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“Dancing! Is he good?” Katie asks.
“Very,” I admit, my cheeks warming. “I don’t know, Katie. Sometimes we just talk. He’s attentive and passionate and smart. Not, like, book smart so much—though he’s not dumb in that regard—but he’s just… life smart, you know? I don’t know. He’s everything I could want in a man.”
Katie’s eyes widen, and she covers her mouth. For a split second, I think I’ve said too much. Definitely, I’ve exposed the depth of my feelings for him without really thinking through how smart that is.
“Aw, Alina,” Katie swoons. “Wait, did you just say passionate?” She gasps dramatically. “Does that mean you two are having sex?” Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she flashes me a wicked grin.
I laugh. Leave it up to Katie to take a potentially vulnerable moment and make me laugh. It’s why she’s my best friend. She knows when to dig deep and when to leave me be. And right now, I’m not ready to delve into the strength of my feelings for Mishka. I still haven’t even come up with a viable solution to telling my parents about him.
I can’t be in love with him when I haven’t solved that conundrum, can I? But that hasn’t stopped me from joking with him multiple times about how we should just up and run away as soon as I finish school. That’s about as realistic as my solutions have gotten.
“Yes, Katie. We have sex.” I make the word heavy, as if it’s entirely taboo.
And my ridiculous friend gives a whimper as she pretends to brush a tear from her cheek. “My little girl, all grown up and sleeping with men. I’m so proud.”
Snorting, I grab a piece of popcorn and chuck it at her. And Boris snaps it up before it can even hit the floor. We both break into peals of laughter, and despite the naughty behavior, I can’t help but stroke his soft ears.
“Back to business?” I suggest, picking up my notebook and pen once more.
“Ugh. If we have to,” Katie says. But she grabs her textbook and hunches over it without further complaint.
The room falls silent as we settle in, and I try to focus on my work, rather than glancing at the clock every few minutes. It’s nearly ten o’clock. I hope the late hour doesn’t mean Mishka’s been caught up again. But I don’t dare text him. We both agreed it’s better to keep communication minimal—no meetup times or planning just in case someone happens to see the message. Instead, I just have to be patient and hope that he can make it.
A sharp rap on the fire escape window not ten minutes later makes me yelp. Katie gives me a knowing smile as I jump up without hesitation.
“See you in a few hours?” I say as I grab my coat and slide the window open.
“Text me if anything comes up,” she agrees.
“Yes, Mother,” I tease as I dip through the window, slipping into the dark night.
26
MISHKA
Iwait one landing below the window Alina climbs out of, and as her long, denim-clad legs appear, my pulse surges with anticipation. It’s been days since I’ve seen her, though it feels like weeks. I’ve been driven to distraction thinking about the missed opportunities of spending time with her because hunting down the men who ambushed the Sakharovs has proven far trickier than any of us could have anticipated.
The metal steps clang softly as she hurries down the steps toward me. Her full lips split into a smile as she spots me, and as soon as her toes touch the landing where I stand, I pull her into my arms and turn her, pinning her against the building’s brick wall.
“Hi,” she breathes, her eyes dancing.
Rather than reply, I press my body against hers, caging her between my arms as I brace my palms against the wall. And as I lean, I kiss her. Every time I’m with Alina, it’s impossible to keep my hands off her.
And now that I’m in her presence, my urge to claim her lips consumes me. Alina gasps, her lips parting as she responds eagerly, deepening the kiss. It’s a good thing the building’s fire escape has dim lighting because the reckless display of affection could get us in a lot of trouble. But since we’ve been doing this for about a month now, I’m aware of the risk and willing to chance it for a taste of her.
Our tongues tangle, and I groan as Alina’s hands skate across my chest and around my nearly healed ribs to slip her fingers into my back pockets. She pulls me closer, seeming to relish the way my rock-hard cock digs into her abdomen.
I kiss her breathless, refusing to pull back until my lungs are begging for air. And when our lips separate, I peer down at her with unbridled affection.
How does our connection only grow stronger with time? I couldn’t imagine something as passionate and explosive as ours could sustain the way it has. Rather than dwindling after the initial sparks, the attraction has turned into a rather dangerous inferno.
“Take me back to your place tonight?” she murmurs, her blue eyes wide and wishful.
Her pleading expression wrenches my gut as I hesitate. I’ve never brought her back to my apartment before for more reasons than one—even though we’ve been dating for over a month now and it’s required a good amount of creativity to maintain our secret relationship and avoid doing so.
At the top of the list is the fact that I’ve been collecting information on her father and have it stored in my flat. While I always tuck it out of sight, just to be safe, I don’t want her to stumble upon anything by accident.
The second reason is that I’m confident it will be a rude wakeup call for Alina to see the disparity in the way we live. While I’m making considerably more money now than I was before her father gave me a position in his clan, I’m a far shot from landing a penthouse like her brother’s.
