Amara's pov
I couldn't measure up to her or the hooker he had been with at the alley. I had small breasts, a round stomach, and hips with very, very prominent hip dips.
In other words, a bad figure.
I looked back at her and she was leaning into him, her hand was on his arm, a smile was still on her face even though he hadn't returned it and their interaction looked like they were familiar with each other. It was like I wasn't even there. Jealousy brewed in my stomach as she leaned closer and I wanted to retch all over the place. It wasn't like I had some claim on him or he was mine and he preferred busty brunettes over silly-looking pale-skinned blondes and to worsen it all, they interacted in Russian and I felt dumb. He seemed to know Russians everywhere he went.
After what felt like
