Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Holly
“I’m going to shower,” Viktor says to me. “Then we will talk.”
“You need to rest.” I shoo him into the bathroom and then change into my pajamas. It’s basically the sleep version of shorts and a tank top, so I’m not trying to be sexy or anything. I know he needs to sleep, and frankly, last night’s sexual adventure has me second-guessing myself.
I am not the type to have casual sex.
If we continue sleeping together I’m going to get attached.
I don’t want to risk a broken heart for a guy who’s made it clear he’s not into love or relationships. He might not even be that into me. The fact that he wants to sleep with me doesn’t mean anything—lots of guys have wanted to sleep with me over the years. Most of them didn’t care about me.
Generally speaking, Viktor does care about me.
He’s kind and gentle and protective, which means a lot to me, but I regret telling him that he makes me feel safe.
That’s a heavy statement for two people in a business arrangement.
I don’t want him to feel obligated beyond the parameters we already agreed upon. I certainly don’t want pity.
That’s why I acted like sleeping together was no big deal.
In the moment, I thought it was a good idea to act casual.
Now that I’m thinking about it, I realize the mistake I made.
Because if it’s not a big deal, why shouldn’t we keep doing it?
That’s where I screwed up and I still don’t have a way to fix it, so until I think of something, I want to avoid the conversation he’s been trying to have all day.
At the same time, his thoughtfulness does something to me.
Whether it’s the way he went out of his way to get consent before touching me, how protective he is when we’re with his family, or even how considerate he is about my situation.
He doesn’t have to do those things. Yes, we need to make a good show of everything, but he doesn’t have to continue behaving that way in private.
And he does.
“Get on the bed,” I say when he comes out of the bathroom.
He doesn’t have anything on except boxer briefs, and I do my best to avoid looking at his groin area. His hair is damp and loose, falling in his face, which is incredibly sexy but I turn away, trying to be stern as I point to the bed.
“On your stomach,” I continue, reaching for a bottle of lotion I had in my bag. It’s not massage lotion but it’ll work in a pinch.
“Holly, what—” He begins but I cut him off and continue pointing at the bed.
He crawls onto the mattress, face down, and relaxes.
I straddle him from behind and rub some lotion on my hands. “You had a very long day and Coach told you to relax.” I drop my hands onto his shoulders and squeeze.
“You do not have to do this,” he murmurs, but his eyes are closed and I can feel the tension leaving his body.
“I want to,” I say softly. “You’re so good to me, it’s nice to be able to do something in return.
” I drag my hands down the middle of his back, listening to the faint popping of a few vertebrae.
Then I move them back up again, pressing my thumbs into his skin.
I feel more than hear him sigh, and I dig in a little harder, working on a knot I find just beneath his shoulder blade.
He tenses as I work through it but then relaxes again.
I move from one side to the next, taking my time to focus on areas that feel tighter than others.
And through it all, he lays perfectly still.
It seems like he’s all but melted into the mattress and I like seeing him this relaxed.
Since we’ve been together, I haven’t seen him do much in the way of relaxing.
He’s always on the go, thinking about something, doing something… until he falls asleep.
Watching him slowly drift off to sleep tonight is nice. I keep massaging his shoulders for a while and then gently slide off of him. Once I’ve turned out the lights, I nudge him gently.
“Get under the covers, babe.”
Oops. I didn’t mean to call him that but it slipped out and I’m not even sure he noticed.
Then we’re both under the covers, on our sides, and he spoons up behind me, dropping an arm over my waist.
Before I can think about what that means, I’m asleep.
Viktor is up and out early the next morning. Before we have a chance to talk or anything else. He has a mandatory team breakfast, followed by a morning skate and then some kind of meeting. He didn’t know what time he would be back, so I’m on my own today and I reach out to Serena.
“Hey.” She answers the phone sounding as lazy as I feel.
“Want to hang out?” I ask.
She laughs. “I’m meeting up with Alexa Humboldt—she wants me to try on something new. She wants me to wear it to the premiere for the new show.” The reboot of Dusty Peaks is premiering in the fall and they start production sometime in July.
“Ooh, that sounds awesome,” I say a bit wistfully.
“Want to come with? Appointment isn’t until eleven, so we can get breakfast and then head uptown to her studio.”
“I’d love that!”
“I think Lacy is going to be there too. She wants to dress both of us.”
Lacy Fontaine was on the original show with her, she’s going to be on the reboot, and I’ve met her several times.
“Fun.”
“How long do you need to get ready?”
“Thirty minutes?”
“Okay. See you in the lobby.”
She disconnects and I take my time getting ready.
I pull on knee-length shorts, a pretty blue top, and a pair of Chucks.
They’re comfortable enough to walk around in all day and maybe even wear to the game tonight, though I’m not sure how dressed up I want to be.
I brought boots to wear with my jeans, since the arena gets cold, but I’ll see what Serena’s wearing.
She’s already in the lobby on her phone when I get down there and I’ve just reached her when I hear my name.
“Holly.”
Crap.
I know the accent.
It’s Mrs. Maslak.
I turn with a friendly smile pasted on. “Good morning,” I say as politely as I can since it’s Viktor’s parents, his Aunt Irina, and Olga.
“Where are you going?” my mother-in-law asks with a casual smile.
“Oh, Serena’s getting fitted for a gown by Alexa Humboldt,” I say casually, hoping she doesn’t know who that is.
But Olga does. Her eyes widen slightly. “Really? She dresses you?”
“It’s for a red carpet event in the fall,” Serena replies.
“I would love to meet her,” Olga gushes. “Do you think I could tag along?”
Ugh.
Absolutely not.
I just don’t know how to say that politely.
“Sure,” Serena replies graciously.
I cut her a look of annoyance, but Olga and Mrs. Maslak are smiling broadly.
“This is exciting, no?” Mrs. Maslak looks at her husband, who grimaces.
I don’t know what he says in Russian, but his wife rolls her eyes and responds with something that includes Viktor’s name. He nods, gets out his phone, and walks in the other direction.
“We go now?” Mrs. Maslak asks me.
“No. It’s not until eleven.” Christ on a cracker, now I have to invite them to breakfast.
“You’re welcome to come to breakfast with us,” Serena says politely. “There’s a little diner I like, it’s not fancy.”
“Not fancy is good.” Mrs. Maslak nods happily.
I’m guessing they know who Serena is, or they’re just being nice because we dropped Alexa’s name. Whatever it is, I don’t have a choice but to deal with it.
“Let me call a bigger car,” Serena murmurs, pulling out her phone.
“You’re an actress?” Olga immediately sidles up to Serena.
“Yes.” Serena is a good friend because she smiles and answers all their questions while we wait for the Uber to arrive, while we’re on the way to the diner, and even as we eat.
It turns out they are all big fans of the original Dusty Peaks, which aired in Russia just last year, even though it’s been off the air for a couple of years.
“This is so exciting,” Olga says, finally looking at me. “I had no idea you had such interesting friends!”
Serena doesn’t miss a beat. “Well, considering who her father is, she has lots of interesting friends.”
Oh, shit.
I don’t know if they know about my dad.
“Your father?” Mrs. Maslak turns to me in confusion.
“My father is a Georgia state senator,” I say quietly.
There’s a moment of silence. I know Irina probably doesn’t understand that but my mother-in-law’s eyes go wide and Olga blinks.
“Your father is a politician?”
“Yes. For a long time. Since I was a teenager. He was a small-town mayor when I was younger and then he was elected to the Senate right when I was in college. He’s in his second term now.”
I can practically see the wheels turning.
I’m the daughter of a politician. Ostensibly someone powerful. And that, apparently, means more than anything else.
“We will meet your family?” Mrs. Maslak asks at last.
I hesitate. “Honestly, I don’t know my father’s schedule. He travels a lot, but I’m sure he’ll try to be at one of the games.” I don’t know if that’s true but it’s probably best not to explain that I’m not close to my father.
“This is interesting. You must tell us more.”
I see Serena’s smirk, even as she hides it by taking a sip of coffee.
I don’t know whether I want to smack her or thank her.