Chapter 8
Sitka
Only the promise of my Grandma Tatiana’s blueberry pancakes could get me out of bed this early today.
I’d stayed up way too late, and for once it hadn’t been because I’d stayed up reading.
I’d overheard my brothers talking about taking Damien and Ev to the clubs, and I’ve been tormenting myself with images of him getting lap dances by gorgeous women ever since.
My family owns the best strip clubs in town, and I know my brothers and cousins aren’t strangers to the place.
Bran’s the only one who avoids going out with them, and I’m too much of a realist to think Damien might not be into them either.
Needless to say, I’m a little on edge, and when I left the house this morning, for reasons I’m not ready to acknowledge, I’d grabbed Damien’s sweatshirt and put it on before I’d left.
Now I’m sitting at my Aunt Nina’s island with my nose buried in the collar of his hoodie, letting myself enjoy the lingering scent of his cologne while my mom and Aunt Nina work on scrambling eggs and making bacon.
I’m still burying my nose in his shirt when the door opens.
I’m expecting my grandma with a huge stack of pancakes, but what I get is Damien.
He’s carrying a plate of my most favorite food on the planet and looking ridiculously good while doing it.
My stomach growls, but that’s not the only hunger I’m feeling.
He spots me, wearing his hoodie with my nose shoved into the fabric, and his beautiful mouth spreads into a smile.
I drop the shirt, and then smile when my grandma appears from behind him.
Bran is right next to her, all of them carrying a plate that’s stacked with pancakes.
“You can just set them on the island,” my grandma says.
“Yes, ma’am,” Damien tells her, setting his own plate down before taking hers and doing the same.
She smiles up at him and pats his cheek. “Such a sweet boy,” she murmurs, and instead of being embarrassed by my grandma’s affection, Damien looks thrilled to have it.
“We’re so glad you could come this morning,” my Aunt Nina says, giving Damien a big smile while my mom nods her agreement and says, “It’s too bad Evgeny couldn’t come, but maybe next time.”
“I’m sure he’d love that,” Damien says.
Bran nudges his shoulder and then points at the island I’m sitting at. Go ahead and sit down. It’ll be a few more minutes.
Damien hesitates for a second before walking around the island. He looks at the line of stools before stepping closer and taking the one right next to me. I resist looking over at him until his thigh accidentally bumps mine and he apologizes.
When I turn my head, his dark eyes are looking right at me and we’re less than a foot apart. Aside from the few minutes of us being smooshed on the bench together, it’s the closest we’ve ever been. Even when he’d rolled up the sleeves of the hoodie I’m still wearing, we hadn’t been this close.
The other night when I’d first seen him, I’d been just about to give him a hug when my dad had interrupted and ruined it. I’ve been thinking about that missed hug ever since, and the urge to lunge myself into his arms is very strong.
“It’s okay,” I finally manage to say in response to his apology. Then, because it’s stupid to ignore the obvious, I say, “I’m sorry I haven’t given you your hoodie back yet.”
His eyes drop to the hoodie I’m wearing before the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Keep it. It looks better on you.”
I try to keep my smile in check, but the amusement in his eyes makes it clear I’ve failed. Before I can embarrass myself further, my mom puts two huge plates of food in front of us and then grabs the butter and syrup. She also fills a plate for Bran and signs, Hurry up or it’ll get cold.
Bran nods and takes the stool next to Damien.
The smell of food is enough to lure Dima in.
He’s in sweats and a T-shirt, his hair sticking up in a few places, and I have no doubt he just rolled out of bed.
He looks like he had a rough night, and my traitorous brain immediately starts thinking about their outing last night.
He kisses our grandma and then hugs his mom and then mine before taking the stool next to Bran.
Damien nudges the butter and syrup towards me, pulling my every thought back to him. I grin and start fixing my plate before handing him the bottle of syrup. It gets passed down the line as my mom and aunt help my grandma with her own plate and then sit down at the table behind us.
“Babushka,” I say, knowing how much she loves it when I call her grandma in Russian, “these are delicious.”
She gives me a wink and fills her fork, “I added extra blueberries just for you.”
I grin and go back to eating. While I chew, all I can think about is how close Damien’s body is to mine.
I thought racing my dirt bike was the only thing that could make my heart race like this, but being near this man is an adrenaline kick I hadn’t been expecting.
Unable to resist the pull, I spread my legs a little more and let my knee rest gently against his thigh.
His hand stills mid-bite when he feels it, but without looking over, he nudges me back with a light touch and then hides his smile by bringing his fork to his mouth.
I try not to stare at the line of his jaw as he chews or the sight of his tongue licking the last bit of syrup from his lips.
My fork clattering against my plate is enough to draw everyone’s attention except Bran’s, its abrasive sound making me cringe.
“Sorry,” I say, giving everyone a sheepish smile. My face feels hot, and I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with Damien. Our thighs are still lightly touching, and nothing on earth could make me pull away from him right now.
I watch as Damien looks over at Bran and signs, Where’s your dad?
With his fork still in his hand, Bran quickly signs, Working, and then takes another bite. While he chews, he adds, He won’t be back until after lunch.
Picking up a piece of bacon, I keep eating while trying to figure out a way to keep Damien here for as long as possible.
After a few more minutes, my plate is empty and I don’t have much of an excuse to keep sitting when everyone else finishes up and starts clearing away the dishes.
My mom gives me a look when she sees I’m still sitting, and I have no choice but to pull away from Damien and get off the stool to grab my grandma’s empty plate for her.
I hear the guys getting up, and with all of us helping, it only takes a few minutes to get the dishwasher loaded and the skillets washed.
My Aunt Nina pours herself another mug of coffee and tops off my mom and grandma before they go sit down on the couch to visit.
I stay in the kitchen, hoping to squeeze out a few more minutes with Damien.
He’s leaning against the island, watching as Bran signs that he’s going to walk the beach.
Want to come? he asks us.
Dima shakes his head and signs back, Can’t. I promised Tyoma I’d help him with something.
As he leaves, Bran looks at Damien and me. Come with me.
Damien looks over at me, and when I start to follow my cousin, he pushes off from the island and falls in step beside me.
It’s overcast and windy when we get outside, but every once in a while the clouds part and the sun comes shining down.
I tilt my face to the sky and let my hair whip around.
I don’t even bother trying to tame it, knowing it’s pointless.
We take the path down to the beach, stopping to kick our shoes off when we reach the sand. I roll my jeans up to right below my knees and watch the waves crash against the shore.
Let’s show him the cave, Bran signs to me.
I grin and nod my head while Damien asks, What cave?
You’ll see, I tell him.
He looks between me and Bran and grins before signing, Okay, lead the way.
As we start walking, I notice that my cousin quickly starts to do his own thing. He walks close enough to let the waves cover his feet, before shoving his hands in his hoodie and walking into the wind as he follows the beach in the opposite direction of Max and Talia’s house.
“So how cold is the water right now?” Damien asks, looking out at the large expanse of water that is constantly in motion. It’s nothing like the lakes I’ve seen in movies, water so still and calm you could almost forget that it’s water at all.
When he turns back to look down at me, I grin and say, “Only one way to find out.”
“There is another way,” he argues with a gorgeous smile on his face. “You could just tell me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I nudge his arm and start walking towards the wet sand, smiling when he eventually starts walking towards me.
When the first wave runs up the shore and hits my feet, I force myself to not wince at how cold it is.
He tilts his head, studying my reaction, and then gives a soft laugh.
“It’s freezing, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” I tease, walking backwards and letting the next wave hit my ankles and calves.
He’s close enough to me now so the next wave hits the both of us, and the loud, “Jesus fuck!” he gives when the icy water hits his skin has me tipping my head back and laughing.
He takes a few quick steps back to avoid the next wave and looks out at me with his hands on his hips. “You actually choose to go out in that? Why would you do that?”
I spread my arms and let the water hit me. “It’s invigorating,” I say.
“It’s insane,” he counters.
I shrug and after the next wave has passed, I walk back further up the shore so I can be closer to him. “It might be crazy, but I still love it.”
Nudging my arm, he leans down a bit and says, “That’s because you’re a little crazy, Sitka.”
“Am I?”
“You are.” There’s a slight grin playing at his lips when he says, “A little adrenaline junkie.”
I grin, but I don’t tell him he’s wrong.
We keep walking and after a few minutes, he says, “I hear you’re racing tonight.”
“Who told you that?”