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In fact, she made a few curious comments about what such an “older man” wanted to talk to an eighteen-year-old “girl” about when he visited earlier in the week. I mentioned something about Katya, and she seemed to accept it. His help wasn’t worth the mountain of questions my mom would ask that I couldn’t answer.
“No one. Anyone!” I said, laughing my comment off.
“Okay, well, I hate to say this, but I have to go get ready for work. They love to schedule me on weekends.”My mom smiled, though her eyes already glistening.
My mom had worked at the same restaurant nearly all of my life, but then suddenly, within the last year, she quit and found a job working as a clerk in a hotel. The decision seemed to come out of nowhere, and when I asked her about it, she waved me off.
“It’s okay, Mom. The school is close enough for us to see each other whenever we want. It’s not like you live in Iowa,” I said, placating her guilt.
“That’s true, I suppose.” She gave me a tight hug and wiped away rapidly falling tears. “You be safe here, Emmy.”
“I will.”
She gripped my shoulders. “Don’t do anything crazy, take care of yourself, don’t go out alone at night, don’t—”
I shook my head and laughed. “Mom! Oh my god! I’ll be fine. Hannah goes to school here, so does Nikolai. All I have to do is mention that I know him and I’m sure nobody would dare touch me.”
Not to mention having Ivan’s formidable presence at my side for the beginning of the school year. While Nikolai looked tough, Ivan tended to look openly hostile. I doubted most guys would even consider looking in my direction.
“Yes, thank god for Nikolai,” my mother said, her voice wreathed in gratitude. It was a familiar refrain in our house, whether Nikolai was helping my mother with some home improvement project or repairing her car or saving one of her daughters from being harassed—not that my mom ever knew about that.
“Yeah, so put your mind at ease. My roommate will be here soon, too, so I’ll have someone to pal around campus with. When I talked to Delaney this summer, she seemed really fun and cool.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you to unpack. Take care and call me later, okay?”
“Okay, Mom. Love you,” I said, hugging her one more time.
“Love you, Em,” she said and made her way out the open door.
I looked around feeling swamped with the amount of unpacking I had to do. Though I was a bit overwhelmed, I was a little grateful for the time it gave me to think. About Ivan. As usual.
After Ivan kissed me senseless, then bolted away as if I had grown horns and a tail, I had to figure out how to deal with him. I’d had so much on my mind the last couple days getting ready to come here, I’d pushed him, and my worries about him, to the back of my mind—it brought me too much confusion, too much embarrassment, and too much aggravation.
After he left that night, I ranted to Hannah for an hour straight. I’d felt confused and defeated, but Hannah gave me some hope as we analyzed every move he’d made, reading into every look, every touch, every action. She explained about how erratically Nikolai had behaved with her at first, making it hard to read his signals. I would have been mortified at how much I micro-analyzed every aspect of my encounter with Ivan if it had been anyone else but Hannah.
My phone chimed and my heart skipped a beat. I had assigned Ivan a specific ringtone and that was the sound that my phone had just made. I grabbed my phone with embarrassing haste.
Ivan: I’m outside. Your mom gone?
I stared at the phone in shock and, it had to be acknowledged, exhilaration. Why was he here? I took a deep breath to calm myself and replied.
Emmy: Yes.
I guess I didn’t have the luxury of avoiding the situation any longer. Did I pretend we didn’t kiss? Should I be angry? If I was angry—which I definitely had been—did I have the right to be? I mean, this was a sham and putting on a show for Orlov was the point, so how can I be mad when he was doing what he was supposed to do?
Jesus, I probably looked terrible! I took a glance at the mirror permanently attached to the wall and yelped in horror. I was all flushed and sweaty. I quickly blotted my face with the first thing I grabbed out of my suitcase—a t-shirt—and tried to fix my hair. It was pretty hopeless, so I threw the t-shirt on my dresser and got back to unpacking.
I had just dumped my bedding on the narrow twin bed when I heard a soft knock and found Ivan standing in my doorway. As usual, he took my breath away. My insides practically liquified as I stared at the hard perfection of his face, his lean body, roped with muscles. Tattoos ran up and down his exposed arms. Was my tongue hanging out?
“Hey,” I said awkwardly.
“Hey,” Ivan said, stepping into the room and closing the door. His gaze scanned me from head to toe as he rumbled, “You shouldn’t just keep the door open like that.”
“Oh, right,” I said, though I wasn’t particularly worried about a stalker getting to me on moving day. “Why did you come by?” The question that was burning me alive.
“A couple reasons. Drago suggested stopping by so people would see us together. I also wanted to show you a picture of Orlov. We managed to dig one up.”
“Oh, let me see,” I said, eager to see if I recognized him.
