12. Night Out With Him
Night Out With Him
Nikolai Levin
The front door clicked open earlier than expected.
I looked up from my lap just as Zhenya walked in. Usually, he wasn’t back until four sometimes five—but the clock on the wall had barely crossed three.
He didn’t even drop his coat. He walked straight across the room and pulled me into him, the sudden weight almost knocking the book from my grip.
A soft laugh escaped me. “Welcome home.”
He just hummed against my hair.
I leaned back as far as his grip allowed, trying to read his face. “So… did today go the way you planned?”
Another quiet rumble.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Instead of answering, he buried his face in the crook of my neck. For a man his size, Zhenya Romanov had a habit of completely forgetting his own weight. Almost all of it pressed against me now, forcing me to brace my legs just to keep us both upright.
I probably should have complained. Instead, I tightened my arms around his shoulders.
“Is there a reason you’re holding me like this?”
“No.” A beat. “I just want to.”
Every line of defense fell out of his voice.
So I stopped asking. We stayed like that in the quiet for a long moment, the rest of the day fading out around us.
When he finally pulled back, he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead and turned toward his office without another word.
I watched the door shut behind him, then looked down at the open page in my lap. I had no idea where I’d left off.
* * *
By six o’clock, Zhenya still hadn’t emerged from his office.
At first, I figured he was just wrapping up a few emails. But then the sun dipped below the horizon, and the door remained firmly shut.
I wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A slice of the pineapple cake Olga had baked was sitting on a plate. I poured a glass of chilled juice and carried both upstairs.
The office door was cracked slightly. I knocked softly.
“Come in.”
Stacks of documents covered almost every square inch of his desk. His jacket was tossed over a chair, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms as he signed another page without bothering to look up.
“You’ve been hiding in here for hours.”
“I’m doing double the work now,” he murmured.
I walked over and set the plate beside him. “You skipped dinner.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“You are now.”
His eyes darted to the cake, then up to me. Before I could step back, his hand slid around my waist. I barely had time to react before he pulled me sideways right into his lap.
“Zhenya!”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to ask first.”
“I already knew the answer.”
I rolled my eyes, though I made no move to get up.
He leaned down, resting his chin against my shoulder. His nose brushed lightly along the side of my neck, taking a slow, quiet breath. Then he did it again.
I laughed, leaning away slightly. “…Are you smelling me?”
“Hm. You changed your cologne.”
“I did.”
He inhaled again, his voice dropping an octave. “It suits you. You smell like peaches.”
Heat crept into my face. “You’ve been spending way too much time around Alexei.”
“No,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “I’ve been spending time with you.”
I nudged the plate a little closer to him. “Eat.”
He actually complied, taking a bite, then another. By the time he finished the glass of juice, some of the tension he’d been carrying all day seemed to ease from his shoulders.
Shutting the folder in front of him, he looked at me. “That’s enough work for tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“We’re going for a drive.”
“A drive?”
His fingers laced through mine. “I don’t feel like staying inside anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
He stood up, effortlessly lifting me off his lap and setting me on my feet. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”
* * *
We’d been on the road for nearly thirty minutes before I gave up trying to act like I wasn’t curious.
“…Are we actually going somewhere specific?”
Zhenya kept one hand casually on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. “You ask me that every five minutes.”
“Because you keep dodging the question.”
He shot me a quick glance. “You’ll see when we get there.”
I folded my arms and stared out the window. Moscow shifted around us as we drove—the massive glass towers gave way to quieter streets, the heavy traffic thinned out, and the city lights took on a warmer glow.
Just when I thought we were heading out of the city entirely, he pulled into a brightly lit parking lot.
I frowned. “This is…”
Kids were running past, laughing. Music drifted through the night air alongside row after row of flashing game stalls. It was a small, modest amusement park—nothing fancy, just a collection of local rides and carnival booths.
“What are we doing here?”
Zhenya cut the engine. “Come on.”
Still confused, I followed him out into the cool air. The smell of popcorn and roasted corn hit me immediately. Families, couples, and teenagers were scattered around, nobody paying the two of us any attention.
As we walked, something caught my eye. A claw machine sat near one of the booths, packed with stuffed animals. One immediately stood out: a brown bear wearing a tiny blue scarf.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Zhenya paused too, looking back at me. “What?”
I pointed. “I want to try for that.”
He glanced at the machine, then back at me, a subtle gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Go ahead.”
“Watch and learn,” I said, stepping up to the glass. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
I traded a bill for a handful of tokens and slid one into the slot. The claw dropped, closed its grip, and lifted the bear. For one glorious second, I thought I had it.
Then it slipped right through the metal prongs.
“No way.”
Another token. Miss.
Another. The claw snagged only the scarf before dropping it.
By the sixth attempt, I was convinced the machine was rigged specifically to spite me. I threw my hands up in defeat. “It’s impossible.”
Zhenya stepped forward. “It really isn’t.”
“Oh, really?”
He dropped a single token into the slot, grabbed the joystick, and made one smooth, casual adjustment before hitting the button. The claw descended, clamped firmly around the bear, and lifted it without a single wobble. Three seconds later, it dropped straight into the prize chute.
I stared at the plastic hatch, then up at him in complete disbelief. “…You cheated.”
“I didn’t.” He reached down, pulled the plush out, and handed it to me. “There.”
I scoffed softly, hugging the bear to my chest. “It’s annoying how good you are at everything.”
He looked down at the bear, then very gently adjusted the tiny blue scarf around its neck. “Now it looks presentable.”
I couldn’t help a laugh. “Let’s keep walking.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the car. He pulled into the lot of a 24-hour convenience store glowing under harsh fluorescent lights.
This time, I didn’t bother asking. I was starting to realize Zhenya rarely did anything without a reason.
“Come on,” he said, opening his door.
A little bell chimed as we stepped inside, the air smelling faintly of fresh coffee and baked goods. I grabbed a red basket from the stack near the entrance.
“I’ll carry it,” I said.
Zhenya didn’t argue. Within seconds, a bag of potato chips hit the plastic bottom. Then a chocolate bar. Then another one, followed by a pack of gummy bears.
“Those aren’t snacks,” Zhenya observed, watching the pile grow.
“They literally are.”
“That’s pure sugar,” he said, shaking his head.
I wandered over to the drinks display. “Orange juice?”
“No.”
“Apple?”
“No.”
“Grape?”
“Definitely not.”
“Do you drink anything besides expensive wine?”
“Water.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are incredibly boring.”
I grabbed two bottles of orange juice anyway. Without missing a beat, he reached into the basket and set them back on the shelf.
“…Excuse me?”
“You’ll spill it in the car.”
“I will not.”
He grabbed two bottles of sparkling water and set them inside instead. I stared at him, then walked back to the cooler, picked up the orange juice again, and dropped it right back in the basket.
He looked at the juice, then down at me. “…Really?”
Sighing, he removed one of the water bottles, leaving the juice untouched. “…Happy?”
I gave him a victorious grin. “Extremely.”
By the time we made it to the counter, the basket was practically overflowing with chips, chocolate, sandwiches, fruit, and enough junk food to survive a small blackout.
The cashier looked back and forth between the massive pile of food and the two of us. “Planning a road trip?”
Before I could open my mouth, Zhenya replied evenly, “No. A date.”
I turned to look at him, caught completely off guard. He just pulled out his wallet and paid, completely unbothered, while my heart did a sudden, quiet flip in my chest.
Our last stop was Sparrow Hills, the car rolling onto a gravel overlook facing the Moscow skyline.
The view took my breath away. Thousands of tiny lights stretched across the valley like a mirror image of the night sky.
“…Wow.”
Zhenya offered a quiet smile before climbing out.
I followed him around to the back, watching the tailgate lift with a soft hiss. When he pulled thick blankets and two pillows from the cargo space, everything clicked.
“So that’s why you brought the SUV.”
“Took you long enough.”
“You planned this from the start.”
“Let’s call it an idea.” He spread one blanket over the trunk floor with practiced ease, then tossed a pillow straight at me. “Catch.”
I laughed, barely snatching it out of the air before it hit my face.
Minutes later, we were stretched out side by side under the raised hatch. The night air was crisp, sending a cool breeze across the ridge. Somewhere down the slope, a car had its speakers turned up; the distant, muffled rhythm of an old Russian love song carried over the hill.
I pulled the stuffed bear against my chest. “Pillows were a nice touch.”
“I prefer not to suffer through uncomfortable dates.”
I turned to look at him. “…So this is a date.”
His silence was answer enough.
We lay there for a while, watching thin clouds drift past the stars.
“Did you always want to be a tutor?” Zhenya asked.
“No,” I admitted with a faint smile.
“No?”