coax him to leave. “Let’s go, Andrei.”