Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SLOANE
I’m back at Kirill’s after picking up Lev from therapy, and all I can think about is my son—how much I want him with me, how wrong it feels that he isn’t.
How long can I go on like this? This pain, the constant state of missing him, is like a permanent fixture of my existence.
Lev settles on the sofa in the den with his book on constellations, headphones over his ears, humming softly under his breath as he turns a page.
I take the couch across from him just as my phone buzzes in my hand.
Mandy’s name flashes on the screen, and my stomach dips before I even read it.
She’s probably already found out I’m not coming back to the diner, and I haven’t had a chance to tell her about my new job.
Mandy
Um, do you hate me or something?
Sloane
What? No, of course not.
Mandy
Then why in the hell did I just find out from MARK that you’re not working at the diner anymore? I mean, I thought as your BFF, I would at least receive this news from, you know, you? But what do I know…
Sloane
Don’t be dramatic. I still love you. It just happened so suddenly and I haven’t had time to tell you.
Mandy
What happened?
Sloane
I got another job.
Mandy
Okay, and that is?
If you tell me you have decided that climbing Kirill is your new permanent position, I MAY be able to forgive you. I will wait to see what you say before I decide.
Sloane
How generous of you. The job is with Kirill.
Mandy
Now we’re talking.
Sloane
I ran into Kirill and he was telling me how he needed a nanny for Lev and, well, I got the job.
Lying isn’t my proudest moment, but it’s not like I can tell her the truth.
Mandy
Holy. Shit. Wait, are you living with Mr. Russian Hottie? Or should I call him DILF? Nah, I think I prefer Russian Hottie. Has a better ring to it.
Sloane
Yeah, I’m living with Mr. Russian Hottie…
Mandy
OMG. Can I be you? Please?
Sloane
Sure, but nothing is going on between us, so get those dirty thoughts out of your head.
Mandy
The more you tell me to get them out of my head, the more they come barreling in…and damn, they’re filthy.
Sloane
You’re insane.
Mandy
I’m a hopeless romantic. Sue me.
Sloane
Kirill and I are just friends. And now I’m his son’s nanny, so there is negative five hundred chance anything is going to happen.
Mandy
Ha! I’ll take that bet. Loser tells winner, “You’re the smartest person I know, and I will never argue with you again.”
(I will be screenshotting this.)
Sloane
I’m rolling my eyes so hard it hurts, but fine. I’ll take your ridiculous bet. Nothing’s happening. So when you lose, I want a handwritten apology. I’ll make sure to get it laminated too.
Just as I hit send, the front door creaks open. I don’t even need to look up to know it’s him. His footsteps move through the house, and every inch of me tightens before he even steps into the room.
When he appears in the doorway, something low and warm unfurls in my stomach, spreading between my thighs.
I swear, this is all Mandy’s fault. He’s in a black dress shirt with two buttons undone and dark gray trousers that mold to his muscular legs, and I honestly don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my thoughts from becoming dirty when he looks like that.
“Privet,” he says to Lev as he steps into the room, glancing at me with a small smirk.
I can’t help but smile, my stomach doing that flip it makes when Kirill looks at me.
Lev slides his headphones off and hurries over, arms going around his father’s waist, and Kirill catches him easily, holding him there before easing back.
“Did you have a good day?”
Lev nods, hugging him again.
“And you?” His gaze pins me, and my foot bounces, afraid that he can somehow look in my eyes and know where I was today.
“I’ve had a nice day too, thanks.” Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I force a smile that I hope he can’t read through.
He stares intently, and every cell in my body turns icy.
He knows. He definitely knows…I think.
“That’s good.” He nods, moving toward the sofa and settling across from me with Lev on his lap. “You didn’t get to do anything fun all day? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay in the house. You can come and go as you please.”
I shrug. “Nah, I had nothing to do.”
Liar.
The word pulses in my brain as soon as it leaves my mouth, because of course he’s going to find out, and I have no idea what he’ll do when he does.
His eyes don’t leave me. That same long, thoughtful look stretches out, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift in response.
Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I’m just freaking out for no reason.
My heart starts racing so fast I can barely hear over it, and I swear he’s about to tell me he knows I lied.
But instead, he kisses Lev on the top of his head and says, “I’m going to change for dinner.”
“Okay…” I tell him as he starts for the stairs.
I sit there, staring at my jeans and tank top, suddenly unsure if I’m supposed to change too.
Do people like him change into something nice for dinner, even at home?
Or does he mean he’s changing into something casual?
I don’t know how any of this works, and I hate that I even care because I’m not his girlfriend. I’m not anything. I’m just the help.
Except I do have a closet full of expensive clothes with nowhere to wear them. Maybe I should start.
“I’ll go change too,” I tell Lev, who’s returned to reading, completely ignoring me.
Heading upstairs, I slow when I pass his door.
He’s right there. Close enough that I could knock.
That I could confess everything. Why I’m here in New Jersey, that I’m a monster, a criminal who lost her son because she once had a drinking problem and nothing she has done since has been good enough.
Tell him that I’m breaking. That I just need one person to hold me up and tell me it’s okay. That I’m okay. That I’m not alone.
Tears fill my eyes, but I blink past them, rushing to my side of the house instead and locking the door behind me.
Closing my eyes, I plant myself against the door, willing myself to calm down. I just need to get Eli what he wants, and then I’m gone. I’ll have my boy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Kirill doesn’t matter. None of this matters.
Straightening my spine, I reach the closet, flipping through dresses and shirts, trying to find something that looks pretty and appropriate.
When I land on a baby-blue floral pencil dress, I run my fingertips over the soft material, remembering when I put it on that day Kirill took me shopping and how much it seemed to please him to see me in it…
I slip the dress on in a hurry, leaving my clothes in the hamper in the corner of the room.
Running my fingers through my hair, I examine myself in the full-length mirror, admiring the way the dress hugs my curves.
But in the last moment, I regret it. What if this was stupid? Maybe I’m too dressed up? Maybe I should just change back.
Instead, I stay at the mirror, still looking at myself, knowing that after I leave Kirill’s, I’m never going to have nice clothes or a warm, glamorous house to call home. So maybe I can play dress-up for as long as it lasts without feeling guilty about it.
As I start out of my bedroom, his door opens at the same time, and when his eyes land on me, my heart nearly gives out. He holds my attention, his gaze intense, chest rising and falling as he lets his heated perusal drift down my body like he’s admiring every inch.
“Uh, hi…” My voice gives out. “I just…I thought I would change too. If you think it’s too much, I can change back.”
A nervous laugh slips free, and he clenches his jaw.
“Keep it on. That dress looks…” He can’t seem to get the rest of the words out, his footfalls moving toward me while I remain stuck here like cement, my pulse bouncing in my skull the closer he gets.
I can’t help returning his stare, taking in the way the black T-shirt and tailored trousers make him seem effortless and put together at the same time.
“So you like it?” I back into the door just as he steps in close, his body nearly touching mine, warmth rolling off him in waves that sink straight into my skin.
His fingers trace a slow path up the center of my dress, gliding from my stomach to the curve between my breasts, and my breathing turns more uneven the higher he goes.
“Shto mne s toboy delat, hmm?” He glances at my lips, his other hand sliding into my hair as he tilts my head back, exposing my throat before his mouth finds the pulse there. “You drive me to madness, Sloane. Do you know that?”
“I do?” A sharp current shoots straight through me and my cheeks flush as the fire inside me flares, spreading fast and impossible to ignore.
“You do. Every single day, every moment.” He presses soft, hungry kisses along my neck, and I let out a moan as my fingers glide into his hair, holding him there, wanting more, wanting everything with him.
“You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, heat rushes straight to my face.
I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Oh God, how could I have said that to him?
A low, guttural growl pulls from his chest as his hand clenches in my hair, winding it around his wrist before he tips my head back, his eyes capturing mine. “Ti vsegda budish moya.”
His body presses into mine, and I register his hardness pushing into me. I want nothing more than to please him, to have him fill my mouth with it, to watch him enjoy what I do to him, but I’m too shy to ask for that.
“We’re supposed to be friends,” he says, like he’s tortured. “I’m not supposed to feel this way for you.”
“I know.”
I’m not supposed to feel this way either.
I cup his cheek, and he leans into my touch like he’s surrendering to me even when he shouldn’t.
“You feel too good,” he tells me.
A sting lands in the back of my throat. I want this to be easy, but how the hell would we even work?
With every breath, with those eyes raw and heated, his mouth lowers until we’re barely apart and all I want is this—to feel his mouth on mine, the hunger, the want. I want to forget everything except the two of us.
“Sloane,” he groans, his lips finally brushing mine, and—
“Papa?”
Lev’s voice cuts through the moment, and Kirill pulls back instantly as I smooth down my dress, my skin burning with a mix of want and shame.
“Shto, senok?”
“Hungry. Eat?”
“Da, da. Paydom.” He clears his throat and glances back at me, giving me a small smirk. “Let’s go eat. He’s hungry.”
“Right. Of course.”
Lev slides his hand into Kirill’s, then takes mine with his other, and when Kirill glances at me, his mouth twitches like he senses it too. This inescapable pull, this quiet sense of something forming.
It almost feels real. Like we truly are a family.