21. Aleksandr
CHAPTER 21
Aleksandr
I call Cinita back, and it goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck .
Now she decides to call.
She’s ignored me from the moment I knew she’d returned, so why is she calling now?
She only calls when she’s in trouble.
Last time I saw her, she told me to stay away. And now she’s calling me again.
Something bad has happened.
Getting in my car, I glance back at Lena’s apartment. Her lights are on, and I can just see her silhouette as she paces in front of the window.
Fuck .
I had her on her knees, and I walked out on her .
It’s so ingrained in me to follow Cinita that it’s only now I realize how fucked-up that is for Lena.
What the fuck am I doing anyway? Didn’t I swear myself to stay away from her?
As I bang my hands on the wheel, my phone rings, and without even looking at it, I answer.
“Cinita.”
“Oh fuck no. Again?” my sister says. “Alek, why are you still on her? What the fuck?”
I don’t even have an answer anymore. Cinita was the first woman besides my sister I ever felt anything for in my life. I wouldn’t say it was love, but a need to protect her was evident. And she loved it, played on it even.
But if I don’t protect her, then who will?
“Where is Lena? You better not have pissed her off. I like that woman.”
Her words take me aback.
And an odd lump forms in my stomach.
My sister doesn’t like anyone.
We don’t like anyone. Right?
“You like Lena?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You don’t like anyone.”
“I like you,” she says, as if she won the argument.
“No, there’s a difference. We are one, Anya. We shared a uterus.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” she says dismissively. “I know you like her too, so get over whatever it is you have for this other woman. And start seeing what is in front of you.”
Anya always has some kind of otherworldly sense of when to call me out on my shit. If she knew what I’d just done, she’d be mad, right? What I did was an asshole thing to do, wasn’t it?
I’ve never thought of a woman’s feelings before. But I know I’ve fucked up.
“Are you still listening to me?” Anya asks.
I hang up on her and get back out of the car. I run up the stairs two at a time, and bang on Lena’s door.
Silence.
I bang again.
“Who is it?” Her voice rings through door.
I lick my lips. She most likely knows who it is.
“Me.”
“Me? Well, you can leave,” she snaps, and I can see her shadow under the door.
“Open the door, Lena.” I knock on it again. She doesn’t answer this time, though I can hear her breathing on the other side. “Now,” I grit. “Or I’ll break down this door. ”
At those words, the door flies open, and she stands there, now dressed in a robe, eyes as fiery as the sun. My gaze immediately dips to her pursed lips, lips that fit perfectly around my cock, as she seethes at me.
“You!” she screams. “Fuck you and her.” She tips her chin up and goes to slam the door in my face. I stop it before she does and capture her wrist. Her eyes fly to my hand as my foot holds the door open. “Let go, Alek,” she growls, and I drop her hand but don’t move my foot.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Am I mad?” she yells. “I was on my knees for you, you fuckhead, and you still thought about her.”
She attempts to push the door shut, but my foot doesn’t move.
“Lena.”
“Go away.” She pushes against the door.
“I’d really like to taste you now.”
She pauses, and her face scrunches in a fit of bewilderment, confusion, and rage.
“Now?” She throws her head back and laughs. “How about… no.” She smiles. “How does that sound?” She kicks my ankle, and I pull my foot back, allowing her to slam the door in my face. “Go and fuck your precious Cinita, you dickhead.” I hear her walk away, and think about breaking he r door down.
But something stops me.
Right now, I don’t even think saying sorry will help.
I take a step back. No, I need to let her calm down.
Why do I care what she thinks of me?
I don’t know, but I do.
I know I fucked up, though.
And I have no idea how to make up for something like this.