Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SLOANE
The second we pull away from the ranch, Mandy practically explodes in the backseat beside Lev. She’s trying to hold it in, bouncing in her seat, chewing on the inside of her cheek like the gossip is too juicy to survive another minute.
I know what she’s dying to say: I told you he’s obsessed with you.
But I don’t know what to believe anymore. The man is a well of contradictions too deep to swim through. I sit in the passenger seat, my hands curled in my lap, trying to act normal. Whatever that even means anymore.
He hasn’t said a word since we left. He just drives, one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. Every so often, I feel his gaze slide over to me—not a quick glance, but a slow, measured look like he’s turning something over in his head, and I keep wondering what it is.
My attentions drifts to Lev, clutching his headphones. He’s quiet too, watching the road ahead.
“Rue really liked talking to you. Did you like her horse?”
He doesn’t answer at first, fingers tightening around the headphones, but then I catch it: his mouth tugging up at the corner as he nods.
My heart squeezes. “Yeah, I love horses too. They’re so beautiful, aren’t they?”
I used to dream about having one when I was a kid.
It started with this book about a girl escaping a monster on a magical horse, and after that, I spent years imagining I had one of my own.
A horse that could carry me out of the hell of my childhood.
But that never happened. Magic just doesn’t exist.
I face forward again and let out a slow breath, trying to quiet the swell of emotion and all the memories it drags up.
When my eyes fall shut, I become aware of Kirill’s hand on my knee, sending warmth shooting through me.
It’s as though he sensed something was off and wanted to show me he cares without saying a word.
My insides give a sharp little swoop as I glance over, but he doesn’t look at me.
He just drives, eyes planted on the road like none of this affects him.
Unlike me.
His thumb makes one slow pass across my knee. I squeeze my thighs together to try to tame the reaction, but it only makes it worse.
When we pull into the parking lot, Mandy climbs out slower than usual, like she’s suddenly aware of exactly where his hand still is. She glances back at me.
“Bye,” I say.
“Bye…” She shuts the door, and even from here, I can tell she’s bursting to ask a hundred questions.
“I should probably go with her.” I keep my eyes forward, afraid to look at him. “My car’s still at her place.”
“No.” His answer comes out low and final, like the decision has already been made. “I’ll take you to your car.”
My heart kicks harder as I finally drag my gaze to him. “Are you sure? Doesn’t Lev have therapy? I don’t want to inconvenience you. I need to get to the diner for my shift and was going to change at Mandy’s.”
He looks at me then, really looks, and the force of it sets every nerve in me humming.
His fingers curl more firmly around my knee for a beat before he says, “I’m sure.”
“Okay…” I bite down on my bottom lip, barely holding it together under the way he’s looking at me.
Mandy pulls out first, and he follows her. The silence between us returns, but his hand never leaves my knee, and the moment his hand slides slowly up my leg, then back down again, all logic evaporates. My fingernails dig into the seat as desire blooms low in my gut.
Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me? How cruel it is to touch me like this when we both know we can’t have each other?
His hand moves again, higher this time, stopping just shy of where I’m aching most, like he’s testing me, daring me to react. I steal a glance at him, but he’s still watching the road, his expression cut from stone.
I can feel it anyway—in the tension of his grip, in the faint flex of his fingers against my skin like he’s barely keeping himself in check.
The urge to forget who I am, to forget every reason we’re wrong for each other, slams into me so hard I almost lean into him, almost let go and give in to this pull between us.
“Kirill…” It comes out low as I study his profile, a quiet plea for things I’m nowhere near ready to say.
His hand freezes, then tightens possessively.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he says, tilting his head just enough that our eyes meet. “You make it hard for me to remember all the reasons I’m not supposed to want you.”
He wants me?
My chest throbs at the thought, at the truth behind his words.
His hand doesn’t leave me. If anything, it presses into me, like he’s staking a claim he doesn’t know how to walk away from. We don’t say another word as we follow Mandy toward her place, both of us pretending nothing’s changed. But everything has.
Whatever this is between us, it’s only getting harder to ignore.
The diner is louder than usual, every clink of silverware and burst of laughter grating against my nerves as I tie my apron and force myself back into motion.
If I keep moving, if I keep working, maybe my body will forget the way Kirill’s hand felt on my thigh. The way his eyes tracked me at the stables like I was something he wasn’t supposed to want but couldn’t stop looking at anyway.
Mandy, of course, hasn’t forgotten the way he acted and is still dying to talk about it—which she would’ve done at her place, but I played the I’m-in-a-rush-to-change-for-work card. She knows all my tricks and let it go.
Until now.
She corners me by the coffee station, leaning one elbow against the counter, eyes sparkling like she’s just been handed the world’s best piece of gossip.
“So…” She drags the word out. “Are we still pretending he isn’t obsessed with you, or are we acknowledging that a very large and sexy man almost ripped someone’s head off because he touched you? Not to mention the way he touched you in the car. You know I saw that, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I focus on the receipts for the day, shuffling and straightening them.
She snorts. “Please. I’ve seen men jealous before. That was territorial. That man is crazy about you. I don’t care what he actually says. Actions speak louder.”
I have no idea how to answer that. If I admit how much I liked it, how badly I want him, it will only make the fact that I can’t have him that much more real.
Mandy keeps going, which is totally on brand for her. “Look, if you don’t want him, that’s fine. Maybe I can shoot my shot and see if—”
“Don’t you dare.” My voice grows uncharacteristically harsh, and the laugh that bursts out of her tells me she was testing me.
Crap.
“Look who else can be territorial.” She wags her brows. “I’m calling dibs on the maid of honor position.”
I scoff. “Well, who else would it be?”
“Your sister?”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a chuckle. “Not if I can help it.”
“Ooh, Sloane’s being bad today. I like it.”
Shaking my head, I let out a sigh. “I’m not stupid. I have always known where I stood with her, but she’s family, so what can I do?”
“Throw her in front of a moving bus? Give her crabs? Maybe at the very least force her to step on some Legos.”
“I think that’s fair.” An easy chuckle slips free. “Anyway, Kirill and I just…we’re not compatible. That’s all. It’s whatever, you know?”
“Sure…” Mandy drags the word out like she’s humoring me. “Whatever you say.”
I pretend not to hear the way she clearly doesn’t believe a single syllable and go wipe down a spot on the counter that’s already clean. Anything to keep my hands moving while she disappears into the kitchen to grab orders.
I know I’m right. Kirill and I are a no-go.
To prove it, my brain starts putting together a list of all the reasons we’d never work, like I can talk myself out of the way he gazes at me.
The way my body reacts when he’s too close.
The way it felt when his hand didn’t let mine go.
I do it anyway, because pretending we don’t work is easier than sitting with how much it hurts that we might.
He doesn’t know me. I’m a murderer with a criminal past. Once he finds out, he’s not going to want me anywhere near Lev.
I’m a mom. What if he doesn’t even want more kids?
He’s older, which is more of a downside for him than me. I’d take him at any age. Wait, no… Maybe I shouldn’t add this to my list.
I have nothing to offer. I don’t have money or an education. I would suck up everything he has, and who the hell wants that for a girlfriend?
I’m sure there are plenty more reasons, but I can’t think of any right now.
I let out a sigh, grab the coffee carafe, and start toward the dining room to hit a few tables when I feel someone step up behind me. I go still, the back of my neck erupting in goose bumps as warm, heavy breaths fan over my skin, making every nerve in my body spike with familiar fear.
I don’t know why I don’t turn around. Maybe my intuition already knows. Maybe it’s trying to protect me.
But it’s already too late.
“Hello, Eden. It’s been a long time.”
Eli.
Oh, God. Nonono…
The sound of my name in his mouth hits like a blow. The carafe slips from my fingers, hot coffee splashing over my legs. The burn is sharp, vicious, but it barely registers over the roar in my ears.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Mandy and another waitress rush in on either side of me, reaching for the carafe and my arms, while I stay rooted to the spot.
Panic clamps down so hard I can’t move. My breaths turn jagged, my body folding in on itself because the life I’ve been running from has finally caught up to me.
I force myself to turn, to face him, to prove I’m not losing my mind. But when I do, he’s gone. Like he was never there at all.
I almost convince myself I imagined it, but I know better. I know what I heard. What I felt.
He was here, standing close enough to touch. Somewhere out there, he’s still watching. Waiting for the right moment to take what he wants.
Starting with me.
KIRILL