Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
DEMITRI
I watch Mia slip into the bathroom before I move off the bed. Her pain kills any afterglow I might have, but I feel like this is a new development. She’s never shown her vulnerability before. Never let it slip that what we are doing is slowly killing her. I wish she knew that I’m not here because of the sex. Not anymore. Might have started that way, but it’s become something else. Something more. In all honesty, if Mia told me she didn’t think she could ever have sex again, I would still be here. I crave her presence in my life. When she asked if I would ghost her again, it took everything in me not to confess that I’d never left her, she just couldn’t see me.
I finally drag myself out of bed and go into the hall bathroom to clean up. There’re a lot of things to do today, and they won’t get started until I can wash off the shame of what just happened. The guilt. I never want to make her feel that way again, but God help me, I don’t know how to stop.
Stepping under the hot water, I place my hand on the wall that I know connects to Mia’s bathroom. She might not let me be there for her post-sex breakdown she thinks I don’t know she’s having, but I do know, and I am here, as much as she’ll allow it.
Should I walk away? Probably. I know that what’s going on here isn’t healthy—for either one of us. But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to look at the woman who means more to me than anyone else in this world and tell her I’m done. Because I think we both know it would be a fucking lie. I’ll never be done. She’s my endgame, even if that game is never finished. I’ll die knowing that I was here as much as I could be.
But for now, I have to put those feelings on the back burner. I need information. I need to know what’s going on with this mystery woman the guys claimed was my sister. Does it surprise me the old man had an illegitimate kid? Nope. Not at all. There’re probably a dozen more running around out there who don’t know where they come from. If their moms were smart, that’s exactly how it would stay. The Pavlov name brings nothing but pain, one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Too fucking bad that enemy’s name is already Pavlov, isn’t it?
I get out of the shower and dry myself off, pulling clean clothes from my overnight bag and getting dressed. When I walk by the open door to the bedroom, I see the bed has already been stripped and I hear water running from somewhere in the house. Laundry. Can’t have any reminders that we just did what we did. Not in her personal space. If I were a stronger man, I would have told her no. I would have stopped her. But I’ve tried that before, and it backfired in a horrible way. That was the night I learned if I’m in this at all, I’m in this under Mia’s rules.
I make my way down the stairs, following the sounds to find Mia in the kitchen making coffee and toast. She’s already dressed, her still wet hair pulled back into one of those clip things. Also, little known fact—Mia doesn’t eat breakfast. Unless it’s five a.m. at the diner and it’s because she allowed herself to drink the night before and she needs the grease. When I see her pull out the grape jelly and butter, I know the toast is for me. Just like my favorite vodka at the bar, she surrounds herself with things that I like, things that will make me happy. I only wish I knew why.
“Coffee’s ready. Take a seat.”
She isn’t looking at me, concentrating hard on spreading the jelly on the toast. I give her a few minutes before I can’t take it anymore.
“Mia, is this going to be too much? Me staying here?”
She jerks her head up, finally meeting my eyes. “What? Why would you ask that?”
“Because what just happened, what we just did? That wasn’t healthy. For either one of us.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, avoiding my gaze.
“You know damn good and well what I mean. Doing something that brings tears to your eyes and makes you cry in the shower afterwards isn’t healthy.”
“I did it for you!” she tries to defend.
“I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. Don’t you get it? I like you, Mia. I like your brain, and your wit, and your smartass comments. Yeah, I like your body, too, but when you see it as a weapon…” I trail off, knowing there’s no way to say this without laying all my cards on the table. “I appreciate you asking me to stay here. I really do. But I don’t expect for you to ever offer yourself to me, nor do I want you to if that is the aftermath.”
“So you don’t want me.” It’s a statement. In her mind, it’s her truth.
“That is not what I said, and you need to hear me. I want you. I always want you, even when you’re being your stubborn self. But—and this is the but I need you to listen to, Mia—I will not touch you or let you touch me from here on out if the aftermath is you having a breakdown and crying in the shower.”
“And if I say that’s the only way intimacy happens for me? That it always ends that way?”
“Then we have a lot more trust to build up and a lot more talking to do before the clothes come off. And one day, we’ll talk about your missing orgasm, too. But I’ve probably already pushed you too far today for that.”
“All before coffee. What an ass.”
I stand up and slowly walk toward her. I make it very clear that I’m going to touch her face and make sure all my motions are at Mia speed—slow. I cup her cheek, lean in, and kiss her forehead.
“I’ll let you use the jokes now. I’ll let you have this one, but I’ll keep working. I’ll keep waiting. I’ll show you that you can trust me. That you can let yourself be free with me. And I think we do that by slowing everything way down.”
“Are you saying you want to date me?”
I chuckle. This woman. “Mia, I’ve been trying to date you for four fucking years.”
“I don’t know.”
“No need to decide right now. I’m just telling you what my plan is. When you’re ready to get on board, I’ll be here.”
She doesn’t reply. Typical for her when faced with choice. She will want to think about it, agonize over it, turn it inside out and upside down, and then decide. It’s the reason she’s so successful owning a bar in a small town like Rock Hill. I keep my hand on her face, gently rubbing my thumb back and forth over her cheek, until I can tell she’s at her limit. Other people touching her is hard. Knowing what I do, I understand why, but I hate it all the same.
I pull back and grab the coffee cup on the counter behind her and the plate with toast. I nod my thanks and take it back to the table, sitting down and eating. Mia leans against the counter, drinking her own coffee, watching me. She jumps a little when my phone rings, and when I see the name on the screen, the toast I just ate threatens to make a reappearance. But the time has come. I can’t avoid reality any longer.
“Morning, Aunt Linda,” I answer.
“Boy, I don’t know what time-zone you’re in, but it’s after noon.”
“The time-zone where I didn’t go to sleep until almost dawn. Spill it. What do you know?”
“More than I can say over the phone. When will you be here?”
I look at Mia, gauging her response. “I think we can be there in about thirty?” I say while asking Mia. She shrugs her okay.
“We?”
“I’m bringing someone. A friend.”
I fix my gaze on Mia as I say friend. She’s not just a friend, and she knows it.
“A woman kind of friend?” Aunt Linda asks.
“Yes, a woman friend. We’ll see you then.” I disconnect the call before Aunt Linda can say anything more, and Mia grins at me. “What?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Nothing at all.”
“Smartass,” I reply, standing up and taking my cup and plate to the sink. “Let’s get this over with.”
We head toward the front door, Mia picking up her oversized bag and slinging it over her shoulder, following me outside and locking up. When we’ve settled in the truck, she turns to me.
“Who are we going to see?”
“Her name is Linda. Everyone refers to her as Aunt Linda. She’s a…contact for various organizations. A handler of sorts. She knows things. She knows all the things.”
“Including your secrets?”
“All of my secrets.”
“Oh.”
I know what she’s asking. Does she know about her?
“Yes, she knows who you are, Krasotka . I told her about you a long time ago.”
“You did?”
Without taking my eyes from the road, I let her in on a secret. “I never left Rock Hill when all the shit with my family went down. I just disappeared from public. But I never left.”
“Why not? And if you never left, how come I never saw you?”
“I couldn’t leave you,” I admit. “But I knew it wasn’t safe to be around you, either. People were trying to find me, and if I was with you, they might have hurt you to get to me.”
“What’s changed?” she quietly asks. “How is that not any different than what’s going on now?”
“We don’t know for sure what’s going on now, for one. And I don’t know that I could find it in myself to walk away from you no matter what’s going on.”
“Why?”
“I’m not strong enough. That’s why.”
She doesn’t ask any more questions, and I offer no more answers. When we pull into the parking lot behind The Center, the local community space in Briar Mountain, the air in the cab is thick with unsaid words. Maybe one day we’ll be able to really talk about things, but right now there’s other shit to worry about.
“Are you ready?” I ask, turning off the truck.
“Since I’m not really sure what to expect, sure!” She gives me a fake smile and wide eyes, and I laugh at her reply.
“Same. I feel exactly the same. Let’s go see how much my life is fucked, shall we?”