I jumped out of bed and rushed into the ensuite bathroom, turning the shower to hot. The coconut oil stained the bedsheets, and I was grimy, oily, with makeup still running down my cheeks. Because after the video was filmed last night and Alex cut the zip ties, I sighed and told him he was sleeping on the couch. And then I bolted into the bedroom and shut the door, almost barricading myself in.
I fell into bed and covered my head with a pillow and the pillow with the duvet.
Because all I wanted was to disappear. I wanted to wash my brain out, forget what I’d just done, forget what I’d said, forget the way Alex looked at me.
The way he held me.
The scorching water rained on the top of my head, but it wasn’t hot enough to burn through the pain and fear. The humiliation. And I had said so much last night; divulged intimate details that I promised myself I would forget and bury deep inside my brain.
But Alex stayed.
He held my gaze and my shaking body, letting me escape into him and into the fantasy that life could be different.
My hair dripping wet, I pulled on another summer dress, this one with tiny red flowers, and realized that…there wasn’t a timeline. No one was rushing me, expecting me,waitingfor me with impatience.
It was never peaceful or calm for me in the past.
My father had a strict morning routine, and he would pick me up every day, sometimes before dawn, to take me to the gym. Controlling wasn't even the word.
But I was free now.
And I would never go back.
I stepped out of the bedroom to be greeted by the sight of Alex sitting at the kitchen island with his phone and a coffee cup in front of him and the TV playing the weather channel behind his shoulder.
My insides burst just at the sight of him. I was hoping he’d stay—for a few more days at least.
Or maybe just forever.
“Good afternoon,” he called out as soon as I appeared in front of him, and I latched onto the way he looked at me. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, what was the logical conclusion about me? That I was somepoor little rich girlgetting off on giving her father the finger. A rebellious brat?
Was he going to judge me for what I’d done? I’d willingly helped him. Why did I even care what he thought? Once he got what he wanted, he’d let me go, and this would be all over.
But his gaze held none of that. Instead, his eyes lit up and he smiled. It was that boyish smile I’d seen exactly one time when he dropped me off at this secluded beach house, post our dysfunctional shopping trip.
“Afternoon? What time is it? Also, hi.”
Alex nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to my legs and then away, like we were in high school and he was afraid to get a look. “Yeah. It’s almost lunch time.”
“Why’d you let me sleep for so long?” I stalked over to the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup.
“Why not? You have somewhere to be?” Alex sounded a tad confused, and I giggled, opening the fridge for the milk.
“Yes. I have many things planned. Tanning, swimming, nap, early bedtime.”
“You shouldn’t drink coffee on an empty stomach,” he interrupted when the cup was at my lips. “Is food somewhere on your list there? I was going to make lunch.”
Multiple thoughts ran through my head all at once.I was starving. This was wrong—to have him cook for me again. He was incredibly handsome with his dark hair and expressive eyes, and…
“Mmm. Okay. I’ll take my lunch on the beach, though,” I said it and pursed my lips, knowing I was toeing the line with this man. Would he do it? His eyes went wide and he crossed his arms, leaning back on the chair. But that smile.
“Wow, Malyshka. First, you make Maksim your bitch and now you’ve set your sights on your new target?”
I laughed lightly, eyeing the way his white T-shirt stretched over his biceps. “What language do you speak?” I’d thought about the word a few times, trying to piece together any information about him.
His mysterious smile was frying my brain, and my heart fluttered right out of me when he stood from the chair, taking long strides toward me. I craned my neck to look up at him, hoping my mouth wasn’t open in awe.
“Go to the beach,” he instructed, towering over me. “Swim. Nap.” His voice dropped lower, and my fingertips went numb. God, he was so broad. “Tan your little smart ass. I’ll make lunch. No more questions for today.”
