9. 9
Situated between Elias’s legs on the floor in our room, I leaned back into his chest as my eyes struggled to focus on the laptop I’d been staring at for hours.
I wasn’t happy about being kicked out of the lab, but I’d been ignoring the hunger pangs in my stomach for some time.
He was content behind me, holding a book in his hand just off to the side, his foot moving along to the beat when a song he liked came on.
I sighed, pulling out my half of the ear buds that Elias and I were sharing.
Using an old receipt as a bookmark, he slid it between the pages to mark where he left off before setting it on the ground next to us, his reading glasses abandoned, too. “What’s up?”
“I’m exhausted,” I breathed. “I’m tired from being on planes, I’m tired from reading this bullshit, and I really just want to sleep in our bed. These bunks suck.”
His hands moved to my shoulders, massaging in an attempt to ease the tension there. “Why don’t we sleep in separate beds so you can actually get comfortable?”
“It’s like fifty degrees in here. I’ll get hypothermia and die without you.”
“It is cold,” he agreed. “But we can get extra blankets. You need to sleep well so you can think.”
He honed in on a tender spot on my neck, his thumbs kneading and pressing on the tight muscle he found. “Thank you,” I said, my head falling forward. “Are you trying to kick me out of your bunk?”
“Never.”
“It really seems like you’re trying to get the bunk to yourself,” I pressed.
“They’re paying me a lot of money to be your bodyguard, and I think it’s part of my job to make sure you’re well rested,” he said.
“This isn’t some overbearing boyfriend thing of yours?
” I asked. He was generally fair in his suggestions or advice of what I should do, but occasionally he did veer too far into the caretaker role he was so fond of.
Our conversation earlier had left a bit of tension between us over this particular subject.
“I don’t think so. Overbearing would be asking you to wear looser clothes so Misha will stop staring at you like he does.”
I leaned to the side and looked back at him, my brows furrowed. “What?”
His hands paused their movement on my neck but he didn’t remove them. “He was checking you out every time you stood up. Sometimes even when you were just sitting there.”
“I don’t know about that.” I faced forward again, leaning the back of my head against his shoulder.
Elias’s hands dropped to my arms, tracing the skin with his fingers.
“Maybe he’s just staring at my piercings?
” It wasn’t like I was full of metal, but my ears were heavily decorated.
I only had the single hoop in my nose, and I wore long sleeves to cover my tattoos.
Professionalism in my career was more than a suggestion, and older scientists gave me enough funny looks as it was.
“The entire reason I’m here is to stare at you and stare at the people around you,” he said. “It’s not exactly hard to notice when you have an admirer.”
“Are my clothes inappropriate or something?”
“No, Cassie. You’re just. . . shapely.”
“I’ve gained back some of the weight I lost,” I joked. “I don’t think he’s checking me out.”
He stilled beneath me, fingers stopping in their tracks. “I’m still waiting for you to gain the rest back.”
“Do you not want me to be able to run when things are chasing us?” I asked.
“Your weight was not the issue. You couldn’t breathe when you ran because you smoked,” he said. “I want you to be healthy.”
“I actually like my body right now.” I tensed, uncomfortable. I hadn’t meant for this conversation to devolve into a discussion about my weight. I was insecure enough as it was, I didn’t need to hear my boyfriend telling me he didn’t like the way I looked. “Are you not attracted to me?”
“I’m attracted to every version of you,” he said. He held onto me from behind, kissing my cheek. “All I’m saying is that I would worry less if you ate more. You’re adjusting to your new life. Things are hard, I get it.”
“I’m fine.” I tried to get up but he held on tighter. He was a lot stronger than me.
“Don’t leave,” he murmured. “I don’t think you’re fine, but I think you’re doing your best.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“I care about you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if this is coming out wrong.”
Pursing my lips, I thought of how to respond.
In my youth, I’d had some issues with my weight.
Who didn’t? Being a girl was impossible.
Every magazine at the checkout line had a bikini-clad fitness guru on the cover promoting their favorite low-calorie snack.
The magazines sat right next to the pop and candy, always.
Watching size six women get called fat on modeling shows didn’t do much for my self-esteem either.
Food was so easy to control. At times, it was the only thing I could control.
My father was so overbearing when I was young, I had to sneak the CD’s I liked into the house.
I couldn’t sleep in on the weekends, and I had a strict chore regimen.
Heaven forbid if I left the house in a tank top or if my shorts were too short.
I didn’t get to go to sleepovers or pool parties, and it seriously stunted my social development.
So I watched what I ate. I became an expert at pretending to eat dinner, messing with the food on the plate until it was appropriate to be done. Well-done steak was my favorite. I could chew on a bite or two for the entire meal.
I didn’t do that anymore. I ate. Sometimes it just happened that I worked through my lunch.
Turning the conversation back on Elias, I spoke again. “You’re not seriously asking me to wear different clothes.”
“I would never tell you what to wear.” He let out a little huff.
“But you mentioned it, so it bothers you.”
He shrugged. “Maybe the caveman part of my brain wants to say something, but at the same time, all he’s doing is looking at you.
I flirted shamelessly with you without ever asking if you had a boyfriend.
Even after you started ignoring me and I thought you might have started seeing someone I didn’t care. ”
“It’s not like you were gonna make a move, anyway,” I teased.
“I told you that if you asked me again to follow you home, I would. The ball was in your court.”
“I wish you would’ve just come home with me the first time I asked. We were going to end up together, anyway.”
“You were so drunk that you fell over while you were standing still. I would have felt like I was taking advantage of you, sleeping with you when you were like that,” he said.
“Was it not taking advantage of me when I was your damsel in distress?”
“If you remember correctly, I was a gentleman the first night, but when people actively shot at us the next day I didn’t care anymore.
If I was going to die, I was crossing off a bucket list item.
Seeing you naked was at the top of the list. Then the next day, I almost did die, so I wanted to revisit a few bucket list items I’d already taken care of just in case I fell asleep and didn’t wake up. ”
“We don’t need to get into it again.” I’d brought it up plenty of times in the last seven months, mostly just to tease him. “I’m just happy that it all worked out.”
“Me, too.”
I looked down at the laptop, the words on the screen not making sense anymore. The low battery notification felt like permission. “I’m done for the night. I’m going to have to reread it all anyway. I can hardly focus.”
Grabbing the laptop and shutting it, I walked it to the desk and plugged it in, where it would wait for me until tomorrow.
“So,” Elias started, grunting as he stood up. “Separate beds?”
“No.” I’d be far more comfortable with the armed man next to me than empty space, and while I hadn’t had a nightmare in a while, they still happened. Even if we were cramped, having him next to me made me feel safe, especially when we had a new threat to worry about.
I held out the earbud I’d had in earlier but he refused it. “Put it back in.”
Sticking the small piece of plastic back in my ear, I focused on Elias and waited for whatever he was going to make me listen to. An acoustic guitar began to strum hopefully in my ear. I hadn’t heard this song before.
He held out his arms to me, his fingers gesturing that I should come to him. I closed the distance, my arms winding around his neck, and my head finding his chest. Pulling me close, his hands found their place at my lower back, and he began to move.
“We’re dancing?” I asked, looking up at him.
He smiled. “I wouldn’t call this dancing.”
I closed my eyes, listening to the song, while we swayed in place.
The last time I had looked at the time on the computer it was after eight, and I’d have no way of knowing by looking out the small window.
Even with my eyes closed, I could see the light preening through the closed blinds. We’d close the curtains to sleep.
“We’ll get through it,” he whispered. “I promise.”
“I believe you.”
I tilted my head up to kiss him, soft. He made no move to deepen the kiss, letting our lips dance slowly along with the song he’d chosen.
So severely I needed his tenderness. Without realizing, I’d taken it for granted so often at home.
Until the strain of Russia came between us I was unaware of how essential his care for me was.
Pulling away, I laid my head back down against him.
The song ended, something more melancholy taking its place.
“That was a nice song,” I said, yawning.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
Mentally, physically, emotionally. I was tired in every sense of the word. “I need to put on my pajamas.”
Elias let me step away, but his eyes dissected me. He had something on his mind that he refused to say.
I shifted my weight, my hand going to my hair by habit. “What?”
“Nothing.” He turned away, walking to retrieve his own night clothes. “I’m just looking at you.”
“Do I have a pimple or something?”
“Can’t I look at you?” He shrugged off his shirt and swapped his pants for a pair of sweats.