Chapter 13
Nikolai
I swipe my access card to open the athlete gym. It’s still dark out, the sun struggling to make its way over the tops of the
trees.
The door shuts with a click as I stride down the dark hallway. This early, no one else should be around, and that’s what I’m
banking on. I ease my way into the men’s locker room, settling on one of the benches to open my bag.
By our apartment in Moscow, there was an indoor pool. On the rare days I didn’t have hockey, Mom would dig out my bathing
suit, grab a book, and bring me there to play for a few hours. No Dad, no hockey, just Mom watching with a smile while I showed
off how fast I could swim from one end to the other. I started playing hockey with the older kids from the time I was five,
and even then, I was one of the best on the ice. A break to do something just for fun was a treat.
Swimming isn’t an official part of my training routine, but it’s as relaxing to me now as it was when I was little. During
hockey games, my mind races with constant decision-making. Swimming involves no thoughts at all.
And right now, I can’t stop thinking about Isabelle. The library, the party, the whole goddamn summer races through my mind
on repeat.
When I left her sleeping, I stood by the bed for the longest time. She looked beautiful, her dark hair spilling down her bare back, her pink mouth curved like a bow. She had orange nails—Creamsicle, she called them—and little diamond studs in her ears. Her favorite stuffed animal, a worn-out pink bunny, stood guard on the nightstand.
I nearly climbed back into bed beside her.
Instead, I brushed a kiss to her forehead and eased out the door.
I told myself she deserved a clean break, and I knew if I stayed, I’d selfishly try to convince her to keep things going.
I must be even more of a bastard than I realized, because now, I can’t bear the thought of letting her go. The moment I see
her, my desires take over. I spark like a match.
True attraction is magic. I’ve slept with plenty of women whose beauty I could recognize without it actually doing a thing
for me. I’d get turned on just fine, but it wouldn’t be bone-deep and irresistible. It wouldn’t leave me needing more. I never
daydreamed about them, or wondered how they were on a random Tuesday morning, or bought their coffee just because.
And I know part of that has to do with my own guardrails. I’ve been reckless plenty of times in my life, but never when it
comes to romantic feelings. If I took things too far, and it spiraled out of control the way my parents’ relationship did,
I’d have no one to blame but myself.
Isabelle is in a category all her own. When I’m around her, I can’t focus on anything else. We could be in the middle of a
hurricane, and I’d just stand there like a goddamn fool, cataloging the raindrops on her face.
All the more reason to stay away. No more parties, no more coffee, no more closet hookups. She deserves so much better than
an asshole like me, no matter my feelings.
I throw my bag into one of the lockers, even though I’m sure no one else is going to come in, and open the door to the pool.
I freeze as I stare at the girl in the middle lane. There’s no mistaking that pink one-piece. Not when I peeled it off her
myself one June night.
The universe must seriously hate me.
The door slips from my hands before I can decide whether to leave, shutting loudly enough that Isabelle turns her head.
So much for escaping.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says.
Her hair is in a sleek bun. Water droplets cling to everything; her earlobes, her eyelashes, her lips. I take a step forward,
unable to help myself. “I promise I’m not stalking you.”
“This campus has never felt so small.”
“I know.” I take a few steps forward. “You’re everywhere I look.”
“You aren’t supposed to be here anyway,” she says, a stubborn note in her voice.
“But I’m glad I am.”
When the words leave my lips, I realize they’re true. I am glad to be here. The situation aside, it led me back to Isabelle.
Even if nothing permanent can come of this, being around her in any capacity is better than not being around her at all. I
like knowing she’s on the same campus as me, never far away.
She blinks, her expression shuttering. “You keep saying things you don’t mean.”
“I’m not a liar, Isabelle.” I take a couple more steps, until I’m on the edge of the pool. This is a terrible idea, but I
owe her an apology or ten, and I want nothing more than to do it while she’s in my arms.
So I jump in.
“Nik!” she shrieks as I surface, hair plastered to my forehead, water up my nose.
I grin at her. “Warmer than the Atlantic, for sure. I’d skinny-dip in this.”
She wrinkles her nose, even as she smooths my hair back. “You’re such a boy .”
I wrap my arm around her, tugging her into the shallow end. She lets me, although she has a frown on her face. I push her against the wall of the pool as I brush my lips to hers. The moment she kisses back, something unwinds in me, relaxing my limbs. I taste chlorine on her lips. She’s deliciously warm, letting me crowd her with a leg between hers as she wraps her arms around my neck. We had dozens of moments like this over the summer, giving in to that itch wherever we were. If we weren’t somewhere private, we’d make it private enough. I never laughed more than during adventures with her, and that has to count for something.
I can’t date her, and I can’t fall for her, but I can’t give her up, either. Not yet. Even if I’m running the risk of any
tenuous trust with her brother falling to pieces.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against her lips.
She pulls away, her eyes searching mine. “You didn’t say goodbye,” she says haltingly. “You left me like it meant nothing.”
“I know.”
“Did it? Am I the idiot here? Caring about you when you didn’t give a shit about me?”
“No. It was never like that.”
“Then what?” She kicks at me underneath the water. Her voice gets stronger. “What the fuck, Nik?”
I hesitate. Once I explain myself, I can’t go back. The truth always changes things. She might decide to put up a real barrier,
no matter my feelings, and I’ll have to respect it.
But if she doesn’t—if we fall back into what we had before—
I fist my hand in her hair and pull her into another kiss. Deep, lingering, until I can’t breathe anymore.
“I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to.” I stroke my thumb across her cheek. “I didn’t want to shut the door on us.”