Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“You seem busy, that’s all.”
He doesn’t reply. I watch his back as he works and remember last night. Remember how he was at dinner. Remember how he was after. My belly does a little flip, but a moment later, my heart sinks.
He doesn’t want me here, but he’s being polite.
“Here,” Lev says, setting a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me.
I’m not hungry, but I set my mug down and pick up my fork.
He doesn’t quite meet my eyes as he pulls out his chair after setting his own plate down. I’m about to open my mouth—to ask if something happened or if I did something—
when his phone rings.
Abandoning his breakfast, he goes to the counter and looks at the display. He mutters what I’m sure is a curse in Russian under his breath and picks up the phone. Turning his back to me, he walks into the living room and answers the call.
I eat a bite of the eggs but taste nothing.
He speaks in Russian to whoever is on the phone, and he sounds angry. But maybe that’s just how Russian sounds. Or maybe Lev isn’t a morning person.
When he raises his voice just before disconnecting the call, I focus on my plate, listening as he returns to the table. He doesn’t sit down but takes his still full plate and dumps the uneaten breakfast into the trashcan.
I cram another forkful into my mouth, cover what I haven’t eaten with a napkin, and follow his lead to empty my plate, but he catches my wrist before I turn it over.
“You didn’t eat,” he says.
His grip is harder than it needs to be, like he’s still angry from that call.
I look down at where he’s holding me, see the difference between us. See how big his hand is and how easily he could snap my wrist if he wanted to.
My mind races to last night, to how he gripped my knee the same way at the restaurant. What had he said he did? Odd jobs for his uncle? I didn’t think much of it then—probably due to the wine, not to mention my hormones going crazy around him.
No hormones to muddle my thoughts this morning, though.
This morning, he’s just scary.
It seems like an eternity passes as these thoughts race through my head, but I know it’s just seconds, and when I turn my gaze up to his, he lifts his too.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I stare into his now almost black eyes.
Clearing his throat, he releases my wrist and takes a step backward.
I can breathe again and turn my attention to clearing off my dish, then place it on top of his in the sink.
“Ready?” he asks, his voice tight as he picks up his keys.
“Ready,” I say, slipping on my jacket and picking up my purse, remembering the pepper spray Rachel had given me. Not that I think I’ll have to use it, but Lev is different this morning.
He opens the front door and gestures for me to step out. It’s a gray morning with a light drizzle falling. I hate rain, and when it comes, I wish it would rain hard and get it over with, then move on, but some of these gray days seem to melt into whole weeks, especially this time of year.
Lev opens the passenger door, and I get in. This time, I don’t wait for him to strap me in but do it myself.
He glances over at me when he settles into the driver’s seat and nods his approval, then starts the car, and we begin the tense drive to my house.
“I really can take the bus,” I try again when his phone dings with a text message that he quickly glances at before setting it facedown on the console.
“I’m sure you can, but you won’t.” He keeps his gaze straight out the window.
I look straight ahead too, gritting my teeth. “I don’t like feeling like a burden. I’m capable of taking care of myself.” I pause. “And you clearly have somewhere else you’d rather be,” I add a moment later.
He snorts, and I glance over to see him give a shake of his head as he shifts his gaze to me, a smile or a sneer on his face.
“You’re not a burden. I just have some shit I have to take care of.” He schools his features, and it’s silent again for a long moment. “Who’s Joshua?” he asks again, taking me by surprise.
Our eyes meet for a split second, and in that instant, I see Lev like he was last night.
I turn to look out my window as I tug my scarf closer even though it’s warm in the car.
“You called out his name in your sleep.”
Shit.
“Twice.”
He slows the car as we hit rush-hour traffic.
Taking a deep breath, I slip my hand beneath my shirt sleeve and rub the skin there. I turn back to find Lev’s eyes on me.