25. Chapter 20 #2
“Let me save you the trouble—you show up here, all broody and full of whatever this is.” She gestured vaguely at him. “We make out. You get distracted. I get bored. And then we pretend like we didn’t just waste another night.”
He hated how she made it so easy to ruin himself—
and still, Cat was the shield he needed to survive Evin.
Bas let out a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Right. And that w orks for you?”
Cat tilted her head, watching him like she was trying to pick him apart. “It works for both of us.” She leaned back on her elbows, letting the silence settle between them before adding, “Unless you’re here for something else.”
He wasn’t. Or at least, he shouldn’t be.
Still, his eyes flicked to her lips, glossy and slightly parted, waiting. He knew exactly what she was offering—an escape, a distraction, something to fill the void that had been clawing at him for weeks.
So he stepped closer.
Cat’s smirk deepened, a silent invitation, as she tugged him down by the collar of his hoodie.
Their mouths met, the kiss familiar, practiced, nothing unexpected.
Her fingers skimmed over his jaw, nails scratching lightly against his skin.
She tasted like cherries and something stronger underneath—vodka, maybe, or whatever trouble she had gotten into before he showed up.
His hands found her waist, sliding beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm, soft, but it didn’t ground him the way he needed. Didn’t set him on fire, didn’t quiet the part of his brain that refused to shut up.
Cat sighed against his lips, shifting in his lap, pressing closer. “See? Much better,” she murmured, dragging her nails up the back of his neck.
But it wasn’t.
His body knew the routine, responded to her touch automatically, but something was off. His mind was elsewhere—somewhere he didn’t want it to be.
He pulled back, breathing hard.
His hands didn’t move the way they were supposed to.
Because she wasn’t the one he wanted.
Cat must have noticed. She pulled back slightly, her gaze sharp, searching his face for something.
And for the first time, he didn’t bother pretending.
A beat of silence stretched between them before she huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “God, you’re pathetic.”
Bas swallowed, looking past her, toward the fairy lights flickering against the mirror.
Then he stood up.
“I should go.”
Cat let out a dry, humorless laugh, falling back against her pillows. “Yeah. You should.” She pulled the blanket up to her chin and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Or maybe just stay miserable. Seems like your thing these days.“
As he left, closing the door behind him softly, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming back this time.
__________
Evin
S ergej's gaze was like a net closing in around her—heavy, demanding—and Evin realized she was already caught in it.
The air between them grew heavier. Sergej stood just a step away, yet the distance felt like an abyss. Her eyes locked with his, and for a moment, everything else disappeared—the flickering candlelight, the cool night breeze, even the pulsating noise of the city below.
Evin raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I signed up for some high-stakes poker game.”
Sergej’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes remained unreadable. “You kind of did.” He stepped closer, the space between them dissolving. “I don’t play games, Evin. If you’re here, you need to be sure of what you want. No back and forth.”
Evin let out a breath, forcing herself to hold her ground. He was testing her, pushing her to make a move first. Typical.
“ And what about you?” she countered, tilting her head. “You seem pretty invested for someone who doesn’t play games.”
A quiet chuckle escaped him—low, rough, like he was almost amused. “I knew what I wanted the second I saw you again.”
That was the problem, wasn’t it? Sergej was sure of himself. Unapologetic. Direct. And her? She wasn’t used to this. She was used to push and pull, to layers of hesitation. But Sergej didn’t hesitate.
She swallowed. “And what if I’m not as easy to read as you think?”
Sergej leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Oh, I read you just fine.”
His certainty made something tighten in her stomach.
Her hands twitched at her sides before she lifted them, pressing her palms lightly against his chest. She could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her touch.
He was calm. Collected. Like he had all the time in the world to let her figure this out.
Evin exhaled sharply, forcing herself to sound unaffected. “You’re really milking the whole mysterious older guy thing, huh?”
His fingers brushed the side of her neck, slow and deliberate. “I don’t need to try.”
Her breath caught. Damn him.
She should say something sharp, something to tilt the balance back in her favor—but his grip tightened slightly, grounding her in the moment, and suddenly, words felt unnecessary.
“And I’m not like the boys your age.”
She let out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t quite mask the fact that her pulse had spiked. “No shit. Most guys my age don’t act like they stepped out of a damn noir film.”
Sergej smirked. “And yet, you’re here.”
Her fingers curled slightly into his shirt. “Maybe I just like a good plot twist.”
A slow, knowing look crossed his face. “Good,” he murmured. “Then let’s see how well you handle this one.”
He pulled her closer, and when their lips met, it was like a switch had been f lipped. The kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was deliberate, deep, unrelenting. Sergej kissed like someone who had nothing to prove, someone who already knew she would follow.
And fuck, she did.
She felt the heat spread through her as his hands moved over her back, pulling her flush against him. It was overwhelming—his touch, his presence, the sheer intensity of it all. But maybe that was exactly what she needed.
Maybe, for once, she didn’t want to think.
His lips traced a slow path down her neck, and he murmured, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into...”
Her breath hitched, her body pressing instinctively closer to his. He was probably right.
But that didn’t mean she’d stop.
Sergej pulled back slightly, his gaze dark, unreadable. The candlelight flickered between them, but nothing in his expression wavered. “I told you, I don’t play.” His voice was quiet, firm. “When you’re here, you’re mine.”
Evin’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to fight that.
_________
Dear Diary,
Today was the date with Sergej.
I’m not sure how I feel.
It was intense... different from anything I’ve ever experienced.
He has this way of seeing through me, understanding me without me having to say much. It’s both terrifying and fascinating.
We didn’t talk much, but somehow, everyt hing felt clear. And then that kiss—demanding, unapologetic. Uff…
It was like he was pulling me into his world without me fully knowing what I was getting into.
Hot!
But it wasn’t just that.
There’s more to him than I initially thought. He told me about his family, and I saw a softer side, something he hides behind his facade. It makes it harder to dismiss him. Sure, he’s demanding, dominant even, but I can feel that he takes me seriously—in his own way.
And then there’s the fact that he’s 21. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. He carries himself so differently—so sure of what he wants. And I can’t tell if that excites or scares me.
Maybe that’s what pulls me in—the way he makes decisions for both of us, without hesitation.
So there’s this pressure. I know he wants more, faster than I’m ready for. But he also makes it clear he can wait—at least for a while.
And I can’t deny that I enjoy holding onto that control, not giving it to him immediately. It’s as if, for once, I can make him feel what I’ve felt for so long—power.
And then there’s Bas. I know I might be using Sergej to hurt him. But it feels good. For once, I’m not the one waiting, not the one getting hurt.
Now, I’m the one making the choices.
But it also makes me wonder: Is this really what I want? Or am I just running away from the pain?
yours.
Lately, she’d found herself reaching for her diary more often—something Evin hadn’t done in months. But with Sergej, with everything she couldn’t say out loud, the pages had become the only place that didn’t talk back. The only place that let her be honest.