Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALEKSANDR
It’s early afternoon when the doors to the elevator open into my apartment. I step into the entryway and am met with . . . nothing.
What did you expect, a fucking welcoming party?
When I first bought this place, it was my refuge.
My calm oasis in the busy city. I could open the door and walk into silence, leaving the stress of practice, the chaos of the streets below, and the pressure of the game all behind me.
When I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone, which was most of the time honestly, I could hide out here.
But over the past few months, I guess I’ve gotten used to Stella being here, usually with a nanny, sometimes also with a housecleaner or a private chef.
So today’s silence is leaves me feeling, I don’t know . . . alone? But not in the good way.
I’ve finished getting my bags out of the elevator when Petra’s text comes in.
Petra
Just picked up Stella at school, and we are going to run some errands. We’ll be home in a couple hours. What do you want to do for dinner tonight?
For some reason, a couple hours feels like an eternity. I’ve been away from them for nearly four days. I miss Stella like crazy, and Petra, well, I always want more time with her.
Aleksandr
How about I order something. What sounds good?
Petra
I have a voracious appetite, everything sounds good. Let me see what Stella wants.
Why does her comment have me wondering if she has a voracious sexual appetite as well?
I bet she does. She strikes me as someone entirely comfortable with her own body, who wouldn’t let feelings or relationship status get in the way of satisfying her needs.
Which makes her all that much more dangerous to be around.
Because it doesn’t matter that I’ve wanted her since I was seventeen.
I can never have her, even if it’s what she wants.
I don’t know why she would want that, given that I made it abundantly clear when we were teenagers that I did not see her like that.
And since she’s been back, I’ve continued with that charade, plus I’ve lied to her, basing our whole arrangement on partial truths.
She can’t, and shouldn’t, trust me. Not to mention she’s working for me planning our end of season celebration in addition to being responsible for Stella.
Having sex with her would be wrong on every level.
I shake my head. How did I even go down that path?
There is no indication Petra is even interested in a sexual relationship.
Except, the way she was looking at me that day in the kitchen when I took my shirt off, and that moment we shared right before that frigid witch Irina showed up.
The way she looked at me when I got out of the shower the other day, and her voice grew even more husky on the phone last night when I told her I was getting into the bath.
I’d be lying to myself if I couldn’t admit that there was some heat in those moments.
But most of the “heat” has come in the moments she’s mad at me, which seem to outnumber the moments she looks like she’s undressing me with her eyes.
Petra
Stella says pasta.
Aleksandr
Okay, I know an Italian restaurant she likes. Want me to order a few different things and we can just share?
Petra
Sounds great.
Aleksandr
Anything you don’t eat?
Petra
Nope. I’m an equal opportunity consumer of all food. Get dessert too!
A couple hours later, they still aren’t home, and I’m heading downstairs to grab the food delivery when Tom calls.
It’s as if he could sense that I just spent a couple hours trying not to think about whether Petra spending more time with Stella is making her any more likely to help me get citizenship so I can adopt my niece.
“Any progress?” he asks.
“Nope.”
“You said I needed to let you do this your way,” he says, “but the needle has not moved forward enough since you two were in my office.”
“You don’t push a woman like Petra,” I tell him. “She’ll decide in her own time.”
“Well, let’s just hope nothing happens while we’re waiting for her to make up her fucking mind.” Tom sounds pissed off.
“What’s up?” I ask. “You aren’t this mad about my situation. What’s got you so spun up?”
Tom sighs. “Avery’s going away with her girlfriends this weekend.”
I try not to let my laughter escape as the elevator doors open. I take the bag from the delivery man who’s standing there, nod my thanks as I hand him a cash tip, and step back into the elevator before it closes. “You sound so pathetic right now.”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
Tom’s been dating his assistant for a few months now, and after a very tumultuous beginning, they’re practically inseparable.
“Is this the first time you’ll spend a night apart since she moved in?”
“Yep. What are you doing tonight? I probably need to get out of my apartment, want to go grab a drink or something?”
“Can’t. I just got home, haven’t seen Stella in a few days. Besides, Petra probably has plans tonight since she’s kind of been stuck home while I’m gone.”
Tom starts to say something, then pauses. Finally, he says, “Avery wants to see Petra again.”
“Why? Do they know each other?” Didn’t they only meet for like two seconds when Petra came to Tom’s office last week?
“Petra sent her flowers on Friday as a thank you for arranging her hotel, and they’ve been texting since then. You guys want to come over for dinner one night or something?”
“When’s Avery back? Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
“I have a game Sunday night, but maybe Monday?” I ask as I walk back into my apartment and bring the food into the kitchen.
“Sure,” he says.
“I don’t really have a sitter for Stella, so how about you guys come here instead?” I take the containers out of the bag and set them on the counter.
“Fine.” The word is clipped, his voice annoyed.
“Man, you sound like a real asshole right now. Go out and have some fun while Avery’s away. You used to know how to do that before her, remember?”
“Before her, I used to know how to go out to pick up girls. Can’t really do that now,” he says. “Or, I don’t want to anyway.”
I hear the elevator doors open. “Okay, Stella and Petra are home, I gotta go. Go get drunk tonight or something,” I suggest. “Don’t just sit home pining for Avery.”
“Asshole,” Tom mumbles as he hangs up the phone.
I hang up the phone and walk into the entryway, and Stella runs to meet me in the dining room, then wraps her arms around my legs so I’m immobile. I run my huge hand over her hair. “I missed you,” I tell her.
“Missed you more,” she says.
“Who were you talking to?” Petra asks as she follows Stella into the room.
“Tom.”
“Your lawyer?”
I nod and bend down to pick up Stella for a proper hug.
“Why is he pining for Avery? Isn’t she his executive assistant?”
Oh, she doesn’t know. Of course she doesn’t. “They’ve been living together for a few months.”
Her mouth forms a perfect little O. “I had no idea. Maybe that’s why she loves her job so much?” Petra laughs, and the sound rumbles around in my belly the same way it rumbles around in her throat.
She glances at Stella where she rests her head on my shoulder, the back of her head toward Petra. “Think they have sex at work?” Petra mouths silently.
I raise my eyebrows and nod my head knowingly, and Petra laughs.
“Can we eat dinner?” Stella asks. “Then I need to go pack my bag.”
“Pack what bag?” I ask.
“For my sleepover with Harper tomorrow.” Stella gives me such a huge grin that I don’t know what to say in response. “Thank you for saying yes!” She gives my neck another big squeeze before wiggling out of my arms and moving toward the kitchen.
Petra opens her mouth to say something, but I silence her with, “We’ll talk about this later.”
She raises an eyebrow like she’s looking forward to going toe-to-toe with me over this. I don’t know if I love it or hate it that she never backs down from a fight.
Over dinner Stella catches me up on the last few days, including updating me on the situation with Jason, who hasn’t so much as said a word to her since she pushed him down at recess. Petra looks absolutely imperious about this, but it’s only been a day. We’ll see if the truce lasts.
“When do I get to come to one of your games?” Stella asks, out of the blue.
“You want to come to a game?”
“I bet it would be more fun to watch in person than on TV!”
“You watched my games?”
“She watched the first period of each game this week,” Petra clarifies. “The second and third periods were too late for her to stay up for.”
What is this tightness in my chest?
“You watched the games too?” I ask.
“Of course.” I can’t decipher the look she gives me. She seems confused at my surprise, but I know for a fact she hadn’t watched any of my games before this week.
“I used to watch them all the time with Papa,” Stella says, and I marvel at how well-adjusted she sounds when she talks about her parents. Meanwhile, I can hardly think of Niko without evoking all kinds of rough emotions.
“I could probably get tickets to Sunday’s game,” I say, “if you both want to come.” I don’t want to assume that just because Stella wants to be there in person, Petra does too.
Stella and Petra look at each other and grin. “Perfect,” Petra says. “But see if you can get tickets close to the ice. I don’t want to be stuck up in a box away from the action.”
That makes me chuckle, because of course she wants to be where the action is.
And in a way that’s easier for me too, because if she showed up in one of the luxury boxes where most of the other wives and girlfriends will be watching the game, my teammates would be all over me in two seconds.
As far as they know, Alex Ivanov lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps hockey—there is no time for anything else.
They don’t even know about Stella, so how in the world would I explain Petra?
“Explain to me why I just helped my niece pack for a sleepover I already said no to,” I say as I walk into the den after putting Stella to bed.