9. Lennie #2
But I can’t stand disappointing my mom. And she’ll lose her shit if she knows I’m spending time with Elijah.
Elijah stands up, following me to the door.
“I’ll walk you down.” Albert stands beside his owner, patiently waiting for his leash.
“No.” Dad doesn’t have the guards scan our locations for information anymore, but Elijah’s recognizable.
He frowns at the refusal. “I’m not letting my woman?—”
“Okay, caveman.” I shrug on my coat. The hairpins in my chignon dig into my scalp. I’m ready to go home, but need to clear up one thing first. “This whole ‘my woman’ thing is not happening.”
“Leonora,” his dark voice warns.
“Pick a better nickname,” I tell him, reaching for the door.
He pushes it closed, confining me in the small hallway. His chest is an inch from mine and I remember how tall he is as I look up. “Text me when you get home.”
I manage to nod, a warm amber scent filling my nose.
“And when you wake up,” he demands.
I think he’s taking this whole pretend relationship a bit too seriously but I nod.
“Kiss me goodbye.”
My brows hit my hairline. “W-what?”
There’s no merriment, but also no mirth. He keeps his face blank, his eyes dark and unreadable. The cut of his jawline is sharp, but his brown hair soft in the hall light. Despite the late hour, he wears a button-down shirt and the strap of his watch is made out of black leather.
Albert squeezes in between us, his paws stamping on my feet. It does nothing to push Elijah’s firm chest away from me.
“Kiss me goodnight.” His voice is quiet, but the words demanding.
My lips part but my brain and mouth don’t work.
Elijah’s the type to see his advantage and take it. For some reason, he doesn’t move an inch.
I lift on my tip toes, my fingers brushing his chest for balance. He remains frozen, not even the slightest hint of movement.
Softly, gently, and hopefully in a way that doesn’t scream ‘she doesn’t know what she’s doing!’, I press my lips to his.
My heels drop down to the ground. “Okay, bye.”
I turn and wrench the door open. He slams it shut.
“Elijah!”
My back falls into the door again, his arms caging me.
Those damn unreadable eyes stare down at me.
His fingers skim my jaw, forcing my chin up. If I think he’ll claim a kiss, I’m wrong.
He starts with my forehead. Then my cheek. All gentle brushes along my skin. His lips kiss the corner of mine.
My chest rises and falls, but his calm manner rubs off on me. For a second I’m no longer rigid. My shoulders relax. I lean into him, anticipating his delicate kisses.
His lips pause on mine and I swear I lift on my tiptoes again.
The camera on his phone clicks.
I shove him back. “What the fuck!”
He checks his phone, which I try to see, before tucking it away in his pocket and opening the door.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
“What was that?” I ask as I follow him down the metal stairs. It’s not so creepy down here when there’s someone with you.
He opens the giant door downstairs with a groan, ducking his head out. Seeing the door open, my driver gets out.
“Text me when you’re in the car.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re literally about to watch me walk to it.”
“I’d buckle your seatbelt if you’d let me, but you have this thing about keeping me your dirty secret.”
“I have to go now.”
He lets me, his fingers gliding down my arm as I pass. Even with the thick winter coat, I shiver. And not from the burst of frigid air.
My phone lights up as I shut the car door.
Elijah: Is there a reason you haven’t texted me yet?
Lennie: I didn’t take you for the clingy type.
Elijah: Many people make that mistake.
I expect Mom to be waiting up. Instead, it’s Dad.
He closes the book in his hands, a political memoir, and takes off his reading glasses. His hair is peppered with gray and the lamp next to him, the only light on in the living room, highlights it.
He glances at his watch. “You were out late.”
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head before I’m finished. “I’m just surprised is all.” He scans my dress. “Did you wear a coat?”
I smile. It’s a classic Boris Akatov question.
They say Dad nearly ripped the entire city apart when they kidnapped Mom. He did things to people, killed and tortured them, without a second thought.
I don’t want to upset Mom, but I also don’t want to upset Dad.
I know my parents would do anything for us kids. But I don’t want to put them in that position.
He turns off the lamp, motioning for me to go up the stairs. “I’d offer you a nightcap, but you look tired.”
That’s putting it lightly.
“You have fun tonight?” Dad asks.
I think about Ren dancing at Fujimori’s. About how I burst in and found my friends. I wish I’d thought of a way of kidnapping Albert and taking him home with me.
My lips tingle. I must be stupid, but when Elijah leaned toward me that second time, I thought maybe he wanted another kiss. A deeper one. What’s he going to do with the photo he took?
“Darling?” Dad prompts, following me up the stairs. In his robe and slippers, no one would equate him to the ruthless businessman he is.
“Yes, but you’re right,” I say softly. “I’m too introverted for these late nights.”
Chuckling, he pulls me into a hug, before slipping down the hall.
I toss my dress off and stuff some sweatpants on. There’s the need to cry but for some reason, I can’t as I pull the bedcovers over my head. With weary muscles, I settle into the mattress when the dark room is illuminated.
Elijah: Leonora if you don’t have the basic decency to do as I ask then I don’t see this going well.
Lennie: When you say going well do you mean for you or me? I think I’ll be fine. I can recommend a therapist to work on your clinginess.
Elijah: I take that to mean you arrived home safely.
Elijah: Goodnight Leonora.
Lennie: Goodnight.
The phone drops beside me. Part of me wants exhaustion to take over, to sweep me under so I can close my eyes and block it all out.
My stupid brain doesn’t work like that.
I type out the message before I think better of it.
Lennie: Why are you helping? What do you get out of this?
Nothing in life is free. My father the business man taught me that. Elijah’s not helping me out of the goodness of his heart.
That boy is always up to something. That’s what Mom says every time she comes across his smirking face.
But she’s not wrong. He’s always got a plan up his sleeve. Some sort of trick he’s pulling. So what does he want this time?
Elijah: You.