Chapter 16 #3
She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes as hard as she can, and I glance over my shoulder at Sasha.
He’s standing there with his hand on the back of his neck, his button-down shirt rolled up at his elbows and pulling tightly across his chest and shoulders, and another unreadable expression on his face.
I glance back down at Stella. “I have to go hop in the shower and get ready for dinner.”
“Why do you have to get ready for dinner?” she asks.
“Because I had a rough day and feel gross, and I want to shower and start all over.”
Her eyes light up like the thought never occurred to her that a shower could have the power to wash away a bad day and let you start fresh. “That’s a good idea,” she says. “Maybe I should take a shower and wash away my day too.”
“You had a bad day?” I ask.
She nods and I take her hand. “Come tell me about it while I pick out something to wear tonight, then we’ll both take our showers and wash the ickiness away, okay?”
We head down the hall together, hand in hand, and I let her tell me about all the things that went wrong in her day: she didn’t get to sit next to Harper during circle time, she struggled with subtraction at one of her math stations, Jason got her out during dodgeball in PE, and their music teacher was sick so they had to watch a boring video with a substitute instead.
I’m reminded of what I’ve heard so many parents say: little people, little problems. But they are big problems to her, and I’m glad this is the stuff she’s focused on instead of worrying about things like how her uncle will manage to adopt her.
I’ve just stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me when my phone buzzes rapid-fire on the counter. I pick it up to see several messages from Sierra. I do the math and realize it must be close to midnight in Europe, which is where I think she is right now.
Sierra
Beau was just catching up on the playoff games from the last few days. He paused during the New York/Philadelphia game and was like “Is that Petra?”
Sierra
Imagine my surprise to see you at a game in New York, wearing a player’s jersey and giving him fuck-me eyes on national television?!?!
Sierra
What the hell is going on, and whose kid were you holding?
Oh shit. Well, this is going to be hard to explain.
Petra
It is a REALLY long story and I can’t explain right now because I am about to host dinner for two people I hardly know. Can we catch up about this in a few days? I’m back in Park City this weekend. Let’s chat then.
Sierra
You’re seriously going to make me wait almost a whole week for answers?
Petra
Sorry babe, but yes. I am still in NY and can’t really talk about this while I’m here.
Sierra
Wait! Still WHERE in NY? Like, you’re not dating this guy, are you?
Petra
No, definitely not dating him. I’ll catch you up on all of this soon. Promise!
There is no way I can update Sierra on this without telling Jackson and Lauren, too, and I can only imagine that Jackson is going to be hurt I didn’t tell her when I talked to her last week.
And now she’ll know that it wasn’t work that kept me from seeing her when she was in Park City, it was staying here with and for Aleksandr. Oh shit, how much can I even tell them?
There’s a knock on my bathroom door and it’s cracked open. I throw my phone down on the counter as if I have something to feel guilty about.
“Okay if I come in?” Sasha’s voice floods the room, and I swear I can feel it glide over my skin like a caress.
I feel that familiar pull between my legs and have to remind myself that I spent most of the day thinking that sleeping with him was a mistake.
It’s only going to make an already complicated situation that much more difficult.
“Sure,” I say.
He pushes the door open and reaches over to set a copper cup on the counter. “I made you a Moscow Mule. I hope you like those?”
“I like any drink that’s not too sweet,” I tell him.
His gaze flows over me, taking in my hair piled in a messy bun on top of my head, my makeup-free face, my bare shoulders, and the towel that’s wrapped around me and tucked in between my breasts.
His eyes are hungry, and I glance down to where his pants now look like they’re too tight in the crotch.
I look back up at him, smirking intentionally.
“I really want to take that towel off you and see how much fun we could have before Stella gets out of the shower,” he tells me.
“Too risky,” I say.
“It took her forever to pick out pajamas for tonight. She just got in the shower. We’ve got at least ten minutes.”
I feel my nipples hardening against my towel.
“We don’t have time,” I say. “Tom and Avery will be here soon.”
His look is both tender and possessive, like he wants to own me, but gently. “I bet we can manage it.”
I know we shouldn’t. It’ll make things feel rushed before our company comes and it’ll make things between us even more complicated than they already are. But my vagina isn’t having any of my logic, it’s literally seeping with desire and sending waves of longing through me.
“How quick can you be?” I ask.
He steps in and closes the door behind him, pushing the button to lock it. “I guess we’ll find out.”
When his lips land on my neck and my towel drops to the floor, the only thought running through my head is: this is how all bad days should end.