Chapter 21
Ever
Dmitri’s alarm goes off, but I’m already awake, my front curled against his back.
My arm hangs limply over his hip, the smooth skin of his shoulder warm against my cheek.
He jolts and his hand quickly reaches for his phone, shutting off the incessant beeping.
I tighten my arm around his waist, holding him close.
The stiffness of my cock pressing into his crease.
“Wish we could stay in bed all day,” I whisper against his neck.
He pushes his ass against my morning wood and wiggles. “Maybe tomorrow.”
I know that won’t happen because he’ll advance to the final round of auditions.
I’ve heard him play, not just when he’s messing around with me, but while he practiced at my house.
And the way he brings each composition to life, making it solely his, while still being authentic to the music, is the reason he’s performed at an elite level since he was barely out of high school.
“Maybe.” I kiss his shoulder and let my hand drift to the front of his boxer briefs.
A second alarm sounds and he groans, turning it off and rolling over to face me so our noses are touching. “I have to get up.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to the tip of his nose, then flip the sheets off in a flourish.
“Hey.” He reaches for the sheets, but I’m out of bed and have them pushed to the bottom of the mattress, exposing miles of bronze skin.
Instead of diving back into bed and tasting every inch of the gorgeous man, I clap my hands together. “Chop, chop. You have an audition to kill and I have a city to explore.”
“Fine.” He doesn’t move, and his petulant tone sends a burst of affection, flailing me.
That he would rather spend the day in bed with me makes my legs weak, pulse race, and my throat thick.
Never in my life have I felt the way I feel about Dmitri.
Once, I believed I was in love, and perhaps I was, but my youth prevented me from fully understanding its meaning. “I meant what I said last night.”
“I know.” His expression, relaxed and still a little groggy, softens as he rises and meanders over to where I’m standing at the foot of the bed.
He traces his fingertips through the short hair above my ears, and the flutter in my stomach matches the one in my chest. “And in case there was any doubt, I love you, too. I can’t explain how it happened, but I’m done questioning it. ”
I nuzzle his neck, pressing my nose into his skin and sucking in a breath, as if doing so will allow me to keep his woodsy sleepy scent while he’s at his audition.
His audition. Shit. With a quick peck on his gorgeous mouth, I pull back even as his lips chase mine. “You need to get moving. Get in the shower and I’ll call room service.”
“You could join me.” The heavy promise to a lot more than washing hangs in Dmitri’s offer.
I swat his butt. “Then you’ll never make it on time.”
“When I get back then?”
I press a kiss to his knuckles then hold his hand to my heart. “It’s a date.”
I take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and hop on the tube to visit the Kew Gardens. There’s a sculpture called The Hive that I want to check out while I’m here. The interactive sculpture is supposed to mimic a beehive.
As I walk through the field of wildflowers, bees greet me, buzzing from flower to flower.
From the distance, the large aluminum installation resembles a swarm of bees hovering just above the field.
But as I get closer, the swarm morphs into the apt name of the piece, a hive.
Entering the sculpture, LED lights flutter with the volume of music controlled by bees going about their day from one of the Kew’s actual hives.
Honeycomb shadows blanket the floor, adding to the multi-sensory experience.
I stand in the middle of the exhibit, soaking in everything while trying desperately not to focus on how much I wish Dmitri was here.
This is the kind of experience I want to share with him.
When—not if —Dmitri gets the position of concertmaster, there will be more experiences that we’ll miss out on together. Is that something I can do?
Bringing my hand to my chest, I drum my fingers over my heart. As much as the thought makes my chest ache, loving him is out of my control—though I wouldn’t exchange this love if I could—and supporting him is non-negotiable. Plus, we can always see this together when I visit him.
My phone pings and I hurriedly pull it from my pocket, eager to hear how the first round of auditions went.
Dmitri: Made it to the second round.
Dmitri: Going to run to the bathroom and grab more water before my practice session begins.
Heads of the few other visitors turn at the laughter that booms from my chest. I want to boast to anyone who will listen, and even to those who won’t, how fucking amazing my man is.
Ever: Congratulations! There was never any doubt.
Dmitri: Speak for yourself.
I roll my eyes and shake my head.
Ever: Good luck with the next round.
Ever: Love you.
Dmitri: Love you. 3
The rest of the day passes at a snail’s pace, but I explore the gardens, enjoying the weather and exhibits, until I make my way back to the hotel.
My fingers itch to text Dmitri to find out how it’s going, but I know better than to disturb him.
I putter around the room, turning on the television and flipping through the channels, but nothing catches my interest, so I turn it off and toss the remote onto the small coffee table.
I try the book I bought at the gift shop at the gardens, but when I read the same paragraph three times and still have no idea what it says, I give up.
My stomach grumbles and though it’s dinnertime, I want to wait for Dmitri.
The audition process can take a while, and I know he’ll be starving when he gets back.
As I’m contemplating whether to pay the exorbitant fee for mini-bar crisps or journey to the convenience store I spotted down the street from the hotel, there’s a beep and the door swings open.
Violin case in one hand, key card in the other, and the strap of his cognac messenger bag hanging across his chest, Dmitri strides into the room.
“Hey.” My lips are on him before he can answer, and he relaxes into me like he’s been looking forward to this moment as much as I have.
His stomach grumbles.
“Hungry?” I move out of the way, and he places his violin in the corner.
“Starving.” He removes the messenger bag, setting it next to the violin, then shrugs out of his black suit jacket, which somehow looks as pristine as it did when he left this morning, and hangs it up.
“Would you mind if we did room service again?” He slips his shoes off, placing them on the floor of the closet, then unbuttons his black shirt and removes his pants. “I’m exhausted.”
I hold up a menu. “The concierge said this place has the best curry on this side of London. How about we have them deliver?”
He lets out a relieved sigh, tugging on a faded Phillies tee and gray sweats. “That would be perfect.”
Dmitri scans the menu while I dial the number, and points to what he wants while I place the order.
When I hang up, he’s sitting with his back propped against the headboard, eyes closed.
Bare feet crossed at the ankles and his arms folded over his chest. For as good as he looks, I can see how tired he is.
I want to ask him how the second round went.
Want to ask if he’s going back tomorrow.
But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to know because if I don’t know for certain, I can pretend that we can spend a lazy morning in bed, then go out and explore London in the afternoon, before we leave on Thursday.
And I can pretend that he didn’t get the job and he’ll happily return to Maplewood with me.
As carefully as possible, I crawl onto the bed and lie down next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He peeks open one eye, the corner of his mouth ticking up, and unfolds his arms, wrapping one around me. I snuggle closer, draping my arm over his middle and a leg over his legs.
“How was it?” I keep my voice hushed.
“Long.” He’s quiet for a moment, then two, and when I think he’s not going to say any more, he says, “I go back tomorrow.”
I push off his shoulder so I can see his expression. “That’s great.” He nods, his smile slow to come and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Or not?”
“We’ll see.” He tugs me to him, and I go easily, returning my head to his shoulder and looping my arm around his waist. “Right now, I want to focus on a quiet night in with you and the best curry in the neighborhood.”
Determined to soak in every precious moment I have with him, that’s exactly what we do.