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“So, I notice you speak Russian a lot better than Katya,” she said after a good ten minutes of silence. Was that what she’d been thinking about? I just fucked her with my hand, and she was thinking about Russian? “Is that because you go to Russia so much?”
I paused to reflect on what she’d asked, her innocent question taking me to some places I’d rather not go. I could lie and say it was because I was in Russia so often, but that wasn’t the whole truth, and, for some reason, I didn’t want to lie to her.
“Partly.” I paused, trying to unlock my throat. “My mother spoke to us in Russian. Katya was younger than me when our mother, uh, died so she forgot a lot of it.”
Even though I’d only spoken two sentences, every word brought up painful memories of my sweet, beautiful mother singing Russian pop songs to us when we were kids, her soft crooning voice balm for two children surrounded by an otherwise violent, chaotic life.
Emmy gave me a look, her blue-gold eyes brimming with compassion and concern. I hated it. But I kind of loved it, too. “I’m so sorry about your mom. How old were you when she…died?”
We were both dodging that word. Murdered. She was murdered by Yuri Ivanov. Even though I knew that was what happened to her—knew she didn’t simply leave us, it was still agonizing to think about.
“Ten.”
“So young,” Emmy said softly. “I’m really so sorry.”
I grunted, having no desire to extend this conversation by contributing to it. I should have just dodged it and lied to her in the first place. The fact that I voluntarily brought up my mother was setting off warning bells in my head. I rarely spoke of her, even to Katya.
I didn’t like the effect being around Emmy was having on me. Not at all.
“What’s the deal with Delaney’s boyfriend?” I asked, desperate enough to start a conversation about her fucking roommate in order to steer it away from me.
Emmy shot me a thoughtful look then shook her head. “I have no idea. She has a lot of self-doubts that bleed into the relationship, so tonight only made that worse.”
“She should dump his ass.”
She shrugged. “She might. I don’t know. Delaney can be a little too forgiving and maybe a little fickle, so who knows? Now that she met Will, Drew is probably toast simply because he can’t speak Russian,” she said with a little chuckle. “But seriously, I imagine if Drew came around and apologized, she’d forgive him.”
I snorted and shook my head at Delaney's stupidity. This guy was showing her who he was, but she didn’t want to see it.
“As you know, Will’s not exactly a safe bet either.”
“He probably looks better than Drew right now.”
“Then why would she consider taking him back?”
“I don’t know. Drew is usually a good guy and is really into Delaney, so it’s possible that something really did come up. I understand why she wants to give him the benefit of the doubt. People tolerate a lot of bullshit in relationships, you know? I’ve definitely known girls who put up with stuff like that and worse. People do crazy things when they like someone—they defend a lot of behavior they shouldn’t tolerate. I saw it in high school all the time,” Emmy said.
“Would you do that? Let some guy treat you like that and keep him around?” I asked, wondering if I was, on some level, asking for myself.
She blew out a sigh. “I’d like to say no, but I’ve never been in a serious relationship. It would be easy to say no way I would put up with that bullshit, but if I fell in love with someone, I’m not sure what I would put up with.”
Why the fuck had I asked her this question? Her comments seemed directed at me, even though we weren’t really in a relationship. Although, her opinion on that might have changed after having my hands down her pants.
However, if we weren’t talking about me, the thought of her giving some other dickhead allowances to be an asshole didn’t sit well with me either.
It was a frequently repeating pattern with her. I didn’t want to be the man in her life, didn’t want to be responsible for providing compassion, affection, protection...love. But I sure as fuck didn’t want any other guy to do it either.
I tightened my arm around her waist. “You’re too nice, Emmy.”
She snorted. “Um, I think we’ve made that abundantly clear considering I spent all summer just dopily receiving gifts from my stalker. I’m surprised I didn’t send him a thank-you note in return.”
I chuckled at the self-deprecating way she regarded her naivety, but slid my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. The reminder of her innocent recklessness made my chest tighten and put all of the protective instincts I’d been trying to suppress again on high alert.
Even though I had just mentally rejected taking the job of her protector, I was unable to resist sliding into that role. She needed someone to protect her because her innate ability to make good, safe decisions was terrible.
“Anyway, as I said, with the way Delaney was carrying on with Will tonight, Drew might be history anyway.”
“I hope she doesn’t pin any hopes on Will for a relationship. The way he’s plowing through strip—uh, women right now, I would be surprised if she ever saw him again after tonight.”
