Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
VIKTOR
Avelina has smiled and talked all through dinner this evening. My brain has barely registered any of it. Not because I’m not listening, but because I can’t stop watching her. The way her mouth moves, the way her eyes crinkle. And her laugh lights something within me that has no name.
But that same something also leaves my stomach twisted in knots. My hunt to name it doesn’t come up with anything productive. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.
After dinner finishes, I tell Avelina that I have some stuff to do with the guys. She takes the children up for bathtime, and I tell her that I’ll come find her once I’m finished.
I don’t know what Grigory has planned, but we meet in the rec room as directed in his text. Grigory has already told everyone else that it’s out of bounds tonight because he’s conducting training.
I walk into the room. The usual suspects are already gathered, including Matvey, Nikolai, and a few of the others. They’re all hunched over mugs of coffee and a bag of half-stale donuts someone forgot to eat.
Grigory strolls in behind me. “Phones down!” he orders like we’re about to strategize some important mission. “We’ve got an urgent matter to deal with.”
Matvey immediately starts whining. “I’ve got places to be, Grigory, and I haven’t got time for some dumb training session.”
Nikolai cuts in. “Is this about the electricity bill again? I’m telling you that power cut was nothing to do with me. It was those guys who broke in—”
“Quiet!” Grigory barks. “You’re here because we’re doing dating training.”
“Huh?” Nikolai blurts out.
“What for?” Matvey asks at the same time.
“To teach Viktor how to take a girl on a date,” Grigory announces.
Dead silence meets his statement.
I shift from one foot to the other, my hand instinctively curling into a fist.
“Viktor here,” Grigory says, motioning toward me like I’m some prized poodle at a damn dog show, “is taking Avelina out for dinner. And we’re gonna help make sure he doesn’t make an ass out of himself.”
I want the ground to swallow me whole.
Nikolai blinks. “Wait…are you serious?”
“Yeah. Now sit the fuck down.”
They all do as he says, albeit some more reluctant than others. Nikolai stares at me like I just sprouted antlers. “You? Dating?” he says slowly.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” I say as I rub the back of my neck.
Matvey lets out a low whistle. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”
“I’m out,” Nikolai declares, shoving back his chair and heading for the door.
“Sit down!” Grigory growls. “Brothers are always here for each other.”
Nikolai seems to have forgiven me for the drone incident, but he still isn’t convinced by Grigory’s idea. “Look, Viktor, you know I’d lay down my life for you, but can’t I just take you to a strip joint if you want some pussy?”
“You all need to shut the fuck up,” Grigory snaps.
He’s clearly already losing patience with us all, and that’s a bad sign.
“This is how we’re going to do it.” He points to the corner where an old folding table sits surrounded by mismatched chairs.
“That table is the restaurant. Viktor, you’re on a date. Nikolai, you’re playing Avelina.”
“Fuck, no!” Nikolai blurts out. “Why do I have to be the girl?”
Grigory glares at him, a murderous look in his eyes.
“Okay, okay, but I ain’t wearing a pink dress or any other girly shit,” Nikolai whines.
“Not like you wear shit that fits right anyway,” Matvey mutters.
Nikolai flips him off before Grigory whistles sharply. “Stop behaving like fucking children,” Grigory yells. “Focus. Alright, Viktor, you’re going to pick her up.”
“Pick her up? But she’s living with us already.” My hesitation is clear.
“Walk over there,” Grigory sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Act like you’re meeting her on the stairs or some shit. Be human for five seconds, okay?”
I look at him and then shove from my chair. Approaching slowly, my palms are already sweating—and this is only the fucking fake practice run. My chest tightens.
Nikolai stands awkwardly by the door. He mutters a Russian curse under his breath before he sighs. “Hello, Viktor,” he says in some annoying high-pitched voice that sounds more deranged than anything. “I’m Avelina. And I wore this just for you, babykins,” he announces as he smooths down his shirt.
I blink rapidly. Laughter erupts in the room, and I grit my teeth, hand clenching and unclenching.
“For fuck’s sake,” Grigory says as he glares at the snickering men. “Viktor, once you get to the restaurant, you need to sit down.”
I stare at him for a long second before rushing to get to the chair opposite the wall, snatching it from Nikolai before he can sit in it like he’s clearly planning to.
“What the hell are you doing now?” Grigory clips.
I point to the TV screen on the wall, the one I like to watch the figure skating on. “It faces the screen,” I mutter.
A collective groan sounds, and Matvey chucks a stale donut at my head. “You’re going on a date, Viktor. There won’t be a TV screen to watch,” Matvey says. “And you should be pulling out a chair for her, not practically shoving her out of the way and ripping it out of her hold.”
I sit stiffly across from Nikolai—Avelina—and look at my hands. My stomach flips. The silence drags on. I count the grooves in the wood of the table.
“Viktor, talk,” Grigory says, his tone terse.
“Talk about what?” I say weakly.
“Whatever you two talk about. Ask her about her day. Or talk about your garden or something.”
I turn back to Nikolai and stare. “But it’s Nikolai...”
“Pretend.”
That’s the problem, isn’t it? I don’t work like this. Playing pretend, making up fake scenarios. I sigh before I lift my gaze, only to stare at Nikolai’s forehead and not his eyes. “How...uh...how was your day?”
Nikolai bats his lashes. “Oh, you know. Just raising two kids, messing around with some spreadsheets, falling in love with some grumpy Russian assassin guy. Same old,” he says in a squeaky voice.
I shift in my seat. “That’s not how she talks,” I mutter. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
“It’s practice,” Grigory says firmly.
“But it’s not real. He’s not talking how she talks.”
“This practice is so that you don’t freeze up during the real thing,” Matvey explains from where he sits. “It’s like running through mission plans and stuff beforehand to prepare yourself.”
“I’m not going to freeze up.”
“You have twice already,” Grigory says dryly. “You need to loosen up,” Then he tosses a couple of takeout menus onto the table.
I sit and look through the menu, but I’m disturbed by a loud cough.
I glare as I look up at Grigory. “What now? I’m pretending to decide what to eat.”
“You need to make conversation. This date isn’t about eating. It’s about interacting with her.”
“If it’s not about eating, then why am I even taking her to dinner in the first place?” My voice comes out as a wail.
Matvey just gives a shake of his head as he looks on.
Christ, I’m no good at social niceties because of my autism. I’m awkward and unnatural. This ‘training’ isn’t helping me at all. All it’s managing to do is send my thoughts racing out of control and my anxiety spiraling through the roof—I’m already at a fucking eight out of ten.
I stare at them, trying to think of something to say. Anything. My chest tightens as my fist curls on my thigh a little tighter. “What do you want to eat?” I ask finally.
“Chicken nuggets,” Nikolai says instantly, flashing me his teeth in a toothy grin.
“Romantic,” Matvey snorts, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t realize you were five, Nikolai.”
“Fuck you,” Nikolai hisses. “Chicken nuggets are the best—”
“Enough!” Grigory snarls. “Fucking focus.”
“He’s doing better than I thought,” Matvey comments. “He hasn’t insulted her.”
“Yet,” Nikolai mutters.
“Shut up,” Grigory and I growl together just before my phone buzzes. Automatically, I lift it to answer. “What?”
A chorus of groans fills the room.
Grigory yanks the phone away from my hand with a shake of his head. “No.”
“I was just—”
“Learning how not to be a dick to her,” he finishes.
My shoulders stiffen. “I don’t understand. Why waste more words than the minimum needed? And why can’t I answer calls and do my job at the same time as taking her on a date? I mean, she knows that I’ve got a job.”
“It’s supposed to be a conversation,” Matvey explains. “With back and forth so you can learn about each other.”
I scowl. “I already know about her. And she already knows about me.”
“Try giving her a compliment,” Grigory prompts.
I glance at Nikolai. “You, er, look nice.”
Nikolai flutters his lashes again. “Oh, Vikky, you smooth talker,” he giggles, bringing his fingers up to cover his mouth in a coy manner.
More laughter erupts, and I clench my fist harder, resisting the urge to bolt. My ears burn. This isn’t fucking working. I’m better off trying to learn this shit from a book. Or the internet or something. Or better yet, give up the idea completely.
But then I remember the way Avelina looked earlier. The way she felt beneath my fingertips. The way her face flushed in passion. The way she smiled at me like I was more than just some robotic mafia soldier.
She makes me feel like I’m something good.
Something worth loving.
Not something broken and strange.
“Tell me something nice about her,” Grigory says.
I take a breath. “She’s smart,” I say suddenly. “And funny.”
“And?”
“She listens. And she…makes the world feel like a better place.”
There’s more silence from the guys. Shit, did I mess up again? I try to swallow the feeling rising in the back of my throat.
Nikolai sets down the paper menu he’s been messing around with. “Damn, that was actually kinda sweet.”
“Yeah,” Grigory says with a look of relief. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Viktor.”
Matvey gives me a slight nod. “Now ask her about her likes or something.”
“What? Why? I already know that.”
“Everything?”
“Well...no. What do I ask?”